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baoshan-sanren · 4 years ago

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Bonus - Songxiao

part of the wwx Emperor AU set post Chapter 35 (morning of Day 6) - technically not a chapter since this fic is unlikely to have any other explicit elements, and my current plan is to keep the rating to teen once posted to AO3

that said, this is smut (if my clumsy effort can be called smut)

It is discomforting, to say the least, waking in his old bedchamber.

Xiao XingChen’s memory of the years spent in the Immortal Mountain lacks all those particulars which he now finds essential. He can recall the color of the drapes, the shine of sunlight glinting off the gold trim, the red and gold pattern of the rugs. But he does not know the distance from the bed to the window, or from the window to the washbasin. He does not know where exactly the tables and the chests are placed, or how tall they are, or when he may stumble into one by mistake.

It is not new to him, being blind in an unfamiliar place. But being blind in a familiar one, a place that still provides the same echoes of footsteps on the marble floors, the same scents, the same texture of silk sheets, it is discomforting in a way he cannot describe. His inability to see is never so restrictive than in the Immortal Mountain City, a home he had only ever known by sight.

It is no trifling, frivolous life, the one he leads side by side with Song Lan. More often than not, it is exhausting, fraught with danger and uncertainty, always lacking those comforts which he had grown accustomed to in his childhood. But at this moment, he would trade all the silks in the Iron Palm Palace for a night under the stars, wrapped in Song Lan’s cloak.

Wei Ying is right. Xiao XingChen would have never returned to the Immortal Mountain just for the Emperor’s birthday. Had the trail they were following simply passed through YiLing and continued on, Xiao XingChen and Song Lan would have done the same, neither one mentioning the mountain rearing in the distance.

The price he had paid to protect the throne was given willingly, and out there in the world, with Song Lan by his side, he often forgets that life had once been different. He does not miss the blue of the mountain creek, when he can smell its earthy scent and hear the murmur of its ripples. He does not miss the green of the grass, when he can feel each blade under the palm of his hand. Out there, he is whole, even with parts of him missing.

Here, in the Immortal Mountain, he can never be whole again.

He hears the silky slide of Song Lan’s hair on the pillow before he feels him move. Fingers brush against his cheek, lightly, a soft tickle that always makes him smile. It is hard to smile this morning. It is always hard to smile when his childhood is clogged in his throat, in his nose, when he can feel the texture of it underneath his spine.

Song Lan knows this without having to be told. He knows the guilt XingChen carries for having abandoned his nephew to a life that he, himself, despises. Song Lan knows that renaming the Emperor’s palace does not erase the blood that had smeared its stone arches or marble floors. He knows that the voices echoing in the banquet hall will always be screams to XingChen’s ears.

There are very few people left who remember YanLing DaoRen; none who had seen his madness first hand and still live to tell the tale. There is only XingChen. And the scars those years had left on his soul are still bleeding and raw, despite having decades to heal.

He can hear Song Lan shift, feels a hot breath caress his neck before lips press to the sensitive spot under his jaw. He shudders, exhaling deeply. Even after all the years they have been together, Song Lan’s mouth on his skin never fails to thrill him, each touch as exquisite as the very first one had been. A hand trails over his hip, every callus as familiar as his own.

He smiles now. It is impossible not to smile. Song Lan’s nose is brushing his jaw, his cheek, feather-light touch of eyelashes tickling his temple.

“I can hear you thinking,” Song Lan whispers in his hair, the hand curving over XingChen’s inner thigh, strong and possessive, the warmth of the grip spreading though XingChen’s skin, coiling in the pit of his stomach.

His breath stutters, the sound loud and new in-between the familiar curtains, reverberating against the familiar walls. They have always shared a bedchamber, those rare times XingChen would allow them to stay in the Immortal Mountain long enough to spend the night. But rarely ever had they done anything other than sleep. It feels awkward here; the shadow of the First Prince he had once been always there, hovering over his shoulder, pressing against his temples, demanding to be acknowledged.

Song Lan’s lips trail over his ear, tongue tracing the curve, teeth scraping against the delicate shell. His hand, well-versed in the layers of XingChen’s sleep robes, does not fumble when searching for flesh. Throat seized with tremors, XingChen wants to speak, but neither his mind nor his mouth has settled on the words he wants to say. A part of him does not want to give in to pleasure here. This palace, these walls, they will never be free of malice. There is an illogical fear that the darkness steeped into its very foundations will somehow seep into the joy he shares with Song Lan, taint it, twist it to its own ends.

Another part of him is already sliding his thighs open, muscles quivering with anticipation, aching to replace the unpleasant memories with something sweet and pure.

When a hand wraps around him firmly, his hips shamelessly arch into the grip. He turns his head to drown a series of whimpers against Song Lan’s mouth. There is always a lazy, languorous quality to Song Lan’s kisses, no matter how large their need, how frantic their bodies. Song Lan kisses as if he has centuries at his disposal, an eternity of pleasure to offer. XingChen has learned to yield to his tongue, to the slow, intoxicating rhythm, regardless of his desperation.

This time, Song Lan pulls away slightly, his breath fever-hot against XingChen’s lips.

“Is this good?” he asks softly, as if XingChen’s need is not obvious, hot and throbbing in his hand, already grown tight and slick to the point of pain.

The part of XingChen that hesitates to give the walls around them any sign of their bliss, to keep their joy forever separate from this place saturated with blood and pain, has shrank small and insignificant, a mere whisper in the back of his mind.

But Song Lan can hear it still. There are no secrets XingChen can keep from the other half of his soul. No grief that Song Lan has not drank from his skin, no tears he has not tasted.

“Yes,” he stutters, hand wrapping around a tense shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle, “It is-- perfect. Do not stop.”

Song Lan smiles against his skin, and pushes the covers aside. The air in the bedchamber is cool, biting, a sharp contrast to XingChen’s overheated skin. His sleep robes are disheveled, gaping open, starkly revealing the most vulnerable parts of him. XingChen cannot see himself, and he has never been ashamed of his own body, aroused and pliant under Song Lan’s hands. But here and now, he feels fragile and exposed, the way he never does when they make love under the stars.

He cannot see himself, but he hears Song Lan’s breath falter at the sight.

“XingChen,” he says, voice hushed and heavy, fingers lightly catching on the edge of the robe, pulling it open further.

Cold air washes over XingChen’s shoulder, his chest and stomach, a series of goosebumps traveling across his skin. It is always overwhelming, the tinge of awe in Song Lan’s voice, the reverence of his touch. XingChen had spent his childhood being wrapped in the most expensive silks, handled with gentle touches, being spoken to with the utmost respect. But he has never felt so throughly worshiped than he does under Song Lan’s hands, under his devoted gaze.

Song Lan’s tongue is searing on his chest, the teeth catching on delicate flesh, gentle but ruthless in their pursuit. XingChen’s body jerks with every scrape, the sensation unbearable, always too much and never enough. Each time, his fingers will tangle painfully in the silky texture of Song Lan’s hair, both to push him away, and to press him harder to his chest. Each time, he can do neither, equally helpless under the insistent graze of the teeth, the lazy soothing of the tongue. It is exquisite torture, this, and XingChen never knows how long he will have to bear it.

A single word would be enough to stop it, yet XingChen has never spoken it out loud. He has never been able to see any marks that Song Lan leaves on his skin. He had given up his sight long before Song Lan would overcome his stubborn veneration, before he would admit his love for the man he had sworn to serve and protect. But he cherishes each mark he can feel, even when they ache.

The bedchamber is no longer silent now, XingChen desperately gasping for breath, the restless flutter of need pulsing in his ears and throat, underneath his breastbone, in the pit of his stomach. Sometimes, this is all it takes; Song Lan’s mouth on his chest, fingers firmly wrapped around his length, the rhythm steady and relentless. XingChen has rarely asked for more; under Song Lan’s mouth and hands he has always felt loved, adored, desperately needed. That alone has always been enough.

Still, when Song Lan’s mouth slides down his stomach, his muscles tense in anticipation. He smooths the layers of hair he has tangled, his fingers shaky and weak.

“It will not take much,” he says ruefully, his voice hoarse.

Song Lan huffs a laugh against his hip bone, the vibration soft and delighted.

The first swipe of his tongue is almost too much. XingChen hears himself cry out, a sound too loud and frenzied for the somber chambers of the First Prince. But he is no longer aware of the space around him, or the walls that had so tormented him in the past. Another swipe follows the first, then another, and another, each excruciatingly hot, each providing lightest possible pressure, both cruelly unsatisfying and utterly overwhelming. The tongue dips lower, slick and insistent, and XingChen frantically shifts his trembling thighs, far beyond hesitation or shame. He does not know what Song Lan wants, but all of XingCheng is there for the taking. It always strikes him as the verge of madness, this shameless state where he is no longer himself. Or perhaps, it is the only place where he may be the purest version of himself, with no fears, and no burdens; a selfish, unblemished state, where he only wants to be loved.

The voice that comes from that place is raw, all the veneer stripped away to reveal the need beneath, “Please-- I want-- please.”

Song Lan does not ask what he wants; XingChen is hardly capable of speech. His hands are clenched in the silk sheets so tightly that his fingers are cramping. Each one of his muscles is taut to the point of pain. He is there, at the very edge, but the edge is hairsbreadth one moment, and miles wide the next. This can last for hours too sometimes, an endless lingering at the verge of an abyss, the pleasure drawn out past the point of endurance, until XingChen is sobbing and writhing, begging for release.

This time, Song Lan takes him all at once, mouth slick and hot. He is no longer teasing, but firm and determined. XingChen jerks his hips twice, feeling the narrow space of Song Lan’s throat trying to accommodate him, the tight pressure of his lips at the base, and shakes apart without warning.

It always feels like falling. A few moments of perfect weightlessness, perfect emptiness, pleasure and joy so tightly entwined that they seem one bright whole, blinding and blissful. Long before he can think, long before his shudders subside, Song Lan pulls him close into the safety of his arms. There is a place XingChen intimately knows, a soft dip of muscle between Song Lan’s shoulder and collar bone, where his head nestles perfectly each time.

Once, long ago, home had been a mountain, a city, a palace. Now, home is a single stretch of warm skin under his cheek, a hand on his shoulder blade, soft brush of lips against his forehead.

“Good?” Song Lan asks, and XingChen smiles, his hand sliding underneath Song Lan’s robes.

“Not quite yet,” he says archly, and Song Lan huffs a laugh into his hair.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #songxiao #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #i can't believe i have to use the tag #lemon #in the year of our lord 2020 #but there we are #nish writes smut badly #as an apology for not having done any other writing #imma toss this at you guys and run away #ily chickens

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incorrigible-rapscallion · 5 years ago

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A SERIAL KILLER’S GUIDE TO MEN AND MANSLAUGHTER -- Script (pgs. 24-30)

[pgs 1-2; 3-7; 7-14; 14-23]

INT. HARRIET'S ENTRYWAY - LATE NIGHT

David, Achilles, and Harriet crowd together in the entryway, Harriet shucks off her opera coat with restless energy.

AUNT HARRIET That was certainly an evening. I haven't seen anyone so explosive and irate about a topic in quite some time. I admire that man's passion, but his tactics were more on par with schoolyard guerrilla warfare.

DAVID I think I'm going to turn in for the night, if you don't mind.

AUNT HARRIET Of course, bambino. Let me know if there is anything else you need.

David nods then shuffles up the stairs with Achilles. Harriet huffs and shakes her head with a small smile.

INT. GUEST BEDROOM - SAME TIME

The guest bedroom is styled like a Victorian farmhouse.

David collapses on the bed, fully clothed. Achilles whines, but David is already out cold.

MONTAGE: DREAMSCAPE #1

Images of David's interactions from the day's events replay on fast-forward in David's sleep. Each encounter is coupled with the observations that he jotted down in his notebook.

Thomas is the star of this dreamscape, as the meeting at the butchery begins at the same rapid pace as the other interactions, but slows down once it settles on the eye contact he made at the town hall.

A sequence of implausible scenarios involving Thomas in the act of killing someone are added to David's memory:

-Thomas stabbing Mr. Lancaster like a grotesque greeting at the butchery -Thomas slitting Lily's throat instead as he walks past her -Thomas immediately rushing David into a strangle-hold, both at the butchery and as they crossed paths at the town hall

All of the killings are concluded by a flirtatious wink.

END OF MONTAGE

INT. GUEST BEDROOM - LATE AFTERNOON

David wakes sharply in an uncomfortable position, still dressed in his clothes from yesterday.

Light streams in David's eyes from the bedroom window. Harriet is in the room, opening the curtains.

AUNT HARRIET I was about to get the smelling salts if you didn't wake up. Normally, I wouldn't mind a reasonable bout of lethargy, but you have dinner with a fine and distinguished gentleman in the next thirty minutes.

David tosses and turns until Achilles comes to his bedside. David grunts in response and Harriet leaves the room.

INT. HARRIET'S ENTRYWAY - LATE AFTERNOON

David stands impassively as Harriet gives him a "once over."

AUNT HARRIET You and I both know that this is the change you came here for.

DAVID I didn't want to talk about that last night and I definitely don't want to talk about that now.

AUNT HARRIET Then talk about it with your date.

INT. RESTAURANT ENTRANCE - EARLY EVENING

David and Achilles stand in front of a RESTAURANT HOST. The place is whimsically styled after an Italian chateau.

HOST You're here for the reservation under "Harriet Truelove," yes? We were expecting you. The other member of your party is already seated.

David peruses the RESTAURANT PATRONS until he sees Thomas.

Once again, the ambient noises and other people fade away as David's breathing escalates. Achilles then calms him down.

Thomas locks eyes with David and smiles in recognition.

HOST If you'll follow me, sir?

DAVID I'd rather seat myself, if you don't mind.

INT. RESTAURANT - TABLE FOR TWO - EVENING

Thomas stands as David and Achilles approach the cozy table setting.

Achilles sniffs at Thomas' outreached hand and allows to be petted. Immediately, Achilles becomes docile and rolls over on the restaurant floor for a belly rub.

David watches, horrified, and stops breathing. This prompts Achilles to leap back up in order to lick at David's hand.

Once satisfied, Achilles lays down at David's feet. David gapes at this behavior and sits down at the table.

Thomas hovers with a cheerful expression before sitting too.

THOMAS I must admit, I had hoped you would be the mysterious stranger that Ms. Truelove was so adamant about my meeting. I was honest when you came in my shop--I am a dyed-in-the-wool fan of your work.

DAVID I suppose you feel that my characters are nuanced and my killers all have realistic motivations.

THOMAS Yes, but I feel that that is only skimming the surface when appreciating your writing techniques.

DAVID I'm flattered that you've spent so much time analyzing...me.

THOMAS Interesting, because you don't sound as though you're flattered.

DAVID I have a difficult time socializing and making small talk.

THOMAS I'm well aware of your background with your advocacy projects for children and students with special needs. I know that you yourself experienced a discriminatory education growing up.

DAVID "Discriminatory" is one way of putting it. Some would say "illegal" by today's standards.

A WAITER comes to the table to deliver a wine sampler tray and a shared appetizer plate.

Thomas gestures for David to eat first, but David declines.

DAVID I'm fine with water for now.

THOMAS Fair enough. But the tenderloin will pair nicely with the red, if you change your mind.

DAVID I take it the tenderloin comes from your own butchery?

THOMAS You caught me. I was hoping to impress you by picking a restaurant that exclusively uses my choice cuts. I also hope you don't mind that I ordered ahead for us.

DAVID I doubt that I have any choice in the matter anyway.

THOMAS Please understand, that wasn't my intention. I simply wanted to demonstrate that I am just as proficient in my own area of expertise as you are.

David takes some food from the appetizer, but doesn't eat it. Thomas picks at his own selection, eating delicately.

They remain in silence until the Waiter comes back to remove their dishes and set down their entree plates.

THOMAS I apologize if I said something to upset you in any way. I feel a little out of my element tonight.

DAVID You mean that you are able to charm everyone that you take out on a date?

THOMAS I confess that I actually don't date very often. I simply meant that dinners and lively discussions are usually my forte. It's why I wanted to be a butcher in the first place--I wanted to understand the fine details that make up a memorable meal.

DAVID That's a...tasteful answer.

THOMAS And you said you couldn't make small talk!

DAVID I really can't. The opportunity presented itself, so....

They lapse into silence again. David still keeps a stoic expression, but Thomas grins anytime they lock eyes.

Both dinner and dessert pass by. The Waiter delivers the check to Thomas for him to look over.

THOMAS It looks all good to go. My compliments to the chef.

The Waiter nods and leaves with check, without payment.

David pauses with his credit card and wallet out.

DAVID I assumed I would be paying for my half...?

THOMAS Of course not. This meal was on the house. All of mine are, considering...

DAVID I can at least leave the tip. It was excellent service.

THOMAS It always is.

David trades out his card for cash, places it on the table, then stands ungracefully with Achilles. Thomas follows suit.

THOMAS Even though this was a less-than-ideal date, I want you to know that I truly enjoyed your company. Perhaps I could convince you to take another chance?

DAVID Perhaps. In the meantime, I have some business to take care of. But I'll be sure to let know.

THOMAS That's all I could hope for. I'll be waiting.

David nods stiffly and exits with Achilles at his heels.

DAVID (mumbling) Please don't.

EXT./INT. DAVID'S CAR - NIGHT - TRAVELING

David drives throughout the town of Pleasant Grove at night. Achilles sits in the passenger seat.

David white-knuckles the steering wheel and gear shift as neon store signs and street lamps pass over his troubled face.

MONTAGE: DREAMSCAPE #2

David, once again, replays images of day's events--this time featuring his blind date dinner.

Key images that David focuses on are:

-Thomas seated at their table, waiting for David to arrive -Achilles rolling on the floor with oddly docile behavior -Thomas with a cheerful expression -Thomas with a concerned expression -Thomas with a vacant expression -Thomas cutting into the meal's tenderloin with a steak knife

This segues into another sequence of implausible scenarios involving Thomas killing someone during their dinner:

-Thomas breaking Achilles' neck while the dog waits for a belly rub -Thomas grabbing the Waiter's pen and stabbing it in their neck -Thomas lunging across the table to, once again, strangle David

Like before, all of the killings are concluded with a flirtatious wink.

END OF MONTAGE

David has stopped breathing and Achilles licks at his hand on the gear shift. David then pets Achilles' head, almost aggressively, as he calms down.

David notices that the lights are on inside the PLEASANT GROVE POLICE STATION as he approaches it at an intersection.

David abruptly pulls into the parking lot.

DAVID (to Achilles) Let's do the fandango, buddy.

He exits the car with Achilles and single-mindedness.

#a serial killer's guide to men and manslaughter #netflix call me #hannigram #hannibal s4 #nbc hannibal #hannibal #script #screenplay #screenwriting #original work

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forwhycas · 6 years ago

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Love Thy Neighbor (part 5)

Was just reading through part 4, and wow the spelling mistakes!! I read through this several times so it shouldn’t be as bad, so this chapter is super cute with a little under the table action;) Enjoy ladies and gents!!!!

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It was summer time in England, you had been spending basically all of your free time with the band. Sleep was not even a thing anymore, the boys had you up till dawn then you would stagger into work and come home and do it all over again. Concerts, events, dinners, move premiers, tv interviews. You were inner circle which meant you went to almost everything you could.

“Darling what are you doing the week of your birthday? And don’t lie saying you’re working because I saw your calendar and it says vacation.”

You were out to eat with Freddie and the rest of the boys.

“I was just gonna hang out have a quiet week……why are you looking at me like that?”

He was looking at you with a smirk and bright squinting eyes.

“You like the beach right? I was thinking Sao Paulo?”

“Freddie I don’t know about that.”

Freddie still had that look of “I know something and you don’t” on his face.

“Lacey, were going to be there for a week and we already added you to the flight and everything……..”

John whispered to you.

“You did not.”

“Darling I’m just trying to help you out, your terribly pale and you need some sun, also we all know you love the beach you’ve told us countless times, so what better place to ring in 24! Plus I’m bringing Marry, you two get along well.”

“Freddie I can’t………”

“Yes you can actually, and you will. I will force your tight ass on that plane, or should I get Rog to do that?”

Roger chuckled.

“No please don’t, If I agree, and that’s IF, I want to pay for my own flight and my own room.”

“Oh, darling, everything is already booked, no need to take separate flights, who’s gonna keep dear old Roger entertained on that flight? Certainly not me. It has to be you.”

You chugged your whole beer at this point stressing on how you were going to pay Freddie back for this. The thought of you lounging on the beach sounded so nice. Work had been crazy, your boss was working you extra hard ever since your co worker quit. Doing double the work and trying to keep up with the boys was exhausting. Going to shows, photographing them before and after shows, just being with them was always so tiring since they were always so energetic.

“I see wheels turning in her curly haired head, I think we got her.”

Freddie said excitedly.

“Ok, I’ll go, but only for the view, and because I can’t leave poor Marry alone with you guys for a whole week. No telling the paps where were going, or making a big deal of my birthday, it’s just 24, nothing to fuss about.”

Freddie had a bad habit when he was drunk to call the press and say we were all going to be someplace, all those lights were enough to blind anyone. It made you uncomfortable to be the one people are taking pictures of, you preferred to be behind the lens.

It was the night before you were to leave, sleep did not come easy, you got maybe 2 hours before you heard the pounding of Rogers fists on your door, you jumped up from bed in just a t shirt and un locked the door for him.

“Good morning to you too, excited are we?”

You poured yourself a drink, something you often did now to tolerate Roger’s cockiness. You gulped it down fast. Roger was on your couch looking through your sketch book, invading your privacy per usual.

“I swear English people have no sense of privacy, please do just look through my stuff, have a drink, smoke my whole carton of cigs……”

Roger laughed, which put a slight smile on your face. He came over and kissed you lightly on the lips.

“Calm down…..”

He kissed you a few more times, before you pulled away.

“I don’t like to fly, I’m nervous.”

“Stick with me kid, you’ll be fine.”

“Roger I’m like three years younger than you, please stop with the kid jokes.”

You walked down the hallway to get dressed, for once Roger didn’t follow.

“Ok, I’m ready.”

Roger grabbed your bags, and out the door you went. He was holding your hand all the way to the airport and when you got onto the plane, you downed another drink. Roger sat next to you, immediately intertwining your hand with his and he brought it up to his mouth and kissed your hand. Such a simple act but so needed. You heard a camera click and knew it was Brian, you looked at him and he just winked at you, with a wide smile on his face.

“You’ll do fine love, it’s a long flight, but you’ll sleep through most of it

You yawned as Deaky told you how long you’d be stuck on this plane with 4 guys plus their whole team. You should just sleep, your gonna need it, Freddie will have you at full party mode the whole time. That’s 7 days of full force Freddie in your face.

Your eyes fluttered open and noticed you were covered in a blanket, you moved it off you and straightened up, hearing your back crack.

“How much longer?”

You looked across from you at John, he looked at his watch.

“About 8 hours?”

You smiled in relief knowing that you were almost half way there and got up to get a drink, you decided to sit next to John for the rest of the flight. You were telling him about your first beach trip that you remembered as a child.

“I was about 6 I think and my brother spent the whole day playing catch with my dad, my mom had just gotten me my first camera so I was everywhere taking pictures of everything, mom was reading the whole day under the umbrella.”

John was smiling at you.

“How did the pictures come out?”

“Oh they were trash, I had no sense of angel or lighting back then, the only picture that came out decent was one my mom took, it was of me building a sand castle. I still have that one.”

“I’m sure they weren’t trash! I’m sure they were all lovely.”

“John they were trash.”

“How come you don’t go to the beach more often? If you love it so much.”

John was facing you and reading your face.

“Um, my mom got sick shortly after and I just never wanted to go without her, she always helped me find the best sea shells, and it never really feels right to go without her ya know?”

John frowned, and patted your leg.

“Were gonna find the best sea shells ever, don’t you worry love.”

You let a few tears fall down your face but you smiled when he said that.

“Yea we are! Sorry I’m never really like this when I talk about her.”

Johns hand reached out and wiped the tears away.

“Hey don’t apologize she must have been an amazing woman!”

You took a deep breath and nodded.

“Darling are you ok?”

Freddie asked, he had just sat down across from you.

“My dear what’s going on?”

Brian knew about your mom and how she passed. You had told him one day when you were with him developing some pictures. He must have overheard the conversation you had been having with John, he came up next to you.

“Freddie, she’s fine she just woke up from a nap that’s all.”

Brian was next to you with his hand on your shoulder. You nodded and wanted to cry more. Turning another year older without her here was just never easy.

“What’s going on?”

You turned your head to see Roger.

“Love are you ok?”

His hand cupped your face, you gave him a smile even though you were fighting back tears. Too many emotions. This is so unlike you, normally you just push it aside but you can only do that for so many years. He kissed you lightly on the lips, he’s never done that before in front of the boys, mostly just small gestures of pda.

“Yea I’m fine, it’s just, this plane ride is dragging on, I really need to get on some solid land, ya know?”

You chuckled but you felt a few tears fell, Roger wiped them away. But he didn’t push you any further. You pushed past everyone and found an empty seat and just closed your eyes and took a few breaths and decided to draw. You heard someone sit next to you. It was Brian.

“I heard you and Deaky, I’m sure it’s rough this time of year, but I’m here and now that John knows he’ll be there to talk as well, don’t be sad though, you’re going to have a great time this week! We have a few surprises for you, so keep that chin up love!”

Brian was so cheery you couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks Bri, I appreciate it. A lot. I think I’m just gonna try to get some more sleep.”

He nodded at you and grabbed a book.

You were awoken when you heard the wheels screech, you smiled knowing you were going to get off this plane soon.

“Look at that, were on solid land!”

Roger interrupted and you smiled at him. You laughed at how excited he looked looking out the tiny window.

2 hours later you entered a villa, with the most beautiful view you have ever seen. Nothing but the ocean, extending for thousands of miles. You were smiling while leaning on the railing of the balcony. All you could do is smile, as you closed your eyes and listened to the waves and the birds squawk.

“Guys come here, you have to look at this!”

They all came out one by one, you told them to close their eyes and just listen.

“Thank you again for letting me tag along for this.”

“Lacey, you should travel with us more often, you’ll get to see views like this every day.”

John spoke.

“Maybe one day.”

“Dear, let me escort you inside the room with the best view of the sea, it’s also the biggest room, so you can fit all the ladies and gentleman you want in their!”

You blushed while Freddie had his hand on the small of your back and lead you to your room. He was not fucking around either, it was huge! A bed that could fit at least 10 people, with a canopy. A full living room set complete with a tv, the bathroom was all white marble, a huge bath tub a walk in shower, and the best part the French doors that led to the balcony.

“All you have to do is open the curtains and the sea is right there, best view, just for you darling.”

You were in shock that you were actually in Sao Paulo, being surrounded by such luxury was not something you were used to, everything in here must cost a fortune, you were so thankful to have friends like these.

“I, I don’t even know how to even begin to thank you guys, I’m super overwhelmed by all of this……”

You kissed Freddie on the cheek, and he returned the gesture but with a little slap on your ass.

“I’m starving, anyone else hungry?”

John spoke, looking at everyone.

“Yea I’m hungry as well now that you mention it!”

Everyone made their way to their rooms to get changed, per Freddie’s request, we all had to put our best ensemble together. You chose a long red strapless dress, very beachy. You sat down on one of the chairs on the balcony and waited for everyone.

“Wow, Lacey you never cease to amaze me”

Roger sat down next you on the long beach chair, his sun glasses low on his nose as he stared at you. You looked at him, long, tight black dress pants, sparkly shoes, and just a black vest on. You reached for the buttons on his vest and un buttoned them.

“You look fantastic as well.”

“I thought I liked you in black but red might be my new favorite color.”

You smiled and got up to lean against the balcony railing, the sun was setting and it was blinding. You need a picture of Roger and the sunset.

“Roger stay there I’ll be right back.”

You walked into your room and came back out with your polaroid. You grabbed the sun glasses off of Rogers face and put them on so you could see what angel you were getting. You pushed him up against the balcony railing.

“Lacey what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m about to take a fantastic picture, now just look natural…….no, Rog don’t posing just stand there and look at me….. please.”

He put his arms against the railing and smirked at you. His eyes looked next level, the orange and red burnt sky behind him really made his blue eyes pop. That was it, that’s the shot.

“Am I your muse?”

You chuckled at him and gave him his sunglasses back.

“I guess so”

“Alright Lacey give me the camera, it’s your turn.”

You shook your head as to say no, but Roger was persistent, he pushed you up against the railing and just stared at you, then his lips crashed with yours, so needy so hungry. You didn’t even realize he grabbed the camera out of your hands. You pouted when his lips left yours, he smiled and pecked them once more.

“Alright love, no posing, just stand there and look at me.”

He smirked at you, once again stealing your own words.

“Roger I really don’t like people taking photos of me, it’s not my thing.”

“Well love, you’re my muse now…...you’re so beautiful Lacey, please?”

You were blushing, so you stood their same pose as Roger did, expect you smiled the biggest smile you have in a while because Roger was doing the same to you. He took the picture and he immediately put it in his back pocket.

“I’m sorry are we interrupting something? Because we can totally hold off on dinner if you two wanna fuck real quick?”

“Honestly Freddie, fuck off”

Roger said harshly while still looking in your direction.

“No Freddie you’re not interrupting anything, let’s go eat.”

You winked at Roger and grabbed the camera from his hand while you were passing him, he grabbed your other hand and out the 5 of you went.

“Lacey, what are you in the mood for? Steak, salad, pasta, Rogers co…”

Freddie liked to stir up shit so you stopped him before he could.

“Well Freddie, I’m a vegetarian so no steak for me. I’m going with this grilled chicken, and as for Roger, I did not know he was on the menu.”

Rogers hand squeezed your thigh. Your breath hitched in your throat, you definitely needed to have a few drinks to get through this dinner. Rogers hand wanted under your dress, and you were not about to let that happen. You were already flustered by Roger kissing you earlier, and now the thought of his fingers pumping in and out of you was making you flush.

“Darling, are you ok, you look flustered, is dear Roger playing with you?”

Fucking Freddie.

“Freddie I have no idea what your talking about……stop looking at me like that.”

Freddie winked at you then smirked at Roger. Rogers left hand started to gather your dress so he could gain access. He leaned over to your ear.

“I’m gonna do this and you’re not going to make a fucking noise, got it.”

Holy fuck, right here at dinner with the boys around, Freddie is going to catch on if you don’t keep a straight face. But you nodded and unclutched your thighs, spreading them slightly for him, your pushed your chair closer to Roger so his movements wouldn’t be as noticeable.

“So Lacey, Brian tells me you play the piano? You have to play for us.”

You glared at Bri, you told him one night that you used to play when you were younger, but not so much anymore.

“I don’t play as often as I used to.”

Just then Rogers middle finger entered you and you let out a sigh, holy fuck it’s been a while since you’ve had him this close. Then his pointer finger, both of them curling up inside you, your left hand came down and grasped his thigh. Roger laughed as your hand kept gripping his thigh.

“I want you to play something for us tomorrow at rehearsals.”

“If I say yes will you let me finish eating my dinner in peace?”

Rogers thumb now circling your clit.

“I want a whole set of you performing Journey songs, warm up that voice of yours love, I wanna hear it.”

Roger was looking at you square in the face, you needed to distract him, you needed his fingers to stop, you knew that when you did cum it would be messy. You wanted this but not now, not so public.

“Oh no….I don’t sing, I’ll play the piano and Freddie can sing for me.”

You were starting to squirm when Roger added a third finger, how dare he try to have a normal conversation with you while his fingers are inside of you.

“Really, I’d love to hear that sweet American voice of yours sing.”

Rogers fingers slowly going in and out of you, wow you needed relief.

“I’m all good, really!”

Your hand went under the table and stopped Rogers hand, you were done. You needed him inside you not his hands.

**************************************************************************************************

Rog really likes to mess with this poor girl!!! Part 6 tomorrow possibly, if not tomorrow then Wednesday for sure! Please share and like this, I’ve put a lot of time into this:)

#fanfic #roger taylor #queen #smut

12 notes · View notes

elsaclack · 6 years ago

Text

HELLO the general consensus is that a masterpost would be Good so!! here i am!! masterposting!! this is split by fandom in reverse-chronological order (newest on top) but i will tell u i’m not even gonna TRY with the one-shot collections bc honestly i have. No Memory Whatsoever as to when i posted those in relation to the independent fics lmao. most are on ao3 only but i will include tumblr links where applicable!! and if you think of one i’ve written (or that you think i’ve written) that you don’t see on this list, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask about it!!

BROOKLYN NINE-NINE

kiss prompt #26

2. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

AO3

kiss prompt #25

7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

AO3

kiss prompt #24

7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

[PLATONIC]

AO3

kiss prompt #23

10. staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in

AO3

kiss prompt #22

12. a hoarse whisper "kiss me"

AO3

kiss prompt #21

18. kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

AO3

kiss prompt #20

19. kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing

AO3

kiss prompt #19

15. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss

AO3

kiss prompt #18

8. being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward

AO3

kiss prompt #17

11. when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

AO3

kiss prompt #16

16. when one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead

AO3

you’re a king, and i’m a lionheart

“What about...what about Jacob?” An overwhelming sense of rightness settles light as air over Roger’s shoulders as he turns the name over in his mind. Jacob. Prince Jacob. Prince Jacob of the House of Peralta, Duke of Southport. “Jacob,” he murmurs, and he could swear his son smiles. The sun breaks low on the horizon the morning of Prince Jacob’s birth - and far, far away, across a vast forest and a roiling sea beyond it, a lurking Duchess begins to plot.

"In which Jake is the prince notorious for running head-first into danger and Amy is the main guard in charge of keeping him alive."

AO3

and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

He can’t remember exactly how old he was when Halley’s Comet blazed through the sky, but he was old enough to at least understand that what he saw was, for most people, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. He remembers the blinding missile-like blur of pure light that streaked across the inky black sky, the feathery trails of starlight that followed along behind her as she tore through the galaxy, the way she flickered and winked as she disappeared beyond the horizon.

And he remembers his mother telling him, in a voice he recognized even then to be warbling with reverence and emotion, how lucky he is to be among those lucky few who will get to witness Halley’s blazing trail twice in one lifetime.

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #3

“sometimes in the dead of night when you think you can’t make it, you might find i left a light beside the bed for you, ‘cause i’ve been there, too”

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #2

“That drink you spilt all over me, lovers spit left on repeat, my mom and dad let me stay home, it feels so scary getting old”

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #1

“I’ve already packed my promises, they’re waiting by the door”

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #3

inside jokes

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #2

unmitigated joy

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #1

grandma’s kisses

AO3

now that the weight has lifted, love has surely shifted my way

“Y’know what? Just - just go ahead. Ruin it. I don’t care. It’s just a dumb ceremony anyways. I love Jake, and I know he loves me, and - and we don’t have to have some big fancy ceremony to prove it. I’m going to marry him,” she says slowly, firmly, “and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”

AO3

untitled prompt #25

"Okay so what about a fic based on pregnant amy santiago wearing a bathrobe?"

AO3

i’m on the edge of a broken heart

Amy Santiago is a vision of beauty.

“Hey,” he says, suddenly winded by the mere sight of her. He falls back to his heels, lets his hands fall down to his sides, and watches as she slowly paces toward him. “I was just…I thought I might…clean.”

Aside from reaching to toss her shirt and purse across the chaise to his right, she remains very still. “You never clean.” she finally says after a long stretch of silence.

There is no inquisitiveness to her tone. There is no confusion in her face. It’s a statement of fact, yes, but the complete lack of emotion in her entire demeanor is a clear and flashing neon sign pointing to the calm before the storm.

AO3

je vais t’attendre là

On the morning of April 28th, Jake Peralta wakes to the smell of pancakes burning on the griddle.

He can tell when he rolls just slightly on his side that the blankets have been pulled up and neatly tucked in over the other half of the mattress, but even that slight change in angle brings him in contact with a part of the mattress still warm from Amy’s sleeping body. His shirt is also still warm where it’s stretched across his shoulders - there’s even a spot on the back of his neck that is cooler than the rest, probably leftover from the kiss she pressed there before she rolled out of bed.

He smiles as he rubs his fingertips over the spot. How she managed to burn breakfast in what is likely just a matter of minutes is entirely beyond him.

AO3

that i need you because it’s so hard to be who i am

But then it’s 7:30 and the last of her belongings are finally unloaded and carefully placed in and on her new desk and she’s straightening up the last picture of the two of them from the night they got engaged right beside her brand new computer monitor while she talks about what they should order for dinner (she’s been dealing with a hankering for good Chinese food ever since Vin mentioned the authentic Chinese cuisine he ate the last time he was in Tianjin and Jake is definitely not still vaguely jealous of the general lifestyle Vin leads) and Jake’s stomach is hollow, hollow, hollow.

That’s what makes the rumbling so loud, he thinks.

AO3

you look happy to me

The ball is several hours underway by the time Amy manages to track her children down again - out on the terrace of all places. The doors are propped open to welcome the balmy summer breeze rippling through the curtains (the ones that miraculously survived the dress incident of a few weeks ago), and though the sounds of her guests in fellowship around her and the gentle sounds of the string quartet in the corner command most of her auditory attention, the boisterous male laughter she’s grown all-too-familiar with rings clear and true above the rest.

Of course her children are with Jake.

(She wonders if the day she trusts her nanny to properly watch her children will ever come.)

AO3

you clicked your heels and wished for me

She’s not sure if it’s instinct or her skills as an amazing detective-slash-genius, but Amy knows from the moment she steps into their apartment that something is off.

AO3

untitled one-shot #7

She’s got that look on her face again - the one that makes his heart feel like it’s fluttering in his chest - and when she reaches across the center console to touch his forearm, her hand is warm from the coffee. “Jake,” she murmurs, and his face is burning. “You’re -” she stops and shakes her head, and then starts again. “You are literally the sweetest, most kind and thoughtful and attentive person I’ve ever met.”

He covers her hand with his own and tilts his head to the side, until it’s leaning against the headrest.

AO3

untitled prompt #24

you ever think about what would have happened if it was amy and rosa who worked with hawkins, rather than rosa and jake?

AO3

untitled one-shot #6

The morning of June 15th begins suddenly with a low voice in her ear.

“Amelia Maria Santiago-Peralta,” the voice is quiet, but it rumbles with delight. And even though she groans instinctively at her abrupt return to consciousness, she can’t help but to smile when his lips brush against her ear. “Do you know what today is?”

“Mmm,” she turns her head to bury her face in her pillow for one more moment, before rolling over to her back. When her eyes flutter open she finds him leaning over her, propped up on his elbow, grinning far too brightly for six o’clock in the morning. “It’s Friday,” she mumbles, “and my middle name’s not Maria.”

AO3

let ‘em wonder how we got this far

Amy Santiago does not get sick, thank you very much.

AO3

i’ll always do my best to make you see

The merry misadventures of Morrissey and Schmidt

one | two | three | four | five | six

they say that dreaming is free, but i wouldn’t care what it cost me

This is not a dream. It may look like one, what with all the fairy lights and the flashing red-and-blue strobe lights and that inexplicable feeling of weightlessness originating from somewhere down in his bones, but it’s real. It’s really happening. Amy Santiago is walking down the aisle, in a white dress, with flowers in her hands and a smile on her face and enough love to eradicate the concept of hate in her eyes, and it’s real. She’s walking down the aisle, toward the podium, where she’s going to get married. To him, Jake Peralta. This is not a dream.

AO3

you’ll always be the only one

"since im such an evil person, i just imagined... what would’ve happened if they didnt find out about the bomb...?"

AO3

you held your course to some distant war in the corners of your mind

The vast majority of his view through the rear view mirror is blocked by Amy’s head, raised a bit higher than usual thanks in large part to the hump that makes up the middle seat. He’s certain that’s going to present a problem once they’re on the road and moving, but he’s rather grateful for her presence in his line of vision at the moment. She’s not looking at him, but rather, at the tiny human bundled up like a baby burrito in the car seat to her left. She’s got a big goofy grin on her face and her brows keep rising and falling with each changing expression. A smile - probably the billionth in the last two days - blossoms across his face as he watches her make silly faces at their literally-hours-old daughter.

Brand new car, brander newer daughter.

AO3

build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung

In truth, when Jake made the decision to answer Charles’ incoming phone call an hour earlier, he hand’t really expected much. Maybe a live update of something cute Nikolaj was doing, maybe commentary on whatever inedible animal part he was forcing himself to eat at the time, maybe another Cats-related pun. He expected something ordinary.

au where jake and amy find out they're expecting the same way cece and schmidt do on new girl

AO3

kiss prompt #15

First kisses: Hesitant and nervous. Lips hover inches from each other for a few seconds before they just barely brush. It’s just a soft press, but it ignites their entire bodies. Pinkies link afterwards, still wanting to be close, and each looks down, smiling softly.

AO3

kiss prompt #14

Angry kisses: Hard, gripping. Fists in clothes, shoving each other against walls. Fingers digging into hips. But the kisses always melt away from that. They turn into brushes of lips between shaking breaths, until they’re out of energy and are left just standing there, holding each other, fingers carding through hair.

AO3

kiss prompt #13

Heated kisses: Breath huffing into mouths, angrily or passionately. Hands grabbing at clothing and pulling each other closer.

AO3

kiss prompt #12

“I thought I lost you” kisses: The breath is knocked out of both of them with the force that they collide with. Hands grip the back of t-shirts and palms are pressed up and under shirts, holding them close, feeling the warmth of their skin. Palms are pressed to cheeks, thumbs swiping away tears until their mouths collide messily, the world seeming to disappear around them.

[VERSON 2]

AO3

kiss prompt #11

After sex kisses: Lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving. Soft murmurs about what to do for dinner later, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns. B rolling onto their back and A trailing their lips down their neck, kissing their shoulder, their chest, anywhere they can think of, memorizing B.

AO3

kiss prompt #10

“We can’t do this” kisses: Fists clenched, hands shoved into pockets. Brows low or brought together, jaws clenched. A feeling like a magnetic pull between them. Their foreheads press together, their lips brush, just barely, until B pulls away with a shaking exhale, forehead dropping into A’s neck.

AO3

kiss prompt #9

“You look beautiful” kisses: Just a soft press of lips to the temple, resting them there for a moment, then smiling down and telling them as much.

AO3

kiss prompt #8

Breathless kisses: A series of short pecks because they need the closeness but they also need air, so. Sometimes smiles come in between, or sometimes its just breath, gasping for the sole purpose of being able to kiss again.

[tw: description of near-drowning and mentions of stomach pumping (y’know standard breathless kiss prompt stuff)]

AO3

kiss prompt #7

In the dark kisses: The movie plays in the background, but A and B are hardly paying attention from the back row. They kiss soundlessly, long and soft, fingers locked. A’s arm is thrown behind B’s seat, wrist bent to curl their fingers into B’s hair.

AO3

kiss prompt #6

Hello kisses: After long periods apart, these can include A picking up B and spinning them around. Fingers pressing into cheeks, palms cupping necks, and breathless laughs when they finally come up for air.

AO3

kiss prompt #5

AO3

kiss prompt #4

Comforting kisses: B walks into find A sitting on the bed, shoulders shaking, cheeks wet. A looks up, face looking stricken for a moment. B is shocked, and quietly says A’s name. At this, A breaks, face crumpling, and only barely has time to reach both hands out for B before B is there, kneeling at A’s feet. B takes A’s hands first, kissing their knuckles and palms. Then B reaches up to hold A’s face, pressing soft kisses around their cheeks, their lips, murmuring “it’s okay” and “you’re alright” and “I’m here” in between.

AO3

kiss prompt #3

“Come to bed” kisses: A has their hands on B’s neck, murmuring the phrase softly. A’s hands slide down B’s arms to their hands, lacing their fingers together and slowly starting to pull B towards their bedroom. A continues to pepper B with kisses all the while, trailing them down their jaw and neck.

AO3

kiss prompt #2

“I missed you” kisses: Long and relentless, holding their body close, arms wrapped completely around their waist. A burying their head in B’s neck and pressing kisses there too.

AO3

kiss prompt #1

“I’ll be right back” kisses: A puts their hands on B’s shoulders from behind them, where they are sat on the couch. A leans down and around, while B turns their head a little, accepting the quick peck.

AO3

on my heart like a tattoo

Amy’s a month old, too young to remember anything, and he shows up on her skin for the very first time in the form of an explosion of color.

AO3

don’t read the last page

There’s dry candle wax on the floor by the window and glitter stuck to the soles of her feet; somewhere down in the lobby their friend is carrying her shoes out into a blizzard, the fruits of her expensive Polaroid camera lying forgotten on the rug. Outside the world is muted and painted white with snow, the pain and misery and heartache of the year behind them left at the 11:59 threshold the night before. They faded to nothing at the stroke of midnight, at the heart-stopping meld of their lips, at his hooded smile to the sounds of their friends celebrating all around them, at the way his whispered we’re getting married this yearwas nearly lost in the commotion. Not quite the blank slate of it’s predecessors - but so much better.

The music ends and they keep swaying, clinging, too stubborn to let go. Their apartment is a wreck of discarded Solo cups and empty bottles and dirty dishes but he is warm and soft and he smells so good; eyes squeezed shut, fingers tangled in his shirt, to the beat of her heart her mind chants forever.

AO3

untitled one-shot #5

Amy’s back is toward him but he can see her arm moving in a slow rhythm - probably drawing patterns in the small shag rug at the foot of their bed - and aside from the slight turn of her head, she doesn’t acknowledge his arrival. The apartment is warm, a welcome reprieve to the bitter cold bartering for entrance at their windows, and even though he can see the snow falling thick and swirling in the space between their curtains he can feel the warmth trickling down his fingers and toes.

“Hey,” he says, voice almost boisterous in the comfortable silence swaddling them both. She turns toward him a little more, peering at him through her lashes - and now he can see the pinkness around her nose has spread over her cheeks and darkened to an angrier color, the used, crumpled tissues like confetti on the floor over the top of her head. “Why’re you on the floor?”

AO3

come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

The worn soles of her Ugg boots scuff along the dingy carpet beneath their feet, and her scarf - now draped over one shoulder - drags along the ground behind her. Her mittens, over-stuffed puffy coat, matching ski pants, and thick wool beanie complete the look; he’s honestly never seen her look more Randy from A Christmas Story than she does in this moment.

It is without question the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

AO3

if you want me to stay, i will stay by your side

For someone whose job requires an unusually large amount of personal risk on a near daily basis, Amy Santiago has not dedicated much time considering how she might one day die. The vague assumption that it will probably happen on the job - via stray bullets or careening cars or massive explosions - has been enough to satisfy any musing.

She never imagined doctor's visits or specialist consultations or diagnoses. She never imagined hospital gowns and thinning hair and chemotherapy.

And she never, ever imagined cancer.

AO3

in these dark ad quiet hours

There are unanswered texts on both of their phones, lunch invitations waiting to be received, inquiries about dinner plans or post-work drinks demanding responses; there are fresh boxes of his favorite cereal and his preferred brand of hot chocolate in the kitchen cabinets waiting to be poured. Life, their life, ebbs and flows along the perimeter of their mattress. But they ignore it for now, for just a few more minutes of this. For just a few more minutes of them.

AO3

untitled prompt #23

SO..UH...IS IT TIME FOR YOU TO BLESS US WITH ANOTHER DOMESTIC PERALTIAGO FIC???? (pleaseeeeeeeee)

AO3

survival will not be the hardest part

Of course, it’s not a normal Wednesday. Because on this particular Wednesday, Amy’s functioning on two hours of sleep and approximately five and a half cups of coffee. On this particular Wednesday, she’s simultaneously starving and nauseous, having gotten so caught up in this murder case she’s been working with Rosa that she simply hasn’t had the time to eat. She’s exhausted and clammy and probably just about on the verge of succumbing to the flu she knows has been going around the beat cops downstairs.

She’s also exactly one month out from her wedding day.

AO3

even if the skies get rough

It’s sixty-five degrees in the waiting room of Jericho Supermax Prison and Jake Peralta is absolutely disintegrating in her arms.

AO3

the stakes are high, the water’s rough, but this love is ours

This has her eyes splitting open and her brow furrowing at once. Jake may have only been acquitted and released from prison three days ago but already she’s readjusted to sharing the bed again; to find it empty is to choke down a small, skittish wave of panic. The mattress is still warm, after all - he was in bed recently. And now that her senses are starting to fire on all cylinders, she’s absorbing the heavy scent of coffee and bacon in the air and the sounds of Taylor Swift playing quietly nearby.

And then she hears his voice - quiet, but still cracking as he tries to sing along with a high note.

AO3

untitled prompt #22

What if like in the fanfics, amy actually did get engaged to teddy during jake's undercover op?? and the boy comes back actually finding amy's Wedding binder on her desk and jake's like What The Fuck! !!!??!? and emo while simultaneously trying to be supportive bc this is an exciting thing for amy nd he doesnt want to be the one to ruin it. Imagine jake not showing up at the wedding bc he rlly wouldnt be able to take it only to find amy clad in her wedding dress in his doorstep a few hours later

AO3

untitled prompt #21

Do you think amy dies a little inside everytime she catches jake looking at her with the Soft look? like she's definitely seen it and she's probably teased him about it at some point but home girl probably loves it so! much! and she loves him so much and HE loves her so much too! she knows that with her whole being but it catches her offguard sometimes bc this sunshine boy really loves her to bits and he's so good to her and he makes her so so so happy and amy needs to lie down

AO3

untitled one-shot #4

It’s the solid landing of a tiny hand against his cheek, quickly followed by a quiet gasp and a muffled giggle, that rouses Jake from sleep.

AO3

untitled prompt #20

it's canon that jake makes mixtapes so what if he has a box of them labeled with the day they were made and what if amy finds that stash while jake is absent for some reason (based on ur need for Angst™, this reason is up for interpretation) and spends a day going through them, laughing at her nerd bf & his mixtapes ranging from tswift to conner4real to toni braxton until she finds one labeled with the date that he went undercover. again, based on the angst need, this can go so many ways

AO3

untitled prompt #19

How cute would Amy's first Mother's Day be...

AO3

untitled prompt #18

Imagine Jake taking Amy to dinner after her exam to celebrate, and at the restaurant he keeps telling people at nearby tables that his girlfriend just became a sergeant, because he's just so proud and wants to brag about her. And Amy pretends to be exasperated but she can't hold back a smile

AO3

untitled prompt #17

This is the first time in three weeks she’s allowed herself to exist within the walls once stretched to capacity with love, with laughter, with the occasional healthy bouts of exasperation. And really, honestly, she hadn’t intended to snoop. She was just searching for a certain hoodie - one she lived in for months at a time a year ago when this Jake-shaped hole was first blown through her chest - and in the process of looking through old boxes stacked at the back of the hall closet that never really got around to being unpacked, she’d found a binder.

A binder with her father’s name in Garamond typeface emblazoned across the front cover.

(She can’t help but instinctively wrinkle her nose - she would have chosen Tahoma.)

AO3

untitled prompt #16

Hey there! I got an idea for Peraltiago (bc i am trash) One of them gets EXTREMELY wasted and forgets that they're actually dating the other so they start shamelessly flirting with them. The other just plays along. I feel like this would fit Amy cause of "The Santiago Drunkenness Scale" but I'd love to see (in this case, read) a drunk and goofy Jake fall in love all over again. But you decide which is best! P.S I really love your work! ^_^

AO3

untitled prompt #15

Amy has to go in for some kind of procedure, very low key, everything's kosher. However, since she's gonna be out of it for a few hours, Jake has to take care of her.

AO3

untitled prompt #14

Plz write a fluffy fic about when Amy and the ladies + Charles get hammered for rosas bachelorette party Amy either talks to them about Jake or comes home to Jake and is adorable and lovey

AO3

untitled one-shot #3

The first thing Jake does after the bailiff announces the not-guilty verdict is high-five his lawyer. The second thing he does is high-five Rosa.

The third, and perhaps most dramatic thing he does, is turn around, vault the low wall separating the audience from the rest of the courtroom, and kiss Amy.

AO3

untitled prompt #13

Can you write something where jake and Amy go to hook up in the evidence locker or closet or something and end up getting stuck and Amy is like !!!well shit!!! Cause she's claustrophobic

AO3

you did this to him

"So Jake's doing the right thing instead of the selfish thing?"

AO3

untitled prompt #12

could you please write what was going through jake's and amy's minds when figgus had jake at gun point??

AO3

untitled one-shot #2

“Jake,” Amy’s voice is low and soothing as she pulls the car smoothly to the side of the road. Jake grunts, too busy flipping through his notecards to verbalize a response. “Jake, babe, please relax. It’s okay. There are seven of them. I can’t even remember all of their names.”

“That is the biggest lie you’ve ever told me in your entire life, and that includes the time you tried to tell me McGinley asked you to clean out the fridge in the breakroom.”

“Oh my God, it’s been seven years, are you ever gonna let that go?”

AO3

untitled prompt #11

Amy and jake laughing and/or discussing teddy proposing to her

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untitled prompt #10

I can't stop wondering about the scar on Jake's back that he got by banging into Amy's kitchen cabinet. How did it happen? Were they making out? Was he cooking and something fell to the ground? What did Jakey do this time? ... Think of this as a prompt if you need/want one.

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untitled prompt #9

If you're not too busy with prompts, Jake x Amy and the phrase "you fight like a married couple". Thank you :)

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untitled prompt #8

can you write an angsty fic about jake reacting to an old friend dying and amy trying to comfort him??

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when you press me to your heart, i’m in a world apart

“Do you ever think about all the time we lost?”

Jake asks the question quietly, half-mumbled against her neck. The tone of his voice is the same as it has been for the last hour they’ve spent laying in her bed - light, carefree, relaxed. His fingers trace lightly over her side, having edged beneath the hem of her t-shirt twenty minutes ago to trace circles and hearts and swirls over her ribs; all-in-all, far away enough that he probably doesn’t notice the fact that her heart has just skipped a beat.

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watching through my fingers

Eyes closed, one swollen, a violet bruise that gives way in places to greener colors marking the shape of the fist that put it there, slanted down from just above her brow to her cheekbone. Beautiful and painful, like a sunset that rips his heart out of his body. Her eyelids are delicate and thin, so so breakable, hiding those warm brown eyes from smiling up at him and assuring him that everything is okay. It’s all okay. She’s okay.

He is not okay.

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don’t be fools, thinking this is the last you’ll find

Jake gets nervous for the second time on their first official date when they make it back to Amy’s apartment. More specifically, when they’re standing just outside of the entrance to her apartment. When her hair, so light and wavy and tantalizing, is moving just slightly in the late-night breeze and her eyes are bright from both the alcohol and the laughter that filled the long stretch of time after that alcohol; his whole entire chest is suddenly seized with nerves. He hasn’t been this close to her since the copy room at work earlier, just one hour after their evidence lock-up kiss. He swallows thickly and her eyes flick down at the movement.

His dart down to her lips. He’s just a beat too late coming back up to her eyes.

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untitled prompt #7

I need a scene where Jake is sad so to cheer him up Amy gives him a picture of her and Charles from when they wore the same outfit while Jake was undercover

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untitled prompt #6

I really need to dump 'Jake gets framed for murder/some other crime and has to spend some time in prison, while the team fights to clear his name and get him out' on someone, Peraltiago of course, and may be Doug Judy is looking after Jake in prison. ??? IDK

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untitled prompt #5

Do you think you could write a fic where jake and Amy get into a big fight and go back to their own places but they're both super sad about it and make it up to each other in the morning?

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romeo, save me, they’re trying to tell me how to feel

B99 Au idea where Amy never worked in the 9-9 and instead has been groomed by Madeline Wuntch her entire professional career as her protégé, leading to a Romeo-and-Julietesque romance and rivalry between Ray Holt’s own protégé, causing them to have to hide their relationship once they have their asses in gear - Tumblr user stardustsantiago

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and the bells are ringing out

Jake Peralta is sitting in the interrogation room.

It’s strange, Amy thinks as she watches him through the glass. They’ve probably been in this same position at least three dozen times before - her on this side, him on that one - but never once has she been quite this anxious. Never once has he seemed quite so frail.

Never once has he tended to his own minor wounds, or held his own ice pack to his bruised and swollen eye, or watched the door with as much quiet intensity.

Never once has he been a victim.

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we watched the sun set over the castle on the hill

It’s not constant, but it’s enough - it strikes a chord deep within her, reverberating back through the years and vibrating in her very bones, each instance blazing in her memory like a makeshift patchwork quilt spanning back over a decade to that first lonely stakeout in their prologue.

A series of snapshots of Jake Peralta's pursuit of happiness.

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you can tell me when it’s over if the high was worth the pain

Once upon a time, there was a knight in shining pantsuit armor who rescued a fair prince from an evil hawk's detention center...

Or, Amy has never been one to lie down at the face of injustice; this is especially true when the one facing injustice happens to be the love of her life.

Post s4 finale fic, in 4 movements.

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should i suffocate or let go

Amy's not sure, really, when her life became so tragic.

She’s not a tragic person. She’s never known sorrow in an intimate way, never really felt her bones turn cold with it. Organization keeps the demons at bay; she knows this as surely as she knows her own name.

Enter: Jake Peralta.

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all my seconds, minutes, lifetimes for you and only you

“You had me worried for a minute, there,” he tells her quietly while she lavishes attention on the faded freckles along his shoulders.

(It’s code: you could have just talked to me.)

She pauses, long eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones, before tilting her head back up to peer at him. “I knew you’d find me eventually,” she says off-handedly. “I just - I freaked myself out.”

(It’s also code: you and I both know I would only have freaked out more.)

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hold on to hope if you’ve got it

He wonders, distantly, what the soul mate science says about situations like this. He wonders as the cool backside of Amy’s hand presses against his forehead; he wonders as he loses touch completely with reality, as his mind comes unhinged and tears spewing down his face spread at an alarming rate across the mattress beneath his violently tilted head.

Who's he supposed to turn to when she can’t be there for him?

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i think i’m tired of getting over it

She’s not sure about the how or the when or the why, but on one warm afternoon in May, Gina is faced with the realization that one Rosa Diaz has become an undeniable cornerstone in her life. Gina almost hates herself for allowing this to happen, for allowing this one person to become so intimately entangled in the life she’s built for herself that the moment that person disappears from it, everything comes crashing down again. Her eyes are open and she can still see colors and feel textures and the world is still real and spinning, except her mind has dropped off back into that void and there is nothing there to pull her out, there is no one, nothing, gone gone gone -

“Gina?” Gina blinks, and Amy Santiago’s face comes fading into view.

[a s4 finale prediction]

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just let the pain remind you hearts can heal

He’s been walking a fine line recently. She’s been out of the hospital for less than a week, and while she’s been incredibly diligent about following all of the instructions the doctor gave her about medicine and physical therapy, she’s been all but belligerent about the bed rest side of things. It’s hard to tell her no, and not just because one pleading look would be enough to convince Jake to commit arson for her; Amy Santiago can be quite intimidating when she wants to be.

(Part of him wonders just how much that terrifying look hardened while she was undercover. Part of him never ever wants to know.)

[set in the sleepwalking universe]

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the well-worn pages of my favorite book

"How dare you tempt me with a small bookstore!"

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untitled prompt #4

omg idk if this has been done yet, but imagine an au with jake and amy where amy is an artist and jake is a photographer or something and they're each others muses like o m g

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untitled prompt #3

um hi love your writing BUCKETS - prompt for after tonight's ep, jake goes home and accidentally lets it slip that he wants to have kids at some point (a la mentioning he kissed holt - totally unintentional, slips out by mentioning charles in convo with amy, potentially??)

AND

Prompt! The night of Captain Latvia, Jake talks to Amy about his thoughts on what Boyle said about Jake never becoming a dad.

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untitled prompt #2

Prompt idea: get this... jake amy in highschool .. prom is coming up.. amy cant go something comes up.. jake is super excited but .. instead stays with amy at her house playing board games in pjs

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untitled prompt #1

do you have any headcanons for jake and amy on valentine's day? an idea of mine is that they're both working late and so they can't go out for dinner or anything and thus jake feels bad and buys amy all the tacky valentine's gifts he can find within a mile radius of the precinct

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untitled one-shot #1

Amy can tell something’s off the moment she steps off the elevator.

To the naked eye, everything about the bullpen appears to be perfectly normal. There are three perps sitting in holding, and Charles is bickering with Scully over the coffee pot in the break room. Gina’s engrossed in whatever is illuminating her face on her computer screen, Rosa’s scribbling something in the margin of what appears to be official paperwork, and Holt’s office door is closed. She can see Terry’s back through the open blinds - the two appear to be deep in conversation.

The only one missing is Jake - which is why she’s immediately suspicious.

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baby, you were my picket fence

Amy snatches it and takes a long pull, screwing her eyes shut against the bitter taste, but even as she coughs and splutters as she lowers the bottle again Rosa finds that she just can’t make fun of her. “Good? Or do I need to order another bottle?”

“Another,” says Amy, and then, “he’s gone.”

Rosa stiffens, gaze lifting to scan over the crowd around them. “Who?” She asks quietly when she can’t spot the threat.

“Jake.”

She deflates. “Yeah, he left, like, three hours ago -”

“Not three hours ago, ten minutes ago. And he - he stopped me in the parking lot, as I was on my way out.” She swallows again, thickly this time, and Rosa clenches her jaw. “He confessed - he told me that he likes me.”

For a split-second, Rosa has to fight the craziest urge to laugh. It’s all so juvenile - a boy confessed he liked her and she’s immediately distraught, how utterly cliche - before the implications of it all belatedly hit her. “Oh.”

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this girl right here’s gonna rule the world

Could you write something where Rosa encourages Gina to think about becoming a cop/something post coral palms pt3??? Xoxoxo - ANONYMOUS

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don’t let our hearts freeze

I see a lot of Jake helping Amy with panick attacks but not much of the opposite and you write intimate moments between them so well, so would you write the first time Jake feels safe enough with Amy to call her when he gets a panick attack (establish relationship) ? - FUCKINGDAMNITDEAN

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just say you won’t let go

Hey there, I love your writing, so if you're ever up to, could you write Rosa and Charles watching the surveillance tapes from the evidence lock up in episode 03x01? I just think it would be so funny to actually see (in this case read) Charles watching Jake and Amy killing a guy with their kiss, and Rosa telling him to chill (while secretly smiling to herself). - ANONYMOUS

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my life before was tragic

Prompt! After Jake and Amy start dating, Jake finds the ring from The Bet in Amy's desk and asks her why she went back to get it. - ANONYMOUS

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stuck in second gear

HAS ANYONE WRITTEN A JAKE AND AMY PROPOSAL THAT HAPPENS JUST LIKE MONICA AND CHANDLER’S PROPOSAL - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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the roads ahead are paved with good intentions

i just remembered this and i think it’s really interesting that amy told teddy both times jake told her he liked her, before and after he went undercover - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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heaven and earth have finally aligned

ANONYMOUS: so do you have any headcanons regarding the Jake and Amy stills from the wedding? (I.e. write a short fic based on the pictures of them)

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i’ll be there for you

Hey, do you know an episode of friends where Monica and Chandler are secretly dating and he accidentally kisses her in front of Phoebe and Rachel? Can you write that Peraltiago-stylez? Please please pleeeaase?

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i'm still waiting patiently

i am ONLY asking bc i'm a self destructive mess rn but if ur in an angst writing mood could u write something where like jake has to cheat on amy while he's in florida???? idk????? i love angst

[PLEASE NOTE: i didn't write this exact prompt]

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something like that

i don't know if you're taking prompts but could you do Jake and Amy's first kiss like Nick and Jess. AUish. Idk. THANK YOU FOR EXISTING

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when i’m wiser and i’m older

Jake has six months worth of missed cuddling with one Amy Santiago, and he does not intend to waste any time in catching up - pain killers and airplanes be damned.

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just like a movie, just like a song

Amy Santiago does not break rules.

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where the numb meets the lonely

Anonymous said: Okay so I was just thinking about the fact that Jake and Amy's one-year anniversary probably occurred while Jake has been in Florida- do you think Jake had like a fake anniversary celebration with Amy's selfie? Also thinking about Jake and Amy not getting to be together for their anniversary makes me sad.

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and as our eyes start to close

He’s gone thirty-some-odd years without mourning his lack of a broad English vernacular, but that all changes the first time he sets foot into his new apartment after living in Florida for six months.

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you're not alone, 'cause you're here with me

Pertaigo oneshot where Amy has a really really bad panic attack? It can be at the prescient can be there to - ANONYMOUS

Can you please write Amy having a sever anxiety attack? - ANONYMOUS

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and you’re the sky

JAKE AND AMY MEET THE EXACT SAME WAY JANE AND MICHAEL DO AU (an unassuming beat cop shows up to her epic twenty first birthday door and gets mistaken for a stripper) - PHIL-THE-STONE

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how can i be an optimist about this?

ok for a jake/amy prompt how about their first fight as a married couple? can be as simple or as angsty as you please! - ANONYMOUS

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i promise that you'll never be lonely

Hi this is the same anon with the moving in together prompt so i have two and I'm not sure if these are more one-shotty or if you've done these before but 1)jake and/or amy's inner thoughts during johnny and dora 2) amy calling her mom to tell her about jake and her answering all of those *annoying* mom questions also are you on ff. net and or ao3? sorry you've probably posted about it before but I just started following so i don't know - ANONYMOUS

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and i see colors in a different way

as payback for the dress she wore and having to dance with scully in the bet amy plans a bad date to take jake on even though she doesnt expect to use it and later (while dating jake?) finds her notes while going through and cleaning out some old binders/notebooks - ANONYMOUS

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why don't you sit right down and stay awhile?

Prompt! Jake finds out Amy has never seen diehard and takes her to see it immediately - TARDIISBLUE

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to make up for the times i've been cheated on

u heathen okAY OKAY imma be Terrible and say Jake gets shot protecting Captain Holt and Amy and Rosa react ;;;;)))))))))))))) - PHIL-THE-STONE

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got that good song in my feet

prompt! six drink amy around jake in established relationship (i.e she's no longer lonely,, she's more clingy and emotional?? idk) :))) - FOURDRINKAMY

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i'd pay to see you smile

I've seen AU oneshots where Amy arrests civilian!Jake, but what about one where he arrests her--maybe a bit of a Doug Judy S2 ep type situation where she's flirting with him and he's into it but then catches himself? - GRYFFINDORSWEATER

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six days

Watching the speech scene in The Funeral where Jake is so adamantly willing to get demoted and Ames is trying to convince him that it’s his dream job and he shouldn’t let it go that easily and then he tells her ‘Amy…this good’

Like. I know they were both already way too deep once they started it, but?? I really?? Need someone to write a fic centering around Jake’s PoV during those six days? What was he thinking while he and Amy did Normal Couple Things? Did he constantly get streams of thoughts that revolved around how this is a reality that he’s alive and he’s not dreaming and how amazing this whole thing is that he can openly give her the Looks and hold her hand and snuggle with her and he can openly show her affection because they’re dating now?? I NEED SOMEONE TO WRITE A FIC PLS

- Tumblr user tall-butt

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i’ve been sleepwalking too close to the fire

Amy goes undercover immediately following the events of Johnny and Dora. Jake and the others try to deal.

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the only proof that i need is you

"in which Amy makes a habit of ranting to the bartender (about her terrible day, her last awful date, the patriarchy), and Jake takes it upon himself to try to make her smile."

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and let your colors bleed and blend with mine

"in which Jake and Amy are New York’s Most Wanted… or so he thinks. Amy’s actually an undercover cop meant to take him down – except it’s a year into the assignment, her fake feelings for him are a bit too real, and she just can’t imagine turning over this big misunderstood softy to the feds."

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and ignore those big warning signs

“Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I love him. Please, Charles, I’ll hold them off for as long as I can, just - just go!”

The last words Amy Santiago speaks before waking up alone in a hospital room, handcuffed to her bed.

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i never knew daylight could be so violent

Charles likes to think of himself as the world's first post-apocalyptic gourmet chef.

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and we will put the lonesome on the shelf

They get married on a Saturday evening, and that morning, it rains.

Amy wakes to the gentle tap of steady rainfall knocking gently on the window just three inches back from the very top of her head. For a moment, she lays very still - her sleep-dried eyes blink lazily up at the all-too-familiar ceiling above her head, watching blankly as a dull muted light casts soft shadows that stretch from the window all the way to the ceiling fan in the center of the room. She inhales deeply, so deeply that she feels a faint pop between her shoulder blades, and her eyes flutter shut again.

Seconds later, the stillness of the morning is pierced by an all-too-familiar alarm, and when her eyes fly open, they fly open on the wings of a powerful surge of excitement and adrenaline.

She’s getting married today.

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and i’ll tell you all about it when i see you again

It's snowing by the time they make it home from Brooklyn Methodist Hospital.

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love you inside out

Amy cries the night Jake comes home from Florida.

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most nights, i don’t know anymore

A response to the following prompt:

It isn’t a fanfic unless Main Character has to tear their gaze away from the strip of skin revealed above Love Interest’s waistband when they casually stretch their arms above their head.

----

“It’s the way he looks when he talks about her. There’s just…I don’t know, I can’t explain it. There’s something in his eyes when he talks about her, or when he looks at a photo of her. He would never hurt her. It’s written all over his face.”

“Are you quoting two-thousand-nine Beyonce at me?”

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your arms wrapped around me and this moment

"How did you know they were the one?"

"I just...knew."

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you know that i am home

It’s the sum total of many moving parts that ends up landing him in such a position at such a late hour; the coalescing of several Unfortunate Incidences, of which he had little to no control over, that thrusts him into such a predicament. A series of bad omens, as Gina would later tell him with a knowing smile, that he just couldn’t avoid, because he’s a freight train careening out of control and this is the end of the tracks.

Or something - something like that. It’s hard to think straight at 3 o’clock in the morning.

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my head is an animal

Anonymous: But: Jake is a sleep cuddler. Amy found this out before they were dating. They were on a long stakeout together and it was her shift. Jake fell asleep next to her clung onto her like his life depended on it. She didnt have the heart to wake him. Also: Gina found it out at a sleepover when they were kids. She woke up to Jake almost squeezing her to death. She screamed and threw a pillow at his head. Jake was not amused. Gina never slept beside Jake again.

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i’m with your ghost again

"wait what if there’s a flashback during s4 of Jake and Holt leaving for Florida and it shows them saying goodbye to Amy and Kevin like I am not ready for that but it’s all I want" - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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i’m gonna be free and i’m gonna be fine

It all ends the same way it starts: with a phone call.

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i’m gonna make this place your home

It's 3 AM and Jake is trying to comfort his newborn daughter without waking his wife. Delirious rambling ensues.

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wake me up when it’s all over

A stolen moment between Jake and Amy in the days after he returns from Florida.

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i know places

Missing moment alluded to in the s3 finale:

"No one knows where I live." "I thought you had Amy over there once?" "Yeah, it was fun. I moved the next day."

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riptide

Request: Could you do a fanfiction where an old ex flirts with amy and makes her laugh and jake realises he’s wants to be the only one to make her laugh? JEALOUS JAKE IS THE BEST JAKE

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new york city, please go easy on me tonight

"There isn't a single person in the world I'd rather have on this case than you."

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rivers and roads

"Rivers and roads, rivers and roads, rivers 'til I reach you."

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thunder

Jake is thirty-five years old when he discovers a new breed of thunder.

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until the sweetest words remain

In her four-year stint as an art major, Amy learned a lot of different words to describe beauty. She studied brushstrokes that communicated immeasurable pain and triumph and hope and fear. She learned how one piece of art could capture a moment so intense she felt like she could feel the artist’s breath on her neck. She felt positive that she’d never meet anyone who could make her feel as much as Michelangelo could with just one facial expression.

Until she met Jake.

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of all the things my eyes have seen

Sometimes healing only comes one piece at a time. Sometimes it's so slow, it's painful. And sometimes it only happens when the people we love push us toward it. A stand-alone one shot that spins off from the events of Heliocentrism.

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heliocentrism

Prompt: Amy goes undercover for some time (months maybe??). Jake goes crazy because he misses her like hell and is worried about her. He is very sad. Then she comes back and they are very cute (lots of fluff please!!)

You only need the light when it's burning low, only miss the sun when it starts to snow, only know you love her when you let her go.

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THE GOOD PLACE

the song in my head was all that i had

He's Chidi Anagonye, and everything is fine.

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GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY

were we the belly of the beast or the sword that fell

The expanse of inky blackness sprawled out before her seems peaceful in spite of Drax’s mind-numbing laughter booming through the Benatar, and though the sound of it grates against her ears even after all the time she’s spent in close quarters with him, she feels her lips twitching, fighting against a smile. He’s off somewhere in the bowels of the ship with Mantis, probably exploring whatever areas they’ve not yet discovered. And she knows Rocket’s busy arguing with Groot near the storage area - apparently explosives don’t mix well with whatever kindling Groot has started to shed. And Peter -

He’d shuffled off to the captain’s quarters with the earpieces of his Zune tucked securely in his ears some time ago.

It seems that all is right in the galaxy.

For now.

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STRANGER THINGS

the wind is low, the birds will sing that you are part of everything

ANONYMOUS ASKED: a fic prompt - Steve gets introduced to El and internally he's like 'guess ive got 5 kids now' :3

She looks very different than she did three days earlier. Gone is the slicked-back hair and heavy eye makeup, gone are the ratty jeans and ripped shirts and jackets. The girl that sits before him now doesn’t particularly look like she’s hiding superpowers. She looks like just that, a girl - radiating innocence and timidity beneath a veritable mop of lazy curls that hang down in her big wide brown eyes. Her clothes are big and baggy and definitely scream hand-me-down but he can tell by looking at her that she has no concept of why that might be a bad thing.

It’s when she slides off the bed and steps toward him - after casting an uncertain glance at Mike - that it really hits him. She reaches up to push her hair out of her eyes and he finally sees them, the depth behind those irises, the strength radiating off of her that seems to originate somewhere down in her bones. What he thought was timidity is now a carefully-restrained surge of pure power. It very nearly floors him.

“Hi,” her voice is soft and measured and her hand is steady as she reaches toward him.

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watching through windows, you’re wondering if i’m okay

The whole house is quiet, the echoes of Billy’s barbaric screaming long-since faded away, but when Mike closes his eyes and inhales deeply enough, he could swear he still smells the faintly tangy scent of whatever that gel was in El’s hair, the one that filled his lungs when he breathed her in. He can still feel the heat of her against him, the way her heart beat so hard and wild against his chest, the way her nails dug into his shoulders through his sweater when he’d hugged her as close and as hard as he could. He can still feel her, alive and breathing, real and there, even though it’s been a couple of hours and he’s had as many brushes with death in that time. The anxiety still bristling in his stomach roars and doubles over on top of itself, threatening to buckle his knees and bring him to the floor for a moment.

It’s the memory of those headlights flaring to near blinding proportions that keeps him steady on his feet. There’s no way that was anything but Eleven.

The aftermath of the group's collective brush with the Mind Flayer and his army.

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#em's masterpost #brooklyn 99 fanfiction #the good place fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

43 notes · View notes

orangeoctopi7 · 6 years ago

Text

Stanswap AU Part 34

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

Part 31 Part 32 Part 33

Here it is, the last chapter! Special thanks to @digikate813 and @eregyrn-falls for consistently reading and reblogging, along with anyone else who ever reblogged this story, it’s because of you that this story has spread. Thanks to @blaiddraws and @hntrgurl13 for drawing fanart (even if I did commission hntrgurl13, still grateful) and of course thanks to @busket because even if our AUs were developed independently, I still took a lot of inspiration from them and their way awesome art.

Speaking of which, this chapter draws a lot of inspiration from these posts.

Chapter 34: Hero Complex

The house was still in one piece when the kids got back. There was no evidence whether the shield spell was still holding or not, but they were all just happy to find a familiar structure to hide out in. They were about to open the door when they all heard something inside. Dipper picked up a golf club that'd been sitting on the porch, Wendy pulled out her crossbow, Mabel readied her grappling hook, and Soos took a karate stance.

“Yaaaaah!” The four friends yelled as they kicked the door open.

“Yaaaaah!” A ragtag group of townsfolk and magical creatures from the woods led by Stan yelled, ready to defend their turf.

“Wait, Stan!?” Dipper and Mabel gasped when they realized who it was.

“Kids!?” Stan disengaged the weapons system in his prosthetic, “I can't believe it! I thought I'd lost you two!”

The three of them shared a happy reunion hug. Tears flowed more freely than at least two of them would care to admit. Wendy and Soos soon joined in the hug. Even if they didn't know Stan all that well, it was still nice to see a friend after everything that had happened.

“It's good to have you knuckleheads back.” Stan said as he finally broke away from the hug.

“Why… what's everyone doing here?” Dipper asked as he surveyed the room. There were Candy and Grenda, dressed like Mad Max cosplayers, and Pacifica, who was wearing a pillowcase or something, and the Multibear, who was wearing an eye-patch on his main head, along with some gnomes, a manotaur, and the boy band Sev’ral Timez.

“Welcome to the survivors’ club.” Stan shrugged.

“Whaaa?” The kids asked.

“Eyebat!!” A gnome cried before anyone could explain. Everyone in the house scrambled to put out all the lights and close all the shutters and curtains. Dipper and Mabel couldn't help but peek outside between some blinds. Sure enough, an eyebat was flapping around outside. The sweeping beam of its paralysing gaze was stopped by a shimmering pink shield the moment it looked towards the house.

“So the shield is still working!” Dipper observed.

“Grunkle Stan, how'd this happen?” Mabel asked once the eyebat passed.

“Well, after seein’ my brother turned to gold and thinkin’ Dipper here’d been eaten, I didn't know what else to do except come back here. That's when I ran into possum breath here” Stan jabbed a mechanical thumb towards McGucket, “leading a group of stragglers through the woods. They needed a place to stay, so I took 'em all in and made myself chief. Plan is to stay here and live off Ford's food storage long as we can. Then I vote we eat the gnomes.”

“Hey, I'm short, not deaf!!” Jeff protested.

“Grunkle Stan, we can't just hide out here, there's a town in need of saving!” Dipper protested.

“Look, kiddo, we’ve got a good deal here.” Stan explained. “It ain’t ideal, I know, but we’ve got everything we need in here. A lot of these guys may look like monsters, but they’re actually pretty nice. Bear-bear here even knows Shiatzu!”

“Yes, I’ve been taking some classes.” The multi-bear nodded.

“We can stay here where it’s safe as long as we need to.”

“Grunkle Stan, you don’t actually think if we wait it out long enough Bill will just go away!?” Mabel was scandalized.

“Yeah, what happened?” Dipper asked, “Before you were all about taking the fight to Bill and not waiting a second, and now you just wanna hole up inside as long as you can?”

“Look what trying to fight Bill got us!” Stan snapped, “I wasted my only shot, that shazbot took my know-it-all brother as a literal trophy, and until you kids showed up on the doorstep a moment ago, I thought you all were dead! At least in here we can live some sort of life, out there all that’s waiting for us is death or worse!”

“But… what about our families?” Soos asked quietly.

Stan didn’t have an answer for that. He just looked away, but as his eyes swept across the room, he saw almost everyone wore the same expression: worry for their loved ones. Not long before the kids had showed up, they’d picked up a broadcast on the TV from inside the Fearamid, where they saw most everyone in Gravity Falls frozen in stone and stacked into a throne for Bill.

“Guys, don’t you see?” Mabel encouraged them as she climbed to the top of the stairs where everyone could see her, “Our friends need us, but we can only save them if we fight back!”

“Mabel’s right!” Dipper joined her, “Bill wants us to run and hide. He wants us to think he’s invincible, but Ford told me before he was turned to gold he knows Bill’s secret weakness!”

“Yeah, and then his oh-so-special research Journals were destroyed.” Stan scoffed. “We got no leads kid. I spent twelve years tryin’ to fight against Bill, and never heard nothin’ about any ‘secret weakness’.”

“Then we’ll rescue him!” The boy exclaimed, “If Ford’s the only one who knows about Bill’s weakness then we’ll have to get it from him! If we all work together, we might be able to save Gravity Falls!”

Everyone cheered, except Stan, who still seemed skeptical. “And how d’you plan on doin’ that? This is the only place where we’re safe, and it’s not like we can carry the shield spell around with us.”

“W-whoa! Holey Hootenanny! Flapjacks an’ Tiddlywinks!” McGucket suddenly burst out, his knee bouncing up and down as he thumped his foot against the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” He said sheepishly as everyone stared at him. “Just got excited is all. But I got an idea hows about we can fight Bill an’ rescue Ford! But I’ll need all’a y’all’s help!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa people, let’s not forget who’s in charge here!” Stan snorted indignantly, “I’ve been on the run from that psycho for the better part of twelve years, and now you want me to just waltz up to the guy’s front door?”

“Grunkle Stan, I’m sure we’re not gonna just walk up to the Fearamid,” Mabel assured him, “Just hear McGucket out!”

“No! There’s no way I’m leaving this house!”

Stan was not particularly happy to hear the plan involved literally taking the house to Bill. Sure, it seemed like a good idea on paper. If the only thing protecting them from Bill was attached to the house, it made sense to bring the house with them. But turning the place into a giant fighting robot!? That was just ridiculous! Nevermind the dimension he’d visited with actual fifty-foot fighting treehouse robots. He was pretty sure that was a spectator sport, and not for actual combat. Certainly not for fighting against the all-powerful ruler of the nightmare realm.

Still, as they began cutting holes in the walls and using leftover parts from the portal to build actual working giant robot arms and legs, Stan began to think this might actually work. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

He’d nearly lost it when people started leaving the safety of the shield spell to try and raid more stuff they needed from outside, but so far everyone who had left for the junkyard and the amber mines had come back safely.

Now the “Shacktron”, as Soos had dubbed it after a comment on the house’s state by Pacifica, was nearly complete, and everyone was enjoying a bonfire as Mabel passed out sweaters, celebrating all they’d already accomplished and what they hoped to accomplish tomorrow.

“Uhg, I go through all this trouble to keep these survivors safe, and they’re gonna risk it all; for what? The chance that Stanford might know Bill’s weakness?” Stan complained to the only person who would listen to him, an ugly gnome who didn’t say much. “It’s a load of… of…” Stan searched his considerable vocabulary of alien swears for an appropriate phrase.

“Shmebulock!” The gnome exclaimed.

“Yeah! It’s a load of Shmebulock!” the old con man agreed. But his rage quickly died into a sigh. “It’s my own fault though. We wouldn't have to go save my brother if I hadn’t talked him into confrontin’ Bill right away in the first place. ...Bill wouldn’t even be in our dimension if my brother hadn’t opened that portal for me….”

“Grunkle Stan, is something wrong?” Mabel asked as she and Dipper suddenly walked into his field of vision. Stan jumped. He was losing his touch in his old age, he hadn’t even noticed they were there.

“Wh-bu-pft-I’m not-- I’m fine!” He spluttered. “How long have you kids been standin’ there listenin’ to me mouth off?”

“We just saw you acting grumpier than usual and wanted to make sure everything’s ok.” Mabel shrugged.

“It’s this plan to save my stupid brother!” Stan harrumphed. “I’ve been working hard to keep everybody safe, and what thanks do I get? Nothin’! But maybe he knows somethin’ about stoppin’ Bill, and suddenly everybody’s ready to risk their lives to save him. No matter what I do, it’s always ‘Stan’s the screw-up, Ford’s the hero’.”

Dipper frowned. He’d heard what Stan was saying to Shmebulock before. “Grunkle Stan, you’re not a screw up. This isn’t your fault any more than it is Mabel’s. Bill tricked you, because that’s what he does! Of course you wanted to come home! Of course you wanted to try anything to stop Bill as quickly as possible! And yeah, things went wrong, but that doesn’t mean you should hide away and beat yourself up for it! We have a chance to fix things now, and yeah, it’s risky, but at least there’s a chance that we’ll be able to save the world, instead of just accepting that this is the way things are now!”

“Yeah!” Mabel agreed, “Besides, you love risk!”

Stan gave a fond sigh and hugged the two of them. “Heh, alright, you kids’ve convinced me. I’ll get on board with Project: Long Odds. Whatever you want me to do, just ask.”

“Yes!” Mabel cheered, “Trust me, guys, tomorrow's gonna be great! We’ll save Grunkle Ford, and then you won’t have to worry about him anymore!”

“What, tch, I’m… I’m not worried about him!” Stan protested, crossing his arms and looking away. “I only care about finding a way to stop Bill, and that know-it-all is our best bet.”

Mabel and Dipper rolled their eyes. “Sure, Grunkle Stan.”

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t feel anything beyond the pain jolting through him. He couldn’t see anything beyond the burning blue light blinding him. He couldn’t hear anything beyond the ragged screaming that he no longer recognized as his own. He couldn’t smell anything beyond the crackling ozone. He couldn’t taste anything beyond the metallic tang that he didn’t have the presence of mind to realize was probably his own blood. This was his world. He knew nothing else.

Then, mercifully, it stopped, and his brain started ticking again. His thoughts and feelings slowly trickled back. He was Stanford Pines, the last one standing between Bill Cipher and destroying the rest of the universe outside of Gravity Falls. He couldn’t break. He couldn’t tell Bill what he wanted to know. He couldn’t let the demon into his mind. He could feel the manacles digging into his skin. He could see Bill and his cronies standing over him like a gang of school yard bullies. He could hear his own labored breathing and the snickering of the Henchmaniacs. He still couldn’t smell much other than ozone, but at least now he knew he was tasting his own blood. It wasn’t nearly as much as he’d expected.

“READY TO TALK NOW?” Bill asked in a bored tone.

“I-I won’t…” Ford rasped. “...I won’t… let you into my mind!”

“WHADDAYA SAY, PALS, ANOTHER 500 VOLTS?” Bill asked his audience. The Henchmaniacs laughed and cheered. Bill was winding up for another blast of electricity when they all heard a thumping noise coming from outside the Fearamid. It grew louder and louder, until… crash! A theropod head burst through the wall and roared.

“WHAT!? I JUST FIXED THAT DOOR!” Bill whined.

Ford squinted to see what was outside the Fearamid. His glasses were so dirtied with soot he wondered briefly if he might see better without them. Was that… was that his house!?

“It’s the Shacktron, dudes!” he more heard than saw Soos cheer. Oh no, what was Soos doing here!? Didn’t he realize the danger? And who else had he brought with him? Ford could only imagine what Bill would do if the triangle managed to nab all his loved ones at once.

“SO THE MORTALS ARE TRYING TO FIGHT BACK, HUH? ADORABLE!” Bill gave a cruel chuckle. “HENCHMANIACS, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO! TAKE ‘EM OUT!”

It was hard for Ford to see what was going on from his vantage point, but he couldn’t look away. The more he watched, the more anxious he became. He could see Wendy leaping onto an eyebat, he could hear Fiddleford’s distinctive voice calling out commands, and Mabel and Dipper’s cheer after punching out Paci-Fire and Kryptos. He even caught a glimpse of Stan through a window when the Shacktron came near enough to the hole in the Fearamid. But as things went on, his fear was mixed with pride. They were holding their own! Better than holding their own, they were winning! Soon enough all of Bill’s minions were sprawled across the ground, groaning in pain.

“SERIOUSLY GUYS? YOU HAD LIKE ONE JOB!” Bill groaned.

“Bravo, everyone!” Ford cheered defiantly.

Bill sneered at him. “YEAH, ENJOY YOUR LITTLE VICTORY NOW, WISE-GUY. YOU DO REALIZE I’M GONNA GO GRAB YOUR LITTLE FAMILY AND MAKE YOU WATCH ME TORTURE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM UNTIL YOU TELL ME HOW TO REVERSE THE WEIRDNESS MAGNETISM, RIGHT?”

Ford’s heart fell. “No, no you ca--” Bill re-froze him mid-sentence.

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU, SIXER? I CAN DO ANYTHING!”

He didn’t know how long it had been when he was unfrozen. All he knew was suddenly half the town was there, freed from their stony prison, and Bill was still outside fighting the Shacktron. Mabel and Dipper were standing in front of him with identical hopeful grins.

“Kids!” Ford knelt down and hugged them both tightly, “I knew you could do it! That was brilliant!” He caught sight of McGucket just off to the side, apparently trying not to interrupt a family moment. “Fiddleford! Thank you, old friend, I know they couldn't have done it without you.”

“Aw shucks, I'm jus’ glad yer ok.” McGucket smiled as the two old scientists hugged.

“Yeah, nice to see you too, bro.” Stan grunted from behind them.

“Grunkle Ford,” Dipper piped up, “before, you said something about one other possible way to beat Bill. What was it?”

“Yeah, what's Bill's secret weakness?” Mabel asked.

“Oh, right!” The old researcher remembered, and reached for something in his pocket. But be paused mid-motion, looking around the room. “Back when I first learned about Bill, there was a prophecy painted on the cave wall as well.” Ford observed all the people standing around him, and suddenly the puzzle that had eluded him for years finally clicked into place. “Robbie, do you still carry spray paint around with you?”

“Uh… yeah. Why?” the teen asked.

“You'll see.” Ford assured him, grabbing the paint canister and quickly spraying a large circle on the floor.

“Uh, Bill's just outside, I don't know how long the others can hold him off.” Dippy pointed out.

“Yes, yes, good.” Ford murmured in reply, concentrating too hard on whatever he was painting on the floor to really pay attention to what the boy was saying.

“Well, he's finally lost it.” Stan said flatly.

“Like he didn't lose it forever ago?” Wendy asked.

“I'm perfectly sane.” Ford corrected. “And this is how we'll beat him.” He gestured to the finished image: a circle of ten symbols surrounding a simple sketch of Bill Cipher.

“With the world's most confusing game of hopscotch?” Pacifica asked incredulously.

“No… although it would make a pretty fun game of hopscotch.” Ford admitted. “This is what I found painted on the cave wall. Some of the symbols I recognized then, some of them I only recognize now, but the very first people to settle in Gravity Falls, long before any European immigrants, prophesied that these symbols together could generate a force powerful enough to defeat Bill and reverse his weirdnesses. Until now, I thought it was just superstition, but now that I see the ten symbols here in real life, I know that can't be a coincidence.”

“What do you mean?” Dipper asked, “You had this drawn in the Journals and it didn't do anything. Bill still destroyed them!”

Ford smiled and shook his head. “The symbols themselves aren't what's special. They represent people! Dipper: the pine tree. Mabel: the shooting star.”

Dipper's eyes widened as he stood on the corresponding symbol.

“Oh my gosh!” Mabel gasped reverently as she took her place.

“A question mark! This one's unsolvable!” Soos observed, completely forgetting the coin block on the Mario shirt he was wearing.

“And I knew I'd seen that broken heart on your hoodie somewhere before!” Ford said to Robbie.

“Dang man, you've been wearing that thing since the fourth grade!” Wendy pushed her friend forward.

“Whoa, destiny hoodie!” The teen said in awe.

“As well as the star from the Tent-o-Telepathy.” Ford pointed to Gideon, who was standing at the back of the crowd.

“Oooh, don't mind if I do!” The boy took his spot next to Mabel.

“Don't make a big deal about this.” Mabel warned him.

“O-of course not!” Gideon flushed, then chanted under his breath, “Be a person worthy of loving, be a person worthy of loving…”

“And Pacifica: the llama.” Ford pointed to her.

“... This is freaky.” The spoiled girl muttered as she looked between the sweater Mabel had lent her and the symbol on the floor.

“Ok, so some of the symbols are really obvious. But what about the ice? Or the glasses?” Dipper asked.

“They're not all litteral.” Ford explained, “The ice should be someone who's cool under pressure.” The two of them looked over at Wendy. They couldn't think of anyone else in the crowd who fit the criteria, and come to think of it, hadn't Dipped spilt bag after bag of ice around Wendy all summer?

“And the glasses should be someone wise and scholarly.”

McGucket smiled sheepishly and stepped forward. “I dunno 'bout wise…”

“And Stanley, you're the fish.. thing. Whatever that thing on the end of your staff is.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” Stan rolled his eyes. “You realize this is a buncha hogwash, right? You really think a bunch of randos standin’ in a circle an’ singin’ kumbaya is gonna stop that monster!?”

“It's a mystical human energy circuit!” Ford defended.

“You said you thought it was superstition until you saw all these people together!” Stan retorted. “This isn't what you were talkin’ about before, is it?”

“...No.” Ford admitted, “But that doesn't matter now, this will work!”

“How do you know? Just 'cuz some dead guys drew it on a wall!?”

“Come on Stan! I gave your idea with the quantum destabilizer a chance, the least you can do is give this a shot!” Ford yelled indignantly.

“Don't yell at me!” Stan yelled back.

“Come on!” Wendy groaned.

“Dang it, old men, now's not the time!” Gideon exclaimed.

“Alright, fine!” Stan relented and joined the circle. “I'm not the enemy here, people!”

“Everyone else get out of here, this may be dangerous…. Now all of you hold hands!” Ford commanded.

“Oh gee, I'd love to.” Stan said sarcastically, “Except there's the little problem of I haven't got one!”

Ford gritted his teeth. “You know what I meant! Just give me your arm… stump… whatever you call it.”

“I wouldn't have it if you hadn't abandoned me, you big jerk!” Stan turned on him.

“Really!? Now of all times you bring that up!? Why do you always have to make everything more difficult than it has to be!? Why can't you ever just do as you're told!?”

“What makes you think you can tell me what to do!?”

The elder twins’ argument just devolved into fistfighting from there. Everyone watched in slack-jawed horror. Everyone except Mabel and Dipper, that is, who were desperately trying to pull their Grunkle apart. But it was too late.

“OH NO, IT'S BILL! ...THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE ALL THINKING, RIGHT?”

Bill was back.

“HAHAHAHAH! THIS IS JUST TOO GOOD! DON'T YOU BRAINIACS KNOW THE ZODIAC DOESN'T WORK IF ALL OF YOU DON'T HOLD HANDS? THANKS FOR BRINGING EVERY THREAT TO MY POWER INTO ONE EASY-TO-DESTROY PLACE THOUGH!” the demonic triangle snapped his fingers and the painting on the ground burned away, catching a few people on fire in the process. He then reached out and grabbed the elder Pines twins. “YOU GUYS WANNA SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU CAN'T GET ALONG?”

“Oh no!” Dipper cried.

“You give them back!” McGucket demanded.

“You've gone too far, Cipher!” Gideon shouted.

“Yeah, we're not scared of you!” Wendy growled, raising her ax threateningly.

“OH… BUT YOU SHOULD BE.” the triangle grew another arm and snapped his finger. Dipper and Mabel watched in horror as everyone around them floated up into the air and was turned into a tapestry, each one depicting its victim in the middle of a wide-eyed scream. “LOOKS LIKE IT'S TOO LATE FOR YOUR FRIENDS, STANFORD, BUT YOU CAN STILL SAVE YOUR FAMILY!” A glowing blue cage rose up out of the ground, trapping the kids. “LAST CHANCE: TELL ME HOW TO TAKE WEIRDMAGEDDON GLOBAL AND I'LL SPARE THE KIDS.”

“No, don't do it!” Dipper cried from inside the pyramidal cage.

“Yeah, Bill makes bad deals!” Mabel agreed.

Bill leered down at her. “DON'T YOU TOY WITH ME SHOOTING STAR! I SEE EVERYTH--”

Mabel grabbed Robbie's spray paint and sprayed him in his giant eye.

“AUGH! NOT AGAIN! WHY THE EYE!? EVERY TIME!”

“I know that hurts, because I've done it to myself!” Mabel crowed.

Dipper quickly pulled out the flashlight with the size-changing crystal attached to the top and grew the cage until they could squeeze between the bars.

“We'll distract him, you guys run for it!” The boy cried to his Grunkles.

“What!? That's a suicide mission!” Ford protested.

“Don't worry! We've beaten him once.” Dipper reassured them.

“And we'll do it again!” Mabel finished. “Hey, you pointy jerk, come and get us!”

Bill finally got the paint out of his eye. He growled and chased after the kids. Stan and Ford were about to run after them too, but a blue wall of contorted bars blocked their path.

“NOT SO FAST! YOU TWO STAY HERE. I'VE GOT SOME CHILDREN I NEED TO TURN INTO CORPSES.”

The brothers found themselves in a cage identical to the one the kids had just been in. Only they had no means of escape. All they could do was bang on the bars and yell after them to stop. But their pleas fell on deaf ears.

“I can't believe this!” Stan sunk to the ground. “The kids are gonna die, and it's all my fault! All because I wouldn't just link arms with you!”

“Don't blame yourself. I'm the one who made a deal with Bill on the first place.” Ford said sadly.

“Yeah, but I'm the one who got you captured.” Stan lamented, “Dipper went back an’ tried to help you, but I… I just ran. Ugh, dad was right about me, I'm a screw-up.”

“No.” Ford knelt down next to his brother. “That's not true. You never made a deal with Bill, not in all those years he tried to convince you. If anybody's a screw-up, it's me. If I didn't drive away everyone close to me, things would have been solved years ago. I'm sorry I always made you second priority.”

Stan barked a sound halfway between a chuckle and a sob. “How'd things get so messed up between us?”

“We used to be like Dipper and Mabel.” Ford smiled fondly. “The world's about to end, and they still work together.”

“They're working together because the world is ending. That and they're too young to know any better.” Stan observed.

Ford shifted and pulled a strange object out of his pocket. It took a second for Stan to recognize it as the memory eraser from his first day back home.

“What're you gonna do with that?” The old con man asked.

“This is the one last possibility to defeat Bill I was talking about before.” Ford said gravely.

Stan's face lit up as he began to realize his brother's plan. “You mean we could just erase him outta your head the second he goes in there!?”

“Yes… but there's more to it than that.”

Stan didn't like the look Ford was giving him. He looked like a doctor about to tell their patient they had cancer. “Ok, what's the catch?”

“Bill isn't a static memory. He won't just let himself be erased, he'll hide in some remote corner of the mindscape. Unless you were to erase everything.”

Stan's expression sobered immediately. That explained why Ford had been so desperate to try anything else to stop Bill.

“What!? Are you kidding me!? You're honestly telling me there's nothing else we can do?”

“Believe me, if there was another way, I'd do it in a second. We're out of options, Stanley! The only alternative would be to actually give myself up to Bill and hope he'll let you and the kids go.”

Stan snorted. “Like he'd make good on that deal.”

“Exactly.” Ford agreed. “So, we agree on what needs to be done?”

Stan's reply was to wrap his arms around his brother and bury his face into his shoulder. “You and your snarfin hero complex! D’Arvit Ford, I don't wanna lose you again!”

“... Neither do I.” Ford returned the hug. “Don't think of it as losing me. I'll still be around. I'll still be me. I just won't…”

“Won't remember anything about me. Or anyone. Or anything.” Stan finished.

“Y-you might be able to remind me.” Ford encouraged him, “Fiddleford has been regaining his memories after they were erased.”

Stan sniffed inelegantly, failing to hide his crying, but he nodded.

They didn't have long to recompose themselves before they heard the kids’ screams, signalling Bill's return.

“ALRIGHT FORDSY, I'M BACK, AND I'VE GOT THE KIDS! MAYBE I'LL KILL ONE OF 'EM, JUST FOR THE FUN OF IT. EENY MEENY MINEY--”

“Stop!” Ford cried. “I'll tell you! Just let the kids and my brother go, please!”

“THAT'S MORE LIKE IT.” Bill said smugly.

The cage holding them dissolved away and a glowing red arm shot out of the ground, wrapping itself tight around Stan.

“No, Grunkle Ford, don't trust him!” Dipper pleaded.

“It's the only way.” Ford smiled sadly. “I-I love you all. Always remember that.”

“CUT THE SAP, SIXER. DO WE HAVE A DEAL OR NOT?”

Ford's only response was to extend his hand. Bill grabbed it, and blue flames enshrouded them both. Bill's physical form turned to stone as his mental projection jumped straight into the old scientist's head.

“FINALLY!” Bill crowed when he found himself in Stanford’s mindscape. The mental manifestation of the old man was standing there coldly. The light was reflecting off his glasses, making it impossible to see his eyes. Which didn't make sense because there wasn't actually any light. Which meant Ford was looking like that on purpose. The drama queen. “I TOLD YOU I'D FIND YOUR WEAKNESS!”

Ford did his best to ignore the mocking. He held up a book that looked just like one of the Journals. “Here it is, Bill, everything I know about weirdness magnetism.”

“AHAHAHAHAH, FINALLY!” Bill chortled, taking the book eagerly. “YES! NOW I CAN--” the book abruptly caught fire. “WHOAH- HEY!” The triangle could only watch as blue flames rapidly ate away every last page. “WHAT DID YOU--!?”

“It's gone.” Ford said evenly, a cruel grin spreading across his face. The light reflecting off his glasses disappeared, revealing a triumphant glare. “It's all gone!”

“YOU IDIOT, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE!?” Bill steamed, “I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS!!”

“On the contrary, Bill,” The scientist said calmly as the entire mindscape around them went up in blue flames, “You're the one who's finally going to pay.”

Bill's eye grew wide as he realized the extent of what was happening.

“GRAH! THE DEAL’S OFF!” He growled, but as he tried to wave his arm and create an exit, nothing happened. If anything the flames rose higher. “WHAT THE-- NO! NO NO NO NO!

“YOU FOOL!” Bill raged, “”YOU'LL DESTROY YOUR OWN MIND TOO!”

“Gladly.” Ford said emphatically. “If it means you'll never do to another living thing what you did to me.”

“YOU'RE MAKING A MISTAKE, STANFORD!” Bill said desperately, “I-I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT! MONEY, FAME, RICHES, INFINITE POWER, YOUR OWN GALAXY! JUST--PLEASE!”

“Whatever I want?” Ford echoed fiercely. “What I want is to watch you burn to nothing!” He finally lost his cool and roughly grabbed Bill by his stupid bowtie. “You pretended to be my friend, only to use me and manipulate me!” He wound up and punched the triangle. “You got me to drive my only true friend away!” Another punch. “You took control of my body and used it as a play thing!” And another. “You blackmailed me!” And again. “You tortured me!” Another. “And even worse than what you did to me, you messed with my family!” He wound up one more time and punched Bill right in the eye, harder than he'd ever punched anything before. The demonic triangle gave one last strangled cry in a language Ford didn't recognize, and shattered into a million pieces.

“...It is done.” Stanford said with finality. But… it didn't feel right. He'd been fantasizing about defeating Bill for years now, and he'd finally done it! He was the hero! He'd killed the demon, been able to beat him down with his own hands, and yet… this victory felt hollow. Was it because he was losing his own mind in the process? No… he'd always been prepared to sacrifice himself in order to pay for his mistakes.

As everything burned blue around him, the last thing he found left was a familiar tattered photo of two boys standing proudly atop a rotting shipwreck. Ford realized he didn't regret what he was losing, but what his family would be losing. And even more, what he never was for them.

“I'm sorry.” He murmured as the flames licked at his feet.

Stanley found his brother kneeling in a clearing in the woods not long after all of Bill's Weirdmageddon crap cleared up. Ford was still completely out of it. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth hung open.

“Grunkle Ford that was amazing!” Dipper exclaimed, running up and hugging him. Ford jumped at the contact, surprised and maybe even a little uncomfortable with the boy in his personal space.

“Uh, sorry, are you talking to me?” The old man asked in confusion.

The boy's face fell as he pieced together what happened. “You… you don't remember me…”

“No. Should I?”

“Yes!” Mabel cried, “We're your family!”

Ford just looked at them all blankly.

“It's ok, kids.” Stan tried to reassure them, “W-we just gotta remind him, y’know?” he sat down in front of his brother and looked him in the eye. “I-I’m Stanley. I'm your brother.”

Ford was too fascinated with Stan's arm to pay attention to his words. “Your arm, it's metal!” He observed with an eager smile, “that's not normal, is it? What's it made of? How do you get it to move like that?”

Stan’s eyes welled up with tears. “C-c’mon, Ford, it's m-me, it's Stan… I'm remindin’ you, j-just like you told me to… please Ford, it-it’s me, it's Stan!” He finally broke down crying in to his brother's shoulder. “Why d’you always gotta be the hero!? Y-you jerk! W-we never got t-to make thing right.…”

Ford looked at the two children for help. “What did I say?”

They brought Ford back to the wrecked remains of his house, picking up Soos and filling him in on what had happened on the way. The young mechanic was devastated, and he joined with the others in trying to jog Stanford’s memory. They had many opportunities to try. It seemed every step along the way Ford had another question.

“Did you see that little man in the red hat run into the bushes? What was that?”

“It’s a gnome.” Dipper explained patiently, although there was a pained undertone in his voice, “You used to study them.”

“Why do they wear those little red hats?” Ford wondered, “Are they hiding something under them?”

“I-I don’t know.” Dipper admitted, but it didn’t seem to bother Ford. If anything he seemed more excited, and he made to run off after the gnome.

“Wait! Don’t run off without us!” Mabel grabbed his hand.

This stopped him, but only because he’d suddenly become more interested in the small hands holding his own. He looked around at everyone and an expression spread across his face like he’d just found the greatest puzzle of all time.

“Wait a second, I just noticed something!” He held up Mabel’s hand and compared it to his own. “I’ve got more fingers than all of you! Isn’t that interesting? I wonder why it’s like that?”

“You were born that way.” Stan told him.

“Yes, but why?” Ford asked again. Nobody had an answer for him, which only served to make him more curious.

Stan heaved a heavy sigh. “C’mon Ford, we gotta get home. We’re all tired, you must be too.”

“I’m not tired!” The old man insisted like he was a four-year-old, “I wanna explore!”

Stan looked like he was on the verge of losing his composure again, so Mabel stepped in. “Grunkle Ford, if you come home with us, I’ll show you my scrapbook, and we can teach you everything we learned about all the weird things in Gravity Falls this summer.

“Really?” Ford asked, like she’d just promised to watch his favorite movie with him. She nodded. “Come on, let’s go!” He pulled her ahead toward the dilapidated house.

Dipper had to knock the door in, and despite the building being surprisingly still structurally sound, the place was trashed. Ford didn’t seem to notice; he took the state of the house as normal, and only seemed curious with the books and papers strewn across the floor. Everyone else was in low spirits. For all the questions they were answering and all their attempts to remind Ford of who he was, nothing seemed to be working.

“We saved the world, but what’s the point?” Dipper wondered forlornly, “Grunkle Ford’s not himself anymore.”

“I don’t get it.” Stan sat down and held his head in his hands, “Before, he said we’d be able to remind him…. Well, he said we might be able to remind him. Ugh, I should’ve known he was just sayin’ that to make me feel better. I should’ve known better than to get my hopes up!” He punched the wall with his mechanical arm and left a sizable hole.

“No!” Mabel said emphatically, “I know my Grunkle is still in there! We can’t give up, guys!” She found her scrapbook lying under the entertainment center, and sat Ford down next to her on the old couch. “This’ll work. This has to work!” She opened up to the first page and showed him a picture of the three of them at the bus-stop, not long after they’d arrived in Gravity Falls.

“Here’s a picture of the first day we came to Gravity Falls!” Mabel narrated, “and here’s a macaroni art interpretation of my emotions!” She pointed to a macaroni collage of an unsure smile and a question mark.

“What about that time we went to the lake our first weekend here?” Dipper asked as his sister turned the page again and revealed a two-page spread of photos from their picnic. “Or all those times we’ve played Dungeons Dungeons and More Dungeons together?” He asked on another page.

“Uh, these are all very nice photos, but weren’t you going to teach my what you learned about the weird things in Gravity Falls?” Ford asked innocently.

“They’re photos of you, Dr. Pines!” Soos cried.

“I can see that, but I don’t remember any of this, or any of you!”

That was enough to break Stan down again. The old con man got up abruptly and retreated to the other side of the room.

Ford got up and followed him. “What’s wrong? Why do you keep on crying like that?”

Stan just shook his head and turned away, unable to speak through his sobbing.

“Is it because of me?” Ford asked worriedly, “Is it my fault?”

Stan shook his head again, but Ford seemed to know instinctively that he was lying. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what for, but…” He trailed off and his expression became thoughtful. “I’m sorry…” he repeated softly. He reached out and hugged Stan awkwardly.

Waddles entered the room, drawn by the sound of crying. The pig found two sad men standing in the corner, hugging. On of them was the source of the crying. The pig tried to comfort them the only way he knew how: snorting in between their feet.

“Waddles, do you mind, we’re having a moment here!” Ford pushed the pig away gently with his foot.

Everyone gasped and stared at the old researcher, a new hopeful glint in their eyes.

“W-what? What did I say?” Ford asked nervously, uncomfortable with all the attention.

“It’s working!” Dipper said excitedly, “keep reading!”

“Skip to my page!” Soos insisted, “He needs to remember being the greatest teacher ever!”

“I think you and Wendy are the only two who would ever call me that.” Ford chuckled.

And so they continued to look through Mabel’s scrapbook. Every few pages, Ford remembered more and more about being a teacher, a great-uncle, a researcher, and even a brother. Once they finished with the scrapbook, Stanley swept the house and found some ancient film-reels: Home videos from the elder twins’ childhood. Everyone couldn’t believe their luck. Perhaps this story could have a happy ending after all.

It was one week later, and Stanford Pines felt like a new man. His memories were more-or-less all back now. Sure, he still had some hazy moments when someone would mention something like he was supposed to know what they were talking about, and he’d have to ask for clarification, but the most important things were all back. He knew his family and his best friend and his students and all the strange, wonderful, occasionally annoying people in Gravity Falls.

Of course, with the return of his good memories came the return of the bad. Just last night he’d had another nightmare about Weirdmageddon. But it was easier to shake off these bad dreams now that he knew Bill was well and truly gone. He’d also had a heart-to-heart with Stanley about some of the darker moments in their past, but he felt so much better now that they had.

Now it was time for the kids’ birthday party, and pretty much the whole town, human and supernatural, had shown up. Mabel and Dipper were giving some short speeches after blowing out the candles.

“Y’know, on my first day here, if you’d asked me what I wanted, I would have said ‘Adventure, mystery, true friends’, but looking out at all of you, I realize that every one of those wishes came true. I’m happy with what I have.”

“If I had one wish, it would be to shrink you all down with the shrink-ray and bring you all home with me in my pocket. But since that’s impossible--” She paused and looked up at Ford, “Is that impossible?”

He shrugged and made a so-so gesture. It was technically possible but really not a good idea. People would probably get squashed or suffocate.

“--Since that’s probably impossible, my only wish is for all of you to sign my scrapbook! I’ll never forget you all!” She paused again, pulled out the memory eraser, and smashed it under her foot. Ford couldn’t believe how relieved that made him feel. “Now I’ll never forget you all!”

As the kids joked around with Wendy and her friends about technically being teens now, Stan pulled Ford away from the crowd around a corner of the house.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you in private.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” Ford asked in concern.

“Nothin’, just wanted to let you know I’ve made up my mind.”

“About what?”

“About leavin’ after the kids head home. I’m probably gonna start packin’ once this party business is over.”

“What!?” Ford cried incredulously,

“Yeah, see, this I why I wanted to talk to you about it in private.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“But… but I thought…” the old researcher stammered, “We’ve been making progress Stanley! I truly believed things between us were on the mend!” He sighed heavily and regained his composure, “But… if that’s what you feel is best, I won’t try and force you to stay.”

“Uh, thanks…” Stan said awkwardly.

“...where will you go?”

Stan shrugged. “Thinkin’ about gettin’ a ship, sailin’ in search of treasure.”

“Just… just like we always dreamed about. I… I’m happy for you, Stan.” Ford said, sounding the exact opposite of happy.

“Y’know…” Stan scratched the back of his head with his good arm and gestured with his mechanical one. “If I’m gonna hit the high seas, I’m gonna need someone who knows how to take care of this robot arm along for the ride. I’m still gettin’ the hang of it.”

“Y-you mean… you want me to come!?” Ford asked hopefully.

“No I mean McGucket.” Stan said flatly, rolling his eyes again. “Of course I want you to come, genius!”

Ford gaped at his brother for a moment before shoving him playfully, “You’re the worst!”

“I’m the worst!? You’re the worst for making me feel like a rakkpod for jokin’ with you! Why d’you gotta be so sincere?”

The two brothers re-entered the party, their arms around each other’s shoulder.

“If I could have everyone’s attention!” Ford shouted. “I’d like to officially announce my retirement!” He declared once the crowd had died down, “My brother and I have some catching up to do, so we’re leaving on a voyage, and probably won’t be back for quite some time.”

“Woohoo!” One of the teens cheered, “No physics class this year!”

“B-but what about the repair shop?” Soos stammered. “What about preparing young minds to be the scientists of tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry, Soos, but I only ever started teaching and running the repair shop so I would have a steady income while I was working on the portal. Now that Stan and I are together again… I don’t really have any reason to keep it up.”

Soos looked defeated.

“But school starts in two weeks and we’ll need a physics teacher!” A member of the school board complained.

Ford looked at Soos knowingly. “I think I know someone who could take my place.”

“Wh-me?” Soos asked incredulously. “I haven’t even got my degree yet!”

“You should be able to get an emergency teaching licensure.” Ford reasoned. “That’s how I got hired on full-time.”

“But-but you’ve got a doctorate.” Soos protested.

“Soos, you’re much better with people, and especially teens, than I ever was. And you know more than enough to teach high school. I think you’re the perfect man for the job.”

“We’ll see what the school district has to say about that.” The school board member called from the crowd.

A small group of friends and family gathered at the bus stop the next day in the early afternoon. Mabel and Dipper were all packed up and ready to go. Well, as ready as they’d ever be.

“Thanks for wearing my goodbye sweaters.” Mabel complimented her Grunkles. The elder twins were decked out in matching sweaters: Ford’s a deep blue, Stan’s maroon.

“Eh, it’s cold out, I had to.” Stan grunted.

“It’s over eighty degrees out here, Stanley.” Ford teased him. Stan responded by elbowing him playfully.

Dipper and Wendy said their goodbyes and switched hats just before the bus arrived, the ginger teen slipping him a letter as he walked away.

“Looks like we’ve said goodbye to everybody, except…” Mabel looked back at her pig sadly, “Waddles.” She got down on her knees and petted him sadly. “I don’t know how to explain this to you but… Mom and Dad won’t let be bring a pig home to California, so… you have to stay here!”

She got up to leave, but the pig playfully nipped at her skirt. The girl tried to push him away, tears streaming down her face.

Ford frowned. “Mabel, I think you should take him home with you.”

“But--”

“You’re parents will be surprised to find how easy a pet pig is to take care of. Pigs are actually very clean, certainly cleaner than that cat you have, and they don’t need that much space. I’m sure they’d be happy to have another pet! And if not, well, you can tell them it was my idea.”

“Are you sure?” Dipper asked warily, “Mom was pretty mad when she found out you’d offered to let us stay here without asking her first.”

“I’ll take my chances.” The old man assured them.

“Now hold on!” The bus driver protested, “Bringing unauthorized animals aboard a moving vehicle is strictly prohibited!”

Ford not so subtly pulled out his crossbow, and Stan charged up the blaster in his arm.

“Uh… but this, heh, is obviously a service animal, so it’s ok!” The driver chuckled nervously.

The kids gave one last goodbye hug to Stan, and then to Ford.

“I hope you know I’m not exaggerating when I say you two have changed my life.” The old researcher said fondly. “I… I don’t know how I could ever thank you enough…”

“We love you too, Grunkle Ford.” Mabel sniffed back a few tears.

Finally, they’d run out of ways to stall. It was time for the kids to get on that bus.

“Ready to head into the unknown?” Dipper asked.

“Nope.” Mabel said honestly. “Let’s do it anyway!”

Ford and the others ran along the road, waving goodbye until the bus rounded the corner and drove out of sight. The old researcher felt like a piece of his heart was leaving with them. It must have shown on his face, because just a second later, he felt Stan patting him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m gonna miss ‘em too.” the old con man said sincerely, “But hey, it’s not like we’re never gonna see ‘em again, right?”

Ford smiled. This pain in his heart was nothing compared to the joy of having his brother back. “You’re right.”

“Heh, somebody stop the presses.” Stan chuckled. “Now come on Sixer, we’ve got an adventure of our own to start!”

#Gravity Falls #Stanswap Au #Reverse Portal AU #Fanfiction #Take back the Falls #My Writing

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worldcakecakecake · 6 years ago

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Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth, we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule, go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45 I Chapter 46I Chapter 47 I Chapter 48 I Chapter 49 I Chapter 50 I Chapter 51 I Chapter 52 I Chapter 53 I Chapter 54 I Chapter 55 I Chapter 56 I Chapter 57 I Chapter 58

Chapter 59

As with every instrument Feliciano practiced with, the very first song he learned to play on the harp was ‘Accept to be mine’. It was a melodic stirring that filled the gardens in awe, in halt to the work of whatever servants worked there, even the Queen couldn’t focus on the reading she was giving Feliciano. She eased into it, resting upon its tune, swayed in a delicate cloud, and to be honest, Feliciano joined her in it too despite how it was being made by his own hand. In that floating state, he lost whatever rhythm and the harp answered to his mistake violently.

There was a sudden burst of light and luckily Feliciano aimed it out of danger on time, into a slight jump in the air where it then exploded into ice. Queen Louis and Feliciano were covered in a sudden blanket of snow, harshly awaking them from the intense dream state they were in. Feliciano prepared for a harsh scold, but it seemed to disappear from Louis’s thoughts when Pookie emerged from his own cover, the most surprised and startled, an adorability that Louis couldn’t help but laugh. Pookie found his cover of heat once again with Feliciano, who freed his hold on the harp to hold his little winged lion instead, cuddling him into his cheek, only intensifying his smile and laugh.

Ludwig was supposed to be as dedicated to his own readings, but he distracted with that beautiful smile that was the star of the entire view of the garden from the King’s study room. He slumped well into the glass, hoping to reach him that very moment.

“Ludwig!” Aldrich had called again, loudly, starling the other from his love-struck stupefaction. “Boy, listen to me, we’re reading important clauses concerning animal abuse laws,” he scolded.

“I-I’m sorry, Opa.” He forced his eyes back on the reading.

“What were you staring at anyways?” The king stood himself to check and when he noticed the young arising queen playing with his St. Mark, leaving his own harp practicing and readings with his wife, he smirked in understanding.

“Ah, your heart and land,” Aldrich chuckled, easily earning a flush from Ludwig. “How have things been with him lately?” He wondered, not minding this break from their teachings, putting the book down and getting ready for a chat.

“To be honest, we have been too busy with our practices to really do much. Our times together are at dinner or in our bedroom, which I don’t think are enough.”

“Enough for what?” Ludwig’s answer was interrupted by Kiku’s entrance, in his arms scrolls and books, surely with questions and duties.

“Aldrich,” he bowed, “I have the writings concerning internal dark magic processing.”

“In a minute, Kiku, Ludwig here is dealing with emotional issues.”

“Uuu!” And Kiku sat as if this was a theater play to watch.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“We are not, we just want to help.”

“You can start by giving me ideas this instant,” Ludwig groaned.

“You did say there is an issue with time.”

“You could always try to take lessons and practices with him, or for both of you to finish as soon as possible or organize them for other times,” Kiku suggested.

“Your relationship is important to the kingdom as well and I will set aside what I can,” Aldrich already promised.

“Good, now there’s the issue of what to do with that time.”

Aldrich and Kiku remained in silence as they thought, meeting in a gaze as if to judge if their ideas would be enough.

“Well, your grandmother and I did the very traditional. Strolls through the gardens, private dinners in our room, the typical…flower and chocolate gifting.”

“I’m sorry, your majesty, but that is all too dull. I don’t think it will be the ideal for Ludwig and Feliciano, after all this is another generation we’re speaking about,” Kiku added.

“Um…singing,” still Aldrich awkwardly suggested, which earned raised eyebrows, surely denying.

“No, something more them, something that will have them sparking, something…” Kiku snapped his fingers as if trying to fetch the idea to come. He caught a small portrait of Ludwig as a child, and with it he was reminded. “Feliciano told me you made a lot of promises you didn’t keep.”

It was not something Ludwig wanted to be reminded of, but he sighed in embarrassed disappointment.

“Then fulfill them!”

“We were kids when we made them. We were naïve, we didn’t know anything.”

“What does that matter! It was something you both wanted in the past. I’m sure some of them can be something you can enjoy now. It will be a sweet token that you will both appreciate! It will mean that you’re trying and that you want a deeper relationship to grow! Now, think of one!”

It was immediate to Ludwig, who stood as the idea began to grow in his head. “I got it.”

It was a long climb up, stairs after stairs that Ludwig went up ready and confidently, while Feliciano had to stop every level to take deep breaths and internally cry every time he looked up to the still missing heights to take.

“I hope-I hope…you’re showing me a room full of gold!” Feliciano concocted as they must have reached the highest point in the castle, no other stairs, only a single hall with a long window at the end that showed the heights they took. There was a single door to a single room, whatever Ludwig wanted to show him there.

Feliciano practically let himself faint once he reached, almost hugging the floor in relief. Ludwig chuckled, helping him up and presenting him before the room. “You remember when we were kids… that I told you I would give you a painting room…with the best light and everything you would need.”

“I honestly thought you had forgotten,” Feliciano had to sadden.

“I might have acted harsh, Feliciano, but I never forgot.” Ludwig took a better grasp of both his hands, exciting them both the more. Ludwig couldn’t hold it any longer and pushed open the doors, lighting the entire hall in a brightening as if the very sun was caught in this room. Feliciano was momentarily blinded, letting the gold die down until he could notice that the reason for all this light was the coverage of long and wide windows across the circularity of this room. The marbled floor and the pillars that surrounded helped to make more of that bounce, some curtains of red from the walls present for if lessening was wanted. Oh, but Feliciano loved this light, he entered with an opening of arms, letting it embrace him wonderfully. When it had been enough, he finally noticed the items that loitered around the room. Easels, canvases, fabrics, cloths, paint, so many jars of paint in different boxes, some in different shelves, an array of colors that Feliciano hadn’t even tried before.

“What…what is this?” Feliciano wondered, spinning and only meeting more items that were the ideal for any artist.

“Royal painting room. Been used by several of our monarchs for centuries, has been so because of this.” Ludwig ushered Feliciano forward to the edge of the windows, Feliciano’s eyes widened at the immensity of the city shown, its forest of vicinity, the hills that surrounded, even the far sea that separated them from the Scandinavian area of the kingdom.

“This is the highest point in the castle!” After that climb, it was only obvious to Feliciano. “Yes, everything you want to see in your reach, non-ending inspiration and the best light in all the castle, and all yours.” He moved to place his hands on his shoulders, turning Feliciano once again to the area of work, already an infinity of things to do that fell instantly on Feliciano’s mind.

“Re-really?” He was kind of hesitant to reach any of the items, but the temptation was so clear.

“Yes! So take it, start! I know you want to.” Ludwig pushed him slowly and although Feliciano remained in his standing, frozen for seconds on, he interrupted it with a loud laugh, an excited jump, but not before turning, taking Ludwig in an embrace and kiss of potency, passion, as brightening as the sun that reigned in the room.

When they departed, dazed and flying, Feliciano whispered in a seductive tone: “Thank you.”

Ludwig didn’t know words anymore, his entire being was still flying in the magic that is always Feliciano’s kisses. He answered in silence and whispered stutters. Feliciano chuckled and removed himself to quickly pick from one of the many canvases, to put on an easel in a good center, plotting his ideas as he used his hands to picture how he could organize and set what he was still thinking. Ludwig picked a stool and settled it close to him, content enough in taking a simple seating.

Feliciano looked to him as if he had committed a crime. “Oh no, you’re sitting right next to me, Luddy!” Feliciano stood to force him into his closeness, Ludwig rolling his eyes but accepting.

Feliciano picked the softest and most fitting brushes that adjusted well to his hold, the prettiest jar of colors, some cloths for effects and he didn’t mind with getting something to cover his clothes. Who cared if he got them spotted with fine colors, he already wanted to stroke and paint and he wasn’t going to have anymore interruptions.

“How about… a nice snowy day in Berlin,” Feliciano imagined, raising a brush into the air as if to declare it. “What do you think?”

“You’re the one whose painting. You decide whatever you wish.”

“What do you mean I’m the only one whose painting?” And that’s when Ludwig was reminded of how exactly that promise had gone long ago.

Feliciano smirked, surely ready to impose.

“No,” Ludwig already decided.

“Come on, how many times do we have to go through this?”

“Until I have convinced you enough that I am terrible.”

“You aren’t!”

“Seems I still have work to do…”

“Just… like we used to, just like we did when were in the Oralee.” The reminder of that sweetened moment, one of the first in their opening, gave a weakening, a smile, one that had Ludwig docile enough for Feliciano to pull his arm, forcing both to a unity of that brush hold.

Ludwig sighed and settled once again to Feliciano’s wishes, both starting a baby blue stroke in a beginning. The comfort gave him quite a confidence for something grandiose even with his mediocre skills. Feliciano was there, smiling up at him, sure to love whatever they created together. And so, they stayed and gave themselves all the time they wanted in a room of color, inspiration and strengthening love.

“Und frische Nahrung, neues Blut Saug ich aus freier Welt: Wie ist Natur so hold und gut, Die mich am Busen hält!!” Ludwig read as warm, as the embrace that Feliciano needed with the coming near cold.

“Die Welle wieget unsern Kahn Im Rudertakt hinauf, Und Berge, wolkig himmelan, Begegnen unserm Lauf.” Ludwig had a sitting in one of the near chairs, deciding on a standing and joining Feliciano, who was seated on the floor, right in front of a window, a new large sketchbook in his hand that he was using dark pastels on to recreate the rain that was currently falling.

“Aug, mein Aug, was sinkst du nieder? Goldne Träume, kommt ihr wieder? Weg, du Traum! so gold du bist: Hier auch Lieb und Leben ist.“ He sat close, in a clear touch, a hand holding him behind him.

Feliciano suddenly stopped in his drawing, instead smiling up to Ludwig at the words that he found so lovely even though he couldn’t understand it completely.

“You sound so wonderful in German,” Feliciano said dreamily.

Ludwig smirked, continuing. “Auf der Welle blinken, Tausend schwebende Sterne, Weiche Nebel trinken, Rings die türmende Ferne.“ Now Ludwig laid his head upon Feliciano’s as he read on, as Feliciano sketched, both somehow managing to do their activities through the blush, the high activity of love streaming through their bodies that did well to heat the room.

“Morgenwind umflügelt, Die beschattete Bucht, Und im See bespiegelt, Sich die reifende Frucht..“

“Feliciano, Ludwig, there is need of opinions for the-” Queen Louis’s voice could be hidden well out of the wall that was built to keep the moment fresh and lovely to themselves.

The Queen watched with adoring eyes at the scene, too beautiful to just depart, to miss such growth, such a reminder of a past that she thought would never repeat.

“Your majesty, the power con-”

“Shh, look at this,” she interrupted the messenger sent, pointing to the two figures sitting beside each other so warmly.

The messenger, even with the weigh of many duties, breathed and awed. “It’s nice to see them be so lovely together,” she admitted.

“Yes, yes, so much,” Louis agreed, finding more treasure in the caress Ludwig gave Feliciano’s hips. “There is more yet!” She assured, confident and loud even if she had only whispered the words to the other. “Come now, is this about the power containments?” She already moved aside, attentive once again, leaving the messenger behind, who almost tumbled as she turned and took her pace.

“And that’s…200 cookies!” Feliciano gave that last count, closing the oven with the last addition.

“Great!” And still Ludwig was mixing something else.

Feliciano giggled as he rested his head on his hands, a cute lean on the counter, staring with the ever-growing fire of love in his eyes. “Aren’t 200 cookies enough?” He joked.

The others that were already done sat in piles of decorated plates to the side. Feliciano, since he had helped in the majority of the day with the baking, thought there wouldn’t be a problem if he reached for one. It was stopped by a hit of Ludwig’s spoon.

“Hey!” Feliciano pained, rubbing the forming red in his hand.

“They’re for later. A little bit of patience, liebling.” Oh, how Feliciano was adoring being called that. It almost made the sting go away completely.

“I thought of making some cinnamon rolls just for us. You still like them?”

“I’ve never stopped,” Feliciano laughed.

“This won’t let me make 200, but it can make us a couple,” Ludwig smiled, the dough ready to be formed.

“I’m sure I’m going to love them!”

That moment, a visitor came, luckily his robes familiar, Kiku taking a seating by one of the many stools. “I must say, Ludwig, I’m really glad you took this baking hobby,” he admitted, loving the smell, or just how happily and calm his arising king and queen turned each day, a new forming of all kinds of activities that did more than just the duties they had kept to before their journey.

“He’s improved like you have no idea,” Feliciano cheekily added.

“The last time you had something I baked, we were ten. How was I supposed to properly do this as a kid?” Ludwig excused.

“I’m glad you practiced through the years.”

“I completely stopped after Romulus’s letter.” Ludwig placed the bowl on the counter, dreading the memory, yet feeling its depressing grasped all over again.

“It’s going to be fine. We’re training, preparing and I’m sure we’ll take Khaos when the times comes. But, let’s focus on what we’re doing now.” Feliciano took Ludwig’s hand in assurance and they smiled to each other confident, indeed just settling in the light and smells of this kitchen.

In that distraction, Kiku neared his hand to one of the piles, thinking he could sneak in a cookie. He was stopped by another hit of Ludwig’s spoon.

There was a mess of planning, scheduling and notes in Feliciano’s desk, and the aid of a playing baby that said arising queen was helping to the growing of this disruption wasn’t ideal to the current queen.

“Feliciano, are you sure you should have Augustino here?”

To be honest, Louis hadn’t been able to concentrate with the baby’s babbling, cries and Feliciano’s coos. How he had managed to work throughout the holding of his nephew was quite a feat.

“I promised Lovino and Antonio to take care of him while they trained. I want to be a present and loving uncle. I want to be with him whenever possible,” he tried to convince, placing a quick kiss on the baby’s head while the other hand wrote on some documents on the desk.

It was quite adoring to see Feliciano deal so well with children while working well at the same time. It assured her of a proper father for a future heir, as well as someone who could keep well to his queenly duties despite so.

“If you want, I can go to another room,” Feliciano suggested.

“No, no. Just make sure to calm him, all right?”

Feliciano nodded and they both could focus on these preparations.

“Are we going with the ground ballroom?” Feliciano asked.

“Do you think it’s the best idea?” Queen Louis had learned after the first ball experience to trust Feliciano with his choices.

“I believe so. Every royal from every kingdom will be coming, and I’m also thinking of inviting many others, so we will have plenty of people from different kingdoms. Because of the space and access, I think it would be best.” He signed the document officiating it, decided.

“What about rooming? Will you take those guests into the castle too?”

“We have the space and I’ve already spoken to the servants about availability and cleaning.” He even made a drawing and raised it to show the proof of his word. She smiled in deep pride.

A clear beautiful night in the kingdom, and Ludwig and Feliciano didn’t waste it, rested well together in a comfortable couch they placed in the balcony. They took all its corner in a ball of themselves, Feliciano dressed in that very comfortable free robe Francis had giving him when they were in Paris.

With Ludwig, his own free pants and shirt, glasses of wine in their hands, pure bliss in their expressions, it was the scene of royalty and riches that anybody expected for the arising king and queen. Closed were their eyes, every breeze another caress to get them to sleep just like this, out in the open as held together they had lately slept in their bed.

“Hey,” Ludwig tried to awaken as sweetly as he could, raising Feliciano more into a proper sitting.

“Luddy…I was almost falling asleep,” Feliciano groaned, having to rub away whatever had caught him. “I know, I’m sorry, but…I was meaning to suggest something we could do this weekend.” He noticed that they had some time of freedom, one deserving after what they had gone through in the week, their instructors feeling that they needed rest and calmed minds before they continued with another wave of harsh responsibilities.

“Hmm…mud bathing,” Feliciano relaxed at not only the soothing of it, but of the fun and play that can come.

“Feliciano…no.”

“Then what…tell me already.” He was still sleepy and wanted to crash as soon as Ludwig omitted this plan.

“There’s an island, north of the German province, reaching well into the Scandinavian provinces, called Norderney. It’s not exactly the beaches we saw in the Oralee, or the Grecian islands or even the ones from Italy. But it’s still a great place to swim with peculiar things that are worth seeing. My family has a cabin there and I really don’t think they would mind us taking it for the time.”

With the swaying Feliciano maintained, eyes fluttering constantly in temptation to sleep, Ludwig had worried he hadn’t even listened.

“That sounds wonderful, Luddy. But-” he yawned and stretched, then wrapping his arms well around Ludwig’s torso- “why do you want to go?”

Ludwig sighed, “I made a promise to take you everywhere, didn’t I?”

Feliciano smiled and blushed so adorably. “Didn’t we kind of do that for the last couple of months?” He chuckled.

“We did, but it was mostly because we had a duty to fulfill. I want to do something more fun and just…for us,” Ludwig wanted to coax.

Feliciano cuddled more into his chest, smiling deep, imagining the awe that will surely lay in this trip. “Will we go tomorrow?”

It was sudden, and Ludwig wondered if Feliciano just said it in a dreamy haze. Yet…it was possible and even better.

“Yes.” It was decided.

“My Tino, Tino, Gustino, Augustino.”

“Stop singing João’s stupid ass song!” Lovino scolded, holding out his arm to have his son back. Feliciano gave him, but not before leaving him a long kiss on the top of his head.

His little nephew was already a month old, more adorable each day, growing, smiley and energetic.

“Aw, I’ll miss him so much!”

“Feliciano…we’re only leaving for three days.”

“Still!” He slammed his hands on the side of his thighs.

Ludwig grinned, “come on, let’s get going.”

Ludwig took Feliciano’s hand and lead him forward down the castle entrance steps, to an awaiting carriage at the bottom, only but simple bags over their shoulders.

“Don’t get too frisky!” Lovino called from his spot.

Ludwig froze, and Feliciano rolled his eyes, “we won’t!”

Just as they arrived before the carriage, about ready to take their entrance, Pookie huffed angrily on Feliciano’s shoulder.

“Pookie, what is it?” Feliciano wondered. His little St. Mark had never reacted this way when getting on a carriage.

Cocky, with a prideful shake, fly, and walk to the pavement, he took a stance and let the growing magic run over him. The light he was engulfed in grew and grew, until the large beast was before them again, wings expanded, prepared, ready, but Ludwig and Feliciano didn’t understand for what, remaining in their stand confused.

“Uh…what does he want?” Ludwig asked.

Pookie seemed impatient, ready to growl out his distaste. He shook his bottom, laid even more on the ground, and pointed with his wings to his back, then expanding them even more.

“I think he wants us to…get on him,” Feliciano understood. He gave some steps closer, the idea one that settled well on his head, wanting to take those wings and let them fly off with the wind as any creature of the sky.

Ludwig could see his interest, but he was still suspicious, remaining still by the carriage. “What? No. That is highly dangerous!” He tried to bring sense to both the animal and his arising queen, but neither gave head.

“But…he really wants us to,” Feliciano pointed.

“You really want to!”

“Yes! Come on! Let’s try it out.” It seemed Feliciano was already decided, coming near and trying to find a way in which he could mount without causing too much weigh on Pookie. Ludwig still stood by the carriage, looking to the horses as if expecting them to help him convince these two.

Feliciano was now well placed, excited, smiling already at what this kind of traveling would be. He could imagine himself riding exactly like Augusta did in her depictions, into battle or whatever unknown sunsets in the horizon. Ludwig still stood apart not wanting any of that.

“Luddyyyyy,” Feliciano whined.

“We’re not flying!”

“This is Pookie! He wouldn’t let anything happen to us! Besides, it’s new and it would be really fun! Come on, let’s try it out!” Feliciano continued to persuade, with a deep wish in his eyes that Ludwig was slowly falling weak to.

He gave up, although huffing, with arms angrily wrapped on his chest, his nearing steps as loud and mad. He gave a quick signal for some of the near servants to save the carriage and horses, taking sitting on the winged lion behind Feliciano. It took him a while to really get comfortable, Pookie so annoyed Feliciano feared he would knock out Ludwig on purpose.

“If anything happens…we’re taking horses back,” Ludwig warned.

“Yes! And don’t worry, everything will be all right!” He smiled back to him. “Now, hold on to me.” Feliciano could feel Pookie going through his preparation to fly off at the instant the wind took him.

“I think I’m good like this.”

“Are you?” Feliciano really wanted him to think, but it was already too late. Pookie’s wings were spread and he blasted off into the heights, in a moment having them even higher than the castle. Both had panicked, Feliciano holding tightly to the fur and having to lay his face in it, the rush of the wind hitting badly. Ludwig, after an unceremoniously shout, realized he had no other holding than Feliciano, wrapping his arms rather strongly around him, leaving Feliciano breathless as Pookie adjusted well into the air.

After a fearsome spin, a leaning and then another rush of altitude, Pookie finally found his settling, now calm, a smooth direction to north on an outing of the city. At this point, the breeze became calm, the ride peaceful, Ludwig and Feliciano could dispatch themselves from whatever hiding and actually look appropriately around them.

What a beautiful glow of the setting sun, the spread of colors of their capital city, of red mountains, bountiful villages, shinning rivers and lakes, all in a radius of freedom and reaches that made them more ruling than any powerful throne they could be given. There was a running of emotion as if they could feel every life moving below them, the horizons showing a liberation of places to explore and never reach limits. It brought ease and content to the riders, falling in ease, no fear blinding them any longer from the majesty of it all. Pookie seemed to grin and raise his head in pride…but with a shake of his mane that gave an awakening slap to Feliciano, he reminded that there was still a place to reach.

“Oh, yeah,” Feliciano remembered, bringing his hands back to the hold of the mane as a wheel to their flight. Feliciano tested it out, Pookie obediently following whatever direction he decided to move him toward to.

“Where to?” Feliciano asked Ludwig. He was the one that knew well the direction to Norderney and they very much depended on him for that.

Ludwig took a better look at their surroundings, to the routes that looked diminutive and the landmarks but specks below. “West through Grunewald,” he could identify, and they could begin.

Feliciano nodded as did Pookie, and the lion turned to fly over the familiar forest. Onward for the first time on the back of a St. Mark.

Lovino had watched it all from the comfort of the castle, not being able to hide how impressed he was by the spectacle of watching his brother fly off on Pookie like in ancient stories. Augustino was just as wondered, his eyes following their dot even as it disappeared in the distance.

“I hope your uncle doesn’t teach you to be that crazy.”

#Feliciano and the King of Hearts #fatkoh #f&tkoh #gerita #gerita fanfiction #gerita fanfic #gerita fic

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leanstooneside · 3 years ago

Text

Tearing something or someone apart

1. FRIEND OF MY WIFEAS THERE IS A PHOTOGRAPH

2. SPRINGTIME IS SWEET AND

3. AGE OF 27 ITS HOME MAIL IS STILL OPENED

4. ASANAZARRO AALONE OUT OF ALL THE COURT WAS FAITHFUL TO HIMA FOR THE GOSSIP OF NAPLESA TROUBLE DRIFTS TO NORTH FRACASTOR LIGHTNING WAS MIDWIFE COTTA AND SER DAALVIANO AL POCO GIORNO ED AL GRAN CERCHIO DAOMBRA TALK THE TALKS OUT WITH NAVIGHERO BURNER OF YEARLY MARTIALS THE SLAVELET IS MOURNED IN VAIN AND

5. I ONLY AND WHO ELRISCHE PAIN SUPPORT KNOW OUT LOVEAS HEART OAERBORNE BY OVERLOVE FOR MY DESIRE THAT IS SO FIRM AND STRAIGHT AND

6. GIOKU ATHIS WIND SIRE IS THE KINGAS

7. THERE IS O IDIOT

8. WIND IS WIND OF THE PALACE

9. COW KEEP HER CALF.A ATHIS WIND IS HELD IN GAUZE

10. IT IS NOBLE TO DIE OF LOVE AND HONOURABLE TO REMAIN UNCUCKOLDED

11. SHE HAS ABANDONED THE VICAR FOR HE WAS LACKING IN VEHEMENCE SHE IS NOW

12. SHAKING IMPERIAL WATER JETS.A AND RAN TI OPENING HIS COLLAR ATHIS WIND ROARS IN THE EARTHAS BAG IT LAYS THE WATER WITH RUSHES ANO WIND IS THE KINGAS

13. ASI TUIT LI DOL EL PLOR EL MARRIMEN DEL MON WERE SET TOGETHER THEY WOULD SEEM BUT LIGHT AGAINST THE DEATH OF THE YOUNG ENGLISH KING HARRY THE YOUNG IS DEAD AND ALL MEN

14. WIND IS THE KINGAS?A

15. AAND THE CLOAK FLOATEDA SLANDER IS UP BETIMES

16. FAUNAS FLESH IS NOT TO US

17. ATURN NOT VENUS INTO A BLINDED MOTION EYES ARE THE GUIDES OF LOVE PARIS TOOK HELEN NAKED COMING FROM THE BED OF MENELAUS ENDYMIONAS NAKED BODY BRIGHT BAIT FOR DIANAA SUCH AT LEAST IS THE STORY

18. VARRO SANG JASONAS EXPEDITION VARRO OF HIS GREAT PASSION LEUCADIA THERE IS SONG

19. WORLD RUN RACK AND GO DARK WITH CLOUD LIGHT IS WHERE

20. HEART IN THE DISH.A AAIT IS CABESTANAS

21. CURTAINS....A ANO WIND IS THE KINGAS....A

22. AYOU SHOULD NOT BELIEVE HOSTILE TONGUES ABEAUTY IS SLANDERAS

23. HUSBAND WILL NOT DIVORCE HER HER MIND IS AS EVER UNCULTIVATED AND

24. SHE WONAT HAVE ME NOW DEATH IS MY

25. AHE WHO IS NOW

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blouisparadise · 7 years ago

Photo

Here’s a part two to our rec list with bottom Louis/top Harry fics told from Harry’s point of view. You can find part one here. Enjoy!

1) Precious Little Diamond (I’ll Give It All To You) | Explicit | 2044 words

Alpha!Harry/omega!Louis PWP written for this textpost: Established relationship H/L with alpha!Harry just popping his knot in omega!Louis and it’s his favourite part; just laying down and cuddling as they mate but Louis just wriggles around in his lap until he can grab his xbox controller and starts playing video games with Harry still inside him and Harry’s like “??!?????!???!!!???” And Louis’ like “oh shush it takes forever” and scores a goal on the game.

2) If It Hurts To Breathe, Open The Window | Explicit | 4406 words

Louis looks wonderful himself, in a muscle shirt reading The Stone Roses and showing off all his own ink. His jeans are tighter than Harry’s, and there are dark circles under his eyes and his hair is tatty and wild, and there’s a sex bruise on the bend of his elbow Harry didn’t give to him.

3) It’s Your Soul That I’m Caught In Yet You Don’t Hear Me Call Your Name | Explicit | 4433 words

The one in which Harry goes out for a run in the early morning rain without telling Louis and Louis wakes up alone, cold and needy.

4) Like You Hate Me | Explicit | 6541 words

“You have poor taste for someone with the last name Styles,” he says, turning to show the back of his pants to Harry—the pants Harry had just stitched his name across last night to keep this type of thing from happening again.

Of course, he’s accomplished nothing but indirectly making himself pop a stiffy over Louis fucking Tomlinson.

5) I’m Broken, Do You Hear Me? | Explicit | 6957 words

Louis starts acting weird and distant around Harry, and it takes Harry a little while to put together what’s wrong. When he finally does, he’s determined to help Louis see just how much he loves every piece of him.

6) Glimpse Of The Silhouettes | Explicit | 7181 words

Harry isn’t sure what the rules are for this. It’s hard to believe that there are any, that’s there’s a handbook just waiting for him to buy: why is my best mate getting hard in my lap when I touch his arse?

7) A Virgin To That Money | Explicit | 7366 words

AU. Harry and Louis are broke university students who hate each other and make a sex tape. (In which Louis gets fucked a lot, Harry can’t find the camera, and the road to falling in love is different for everyone.)

8) Bite the Bullet, Feel the Rush | Explicit | 7750 words

Louis is still behind him, insistently teetering from one foot to another, breathing against his neck in short, warm puffs and he feels so nice and sleep warm, smells so good, like the laundry detergent they use, like the Acqua di Gio he wears, like the coconut shower gel he probably steals from Harry, because Harry’s sure it’s his own and he’s even more certain that Louis doesn’t have his own bottle of the same thing, and Harry feels pure want tugging somewhere behind his ribcage, inside his tummy and it’s horribly unfair, he thinks.

9) Raised on Rhythm and Blues | Explicit | 8034 words

Note: Mentions of BH.

“That look on your face makes me think you’re not cooking me spaghetti fast enough,” Louis announces as he walks back into the kitchen. Harry knows exactly where Zoe gets her habits from.

“Cooking for my two beautiful and insanely intelligent children, not for the weird bloke that sleeps in my bed and eats all my food,” Harry answers, tilting his head and wondering if he should add more sauce.

10) Love To Make Him Moan | Explicit | 8106 words

They fuck like they’re sex starved, when they’re really, really not.

11) Put You On Repeat, Play You Everywhere I Go | Explicit | 8290 words

Harry is a college radio show host and Louis is a contemporary dancer attending said college. After a drunk hook-up, naturally a whole bunch of pining, dedicated love songs and make-out sessions on dance studio floors ensue.

12) Maid In The A.M. | Explicit | 9118 words

“You’re not supposed to be here.” The lad frowned at him.

“Sorry,” Harry said automatically. Which, wait. No, that wasn’t right. “Um, actually, I sort of live here?”

Okay, that came out less firm than Harry would like, but it was still true.

The guy rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

Harry had absolutely no idea what was happening.

13) We Wreak Havoc With Our Hearts | Explicit | 9417 words

Harry finds that he can’t keep things separate; neither can Louis.

14) Got It Right Such A Long Time Ago | Explicit | 9699 words

Four months into One Direction’s hiatus, Louis comes to stay with Harry after a bad breakup.

15) 3B Neighbor | Explicit | 10407 words

A mysterious neighbour keeps slipping the worst sort of notes under Harry’s door.

16) Just Like The Wolf Before He Bites | Explicit | 11096 words

He’s loud, Louis is, and that’s far from unusual for him, but the volume of it still has Harry pulling back the curtain. There’s a half-formed thought in the back of his brain about telling Louis off, because it’s fucking half three in the morning, but then.

But then Harry’s eyes get stuck on the soft glint of Louis’ stubble in the light, and he’s making his way across the room before he even realizes it.

Louis, for his part, just tips his chin up to give Harry space and keeps talking, waving the joint in his hand around for emphasis. He doesn’t even bother to greet Harry, going on with his story to his semi-rapt audience, just settles a hand in between Harry’s shoulder blades and pushes him down firmly.

Harry just. Relaxes. His eyes slip closed, pushing his entire face into that spot underneath Louis’ chin, where his hair is still growing, neat and prickly. The scent of Louis’ cologne drifts into Harry’s nose, light and fresh, and it’s calming. Comforting. His breathing syncs up with Louis’ quickly, and Harry feels so much better than he had five minutes ago he almost wants to cry.

17) As Deep As The Sky | Explicit | 12265 words

A passed-out omega on the bathroom floor isn’t exactly what Harry had in mind when he thought about taking a cute boy home. The idea of leaving Louis there, vulnerable and unresponsive, weighs guiltily at Harry’s conscience. Turns out it’s the best decision he’ll ever make.

18) Put It On Me | Explicit | 14890 words

Harry’s bachelor party doesn’t go as planned.

19) Temporary Tattoos, Hotel Hearts, Horizon Homes | Explicit | 17965 words

Louis is just 18 and ends up in 2015 for one day at Harry’s request, one day to make sure his spirit is strong and hopeful enough to take him to the X Factor and end him up where he’s supposed to be. Aka, the one where Harry makes sure Louis knows how amazing he is.

20) Light In Darkness Come Through | Explicit | 20012 words

Note: This fic is Harry’s perspective of this fic (which is told from Louis’ perspective), so you may want to read that one first.

There’s two parts to it, really. The first part is Louis being an omega and lying about that for years. The second, much more complicated part, is that Harry knew that Louis was lying about something for years, even though he didn’t know what it was.

Louis being an omega is an idea that crosses Harry’s mind more than a few times over the years. He’s pretty sure that he’s not the only person who’s ever had the thought, but he’s confident in saying that he’s the only one who wasn’t thinking it because Louis is tiny.

21) You Could Have Moonlight in Your Hands | Explicit | 20501 words

It’s the usual work for Harry—with awestruck fans crowding his space, cellphone cameras in his face, and rude paparazzi loitering around in front of the building to take his pictures, his day is turning into a not-so-brilliant one. And then a beautiful man falls into his life. Literally.

22) Love Like Wildfire | Explicit | 21774 words

Louis was an Omega and a Prefect. Harry was an Alpha and a little rascal. They were mates, drawn to each other since they first met in the Hogwarts Express. They worked well like that, or at least they tried, which only made their relationship way more interesting.

23) All The Lights are Full Of Colour | Explicit | 26727 words

So, fast-forwarding eight years from the day Harry met Louis, he is now a twenty-seven year old owner of one of the most up-and-coming eating establishments on the London restaurant scene, father of two wonderful boys and… separated from his husband. Now, that last part definitely was never a part of the original plan.

24) Blind From This Sweet, Sweet Craving | Explicit | 31170 words

“So, I guess we’ll go?” Louis asks later, when Harry has calmed down and eaten his weight in Chinese food. He plays with this chopsticks, spearing another piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind. We could make it an adventure.”

Harry observes him, watches him seated across from him on their old living room carpet, with a container of food on his lap. He’s fidgeting, avoiding meeting Harry’s gaze–he probably knows that Harry’s mad at him for ruining the one chance they had to get out of this situation. And he’s not wrong, Harry is definitely very mad. Harry wants to strangle him and castrate him and smack him upside the head.

But he’s also Harry’s best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he’d still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He’s got Harry’s back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they’ll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. “We’re going,” he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

25) Like A Timebomb Ticking | Explicit | 31743 words

Louis loses everything. Harry’s still there.

26) The List | Mature | 32094 words

‘In the weeks that follow, Harry opens his old journal more than he has in the past two years each time he remembers Venice or thinks about Louis. He always flips to the same random page in the middle of the book, marked by the picture of himself that Louis sent him a few days after they got home. There’s a message on the back that says, ‘Spontaneous looks good on you! See you soon,’ and it makes Harry’s chest warm each time he reads it. He wedges their list out from between the worn pages, and it feels silly staring down at a folded up piece of paper with a strange sense of nostalgia for experiences they’ve yet to have; for places they’ve never even been.’

27) What This World Is About | Explicit | 34472 words

An eighties American high school AU; there are first times, football games, and feelings.

Alternatively titled: the beginning.

28) Promise You’ll Remember That You’re Mine | Explicit | 34654 words

What he doesn’t expect is to see Louis in their bathroom wearing panties. Not even like standard panties, they’re fucking black and sheer so Harry can see Louis’ full arse and there’s even lace trimming the edges. He nearly has a heart attack.

Harry’s face probably looks like a bright red tomato, and if not then the only other option would be that all his blood is going to his dick, because Louis looks like a fucking wet dream.

“Oh, you’re back.” Louis looks as nonchalant as ever, when Harry is over here freaking the fuck out.

29) A Red-Dusted Planet | Explicit | 38256 words

A one-night stand in a small town in Australia turns into a weekend that Harry could’ve never predicted with a boy he may never forget.

30) Bluebird | Explicit | 39046 words

The 2,789 miles between New York and Los Angeles is a long way to go alone.

31) A Rhythm In Rush | Explicit | 40010 words

Harry is a WWF journalist with big dreams and Louis is a glaciologist that flies helicopters for fun. Greenland is an odd place to spend Christmas, but just maybe, the perfect place to fall headfirst into love.

32) Just A Feeling | Explicit | 43977 words

Note: This is a sequel to this fic (which is told from Louis’ perspective), so you may want to read that first.

The first time that Harry thinks about marriage in relation to Louis, he’s eighteen years old, standing in the middle of a crowded frat house, six drinks down and another in his hand.

It’s not the first time that he’s laid eyes on Louis. It’s not even the second time, or the third time, but Harry doesn’t believe in denying what his brain is trying to tell him, and his brain has been telling him that Louis might be the prettiest person in the world ever since that first fateful meeting, when Harry hadn’t been able to stop looking and Louis had ‘accidentally’ spilled his tea all over Harry’s lap in retaliation.

33) The Fairy Ring | Explicit | 46170 words

A medieval fantasy AU in which Harry is a prince in disguise and Louis is the king of the faeries.

34) All We Do Is Drive | Explicit | 46564 words

It doesn’t make sense, the way Louis can have such an effect on him. From one look, or one stupid bet, Harry’s now street racing, apparently. He hates it. Doesn’t know how to control it, every time he sees Louis looking at him - it comes like an impulse. Without a second thought. No rhyme or real reason to it. He’s just Louis.

35) So Much We Didn’t Say | Explicit | 53584 words

Harry’s near fatal accident exposed the cracks in his and Louis’ eleven year marriage. A serious error in judgement by Louis shattered it completely.

36) Like Real People Do | Explicit | 64175 words

Louis didn’t ask for a lot of things. He didn’t ask for his entire family to die in a car crash that may or may not have been his fault. He didn’t ask to get powers out of that accident, either, powers that eventually led him into a two-year relationship with a man who was far more than met the eye. But one night, he chose to ask for a replacement to a broken camera from someone he hadn’t spoken to in a year and a half. He did ask for that. And that kind of led to everything else.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#blp #blp fic recs #fic recs #bottom louis #top harry

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jae-bummer · 7 years ago

Text

My Idol: Part Twenty Eight

My Idol From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Wednesday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in specific missions to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what three idols will move on to the second date.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29

Day 1:

You let out a soft groan as you leaned over, reaching for your cell phone on the bedside table. You shifted awake as your hand pawed through the open air, your nightstand not present where you initially expected it to be. You opened your eyes slowly and began to blink your heavy lids. You were suddenly launched into a pleasant reminder that you had not gone to sleep in your apartment, but in a poolside gazebo, next to your first My Idol date...

“Jay?” you whispered, easing up from the mattress and running a hand through your tangled hair. The pillow barrier you had created last night, much to Jay’s chagrin, was still perfectly placed in the middle of the mattress. You looked up, completely confused as your eyes scanned the infinity pool before the gazebo. The sheer curtains and mosquito nets had been pulled to the side at some point, allowing the morning light to trickle across the wood floor and onto the bed. There was no Jay anywhere.

“Jay?” you called out again, jumping as you saw the large form of Armpit looming behind the bed, his camera directed toward you. You instinctively pulled at your blanket, covering up your bare shoulders and wrapping it around the tank top you had worn to bed. You gnawed on your lip and lifted your brows. “Where is he?”

Armpit shrugged as he panned the camera around the room, showing no visible sign of your date. You slid across the sheets and let your feet hit the floor. Panic gripped your chest as you analyzed every small nook and cranny of the gazebo for any sign of Jay. As you left a fleeting glance at the space underneath the bed, a crippling thought began to fester in your mind...

Did he leave?

You plopped back down into the bed and tried not to let your emotions completely take over. Had Jay said those things last night to simply keep you quiet until he could sneak away as you slept? You thought you had both landed on the same page after your argument, a new and refreshing point of view presented to you both. You didn’t think he was the type of coward to leave without saying goodbye...but was it possibly that saying goodbye would hurt him too much? Was he afraid that saying goodbye would hurt you too much? Was he just really good at bullshitting and lured you into a false sense of security?

“Jay...” you whispered, almost as a fleeting whimper. Your heart felt like it was weighed down by stone as it plummeted to your toes.

Just to spring back up again.

“Ay! Yo! Baby girl! I got breakfast to float!”

You shivered in your bed, spinning around as you heard Jay’s voice call from the opposite end of the pool. It wasn’t long before you were on your feet and struggling over to the other side of your outdoor suite. Your eyes eased as they finally caught sight of Jay’s tanned and tattooed skin, half submerged in the water.

“Jay!” you nearly screeched, dropping the blanket from around your shoulders as you instinctively stepped onto the first step into the pool. You quickly realized that you were still in your pajamas as Jay looked up at you, an odd expression on his face.

“Uh...did I wake you up?” he chuckled, smacking the side of the deck he was floating near as a signal for you to sit down. You laughed and shook your head as you plopped onto the wood and stuck your feet into the pool.

“I woke myself up,” you sighed, shivering a bit as your feet hit the water. “I didn’t see you and I-”

“You thought I left, huh?” he asked, cocking a brow.

You stopped talking and pursed your lips, suddenly feeling foolish as he said the words aloud.

“Damn,” he clucked, turning to set his damp hands on your knees. “Did you think last night was a hallucination? I told you I wanted to stay. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t just say shit to hear myself talk.”

You nodded slowly and crossed your arms. You knew what you had done was irrational and felt bad now that Jay knew what you had been thinking. He chewed on his lip as he searched your face. Eventually, a kind smile found his mouth and he halted his chewing. “I really like you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, knowing you shouldn’t confirm your feelings on television.

“Imma pretend like you said ‘I like you so much Jay Park,’“ he giggled, changing the pitch of his voice to be significantly higher as he spoke your made-up response. “’Jay Park, you so smart, and strong, and Imma just say you won right now cause you did. You won, Jay Park. You go, Jay Park!’“

You nearly fell into the pool as you laughed, splashing a bit of water at him as he shimmied his shoulders. “Why do I feel like that’s how you talk to yourself when you look in the mirror?”

“Because maybe everyone needs a little positive affirmation every now and again in their life, Y/N,” he smiled. “Damn, think I don’t need to be sweet talked cause I’m a man or some shit.”

“Oh Jay,” you hummed, your voice monotone. “So big and so strong.”

“That’s more like it,” he nodded. “Now come eat breakfast with me.”

You looked across the pool and to the breakfast tray Jay had sent floating in the water.

“Does that require a bathing suit?” you asked, lifting your brows.

“Of course it does. Why do you think I chose a beach side location for our weekend date? Cause I wanted to see you in a turtle neck?” he grinned.

“How are we supposed to eat in the pool?” you sighed. “We’re supposed to eat thirty minutes before-”

“If you get a cramp, I’ll save you,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Until you get a cramp and we both drown because we know neither camera man is saving us!” you gasped playfully.

Jay peered over to Armpit. “Nah, me and home boy have made strides. We’re like brothers now.”

You heard Armpit snort behind you, causing your smile to grow even wider.

“There you have it,” Jay laughed. “Suit up!”

You leaned your back into Jay’s chest and yawned lazily, finding yourself nearly incapable of keeping your eyes open for much longer. Although you felt like you and Jay hadn’t physically accomplished much during your day, you looked back upon it fondly. During your in-pool breakfast, he had let you know that the day was meant for relaxation and healing, informing you that the exciting events would occur on the following day, and technically your last day together. He wanted to purely enjoy you on your first day. That meant a lot of lounging on the beach, in the pool, or at the snack bar. After all, Koh Kood was called an “untouched” island for a reason, so there wasn’t a terrible amount of things to do, other than escape. The minutes were filled with conversation and jokes, a smile rarely leaving either of your faces. It was as if the argument you had the previous night had never occurred and you had simply left off where you had during your last date.

With Jay, it was effortless.

But the same could be said with Jooheon.

You felt guilty as you struggled with sleep. Your head rested firmly against Jay’s collarbone, but all you could think of was Jooheon. It was the first time you had thought of him today, which also made you feel guilty. The entire experience was incredibly overwhelming and you weren’t sure how to divide your time mentally. You knew you should be focused on Jay, but felt it unfair to not at least let your mind wander in the direction of your other possibility. You wondered what he was doing? If he was nervously waiting for this episode to air to see what he was up against? If he was busy at work preparing an album or even planning your own weekend getaway?

Jay’s hands tightened around your waist as he leaned to sit more comfortably behind you. This was the longest period of time the two of you had been silent in the entirety of knowing each other.

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered, hoping to have Jay’s thoughts occupy yours for a bit.

“You,” he hummed. “And if aliens are real.”

You turned around and landed a light smack on his arm, causing him to chuckle.

“Aigoo, kidding!” he gasped. “I was actually only thinking about if aliens were real or not.”

“You are the worst,” you pouted, turning back around and crossing your arms. Jay laughed as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“I am the best,” he argued.

“Says you,” you grumbled.

“Agree with me,” he whined, snaking his arms tighter around you. “Baby giiiiirl.”

You didn’t want to readily admit it, but your insides melted at his tone. You winced as you let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. You’re okay.”

“Of course I am,” he nodded. “Now let me get my princess to bed. We have to wake up bright and early tomorrow.”

In general, “bright” and “early” were not two words you kept in your vocabulary when being used in the same sentence as “wake up.” Granted, you would wake up early for work, but you were never necessarily bright about it.

“Mmm, I can live without being called princess,” you whispered with a wink as you slid forward on the couch you had both been lounging on.

“You’re right,” Jay hummed. He stood as well and pulled your hand into his. “Time to get my queen to bed.”

You rolled your eyes as you shuffled forward, anxious for your tired body to hit the comfortable mattress you had slept in the previous night. You guessed you had been called worse things.

Day 2:

The second morning of your weekend date went much smoother than the first. You were mildly horrified upon waking to notice that the pillow barrier you had so painfully built had been destroyed by Jay as soon as you actually fell asleep. He had you pulled close to him, his face rested against your shoulder. His breathing was slow and calm near your ear. After only a few moments, you quickly found yourself at ease in his arms and content with the situation.

So maybe you could break your own rules.

After both of you had finally stirred awake, Jay had informed you that he had a big day of events planned. Of course he couldn’t possibly let you know what the plan included, but that was what he loved, the element of surprise.

Or at least that’s what he claimed to get you into the My Idol SUV.

After a short drive across the island, it wasn’t long until the vehicle pulled up along an overgrown area of jungle, void of any civilization. You looked over warily to Jay and lifted a brow, silently questioning what he was dragging you into.

“Keep giving me that look and your face is gunna get stuck like that,” he hummed, pushing open the door and sliding out. He landed with a crunch onto the dirt road and lifted his hand, prepared to help you out if necessary.

“Where the hell did you bring me?” you whispered, tripping over your own feet almost as soon as you exited the vehicle. You felt uncomfortable with speaking loudly. This part of the land was so quiet and vacant, you felt you would be disrespectful to speak in a normal tone.

“Damn, why can’t you just trust?” he hummed, pulling his hand from yours. “You think I’m gunna kill you in the middle of the jungle?”

“Accidents happen,” you muttered. You looked up at him and gave him a wink, hoping the small action would cause the wrinkles to disappear from between his brows.

“Just so we’re on the same page,” he nodded. “I didn’t go onto a reality television show to commit homicide.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as the two of you began to navigate a small trail between the trees and plant life around you. You clung tight to Jay’s arm, breathing a sigh of relief as the path opened up into a much more clearly marked passageway.

After about a ten minute walk, mostly involving your silent curses toward Jay, you suddenly began to hear a sound similar to thunder erupt in the clearing ahead. You had begun to slow your steps as Jay had eased into a quicker pace. He was eager to bring you to whatever environmental wonder he had discovered, but the sounds emanating from the end of the path weren’t necessarily inviting.

“Come on,” he grinned. “Only a little further.”

“Jay, what is that noise?” you snapped, furrowing your brows as you allowed him to tug you along. “It doesn’t sound...”

Your words were completely swept from your mouth as you finally broke free of the tree line and could see clearly before you. The intimidating noise you could only compare to a thunderstorm, was in all actuality, a stunning waterfall.

“Jay,” you gasped. His name was the only word that could possibly leave your lips. It was breathtaking. For being in an area so quiet, you were amazed that something so lively could dwell in the heart of silence.

“Told you you should trust me,” he grinned.

You waded into the water, still in mild shock that you were actually standing in a lagoon directly feeding from a waterfall. You felt as if you should pinch yourself awake from the strange alternate reality you were currently living. You were on a date, in Thailand, with Jay Park, who had taken you to a waterfall.

It was as if you had fallen asleep and woken up within your favorite fan fiction.

You looked back to Jay who had just yanked off his shirt and began to step into the water as well. He moved slowly into the clear pool, the grin on his face never fading.

“Ya! Jagi!” he shouted, his smile a thousand watts. “What do you think?”

You stood in shock for a moment, taken aback by the Korean pet name only reserved for a very specific kind of relationship. Surely he hadn’t meant it, but had merely fallen victim to a slip of tongue.

“It’s gorgeous,” you nodded, attempting to reset your expression.

“Not nearly as gorgeous as another natural beauty I know,” he chuckled. His volume was much lower as he grew closer and his arms reached out for you.

You nodded as you reached out as well, taking his fingers into yours and tugging him in closely.

“You know, this is the last time I’m going to see you before the finale,” Jay cooed, his breath hot on your ear. The last time he had spoken to you this closely was upon your arrival to the island and under much different circumstances.

“You’re right,” you hummed, leaning away from him to look solidly into his eyes. For the first time you weren’t overcome by the heated flame of passion that was Jay Park, but the quiet flicker of perseverance and hope. He had become different during this process. You weren’t sure when it had happened, but you felt like you trusted this Jay more than the wild and abrasive personality you had first met. “Jay...can we talk?”

“Not a question I normally like to hear phrased that way,” he grumbled, leaning away from you as well, but keeping his hand placed on your hip. “But yeah. What’s up?”

“Sorry,” you muttered, looking down with an embarrassed smile. “I didn’t mean to sound ominous.”

“Ominous is not getting directly to the point baby girl,” he nodded with an encouraging smile. “You know you can ask me anything.”

“Well...” you hummed. “I’m just curious. Why My Idol?”

Jay nodded for a moment, his eyes slipping from yours as he thought. “That’s a big question.”

“Then I’ll expect a big answer,” you whispered. Your eyes shook back and forth between Jay’s, hoping to see his full face as he thought, but he refused to look anywhere but at you.

“I joined My Idol...” he said slowly. “To be honest, I joined My Idol because all my boys at aomg thought it was whack. They thought it was stupid and produced, and wasn’t real. I thought maybe it would be some good airtime and I could come out of it with a funny story. I wasn’t expecting...this.”

“This?” you asked gently. Jay looked back up to your face and nodded.

“I wasn’t expecting for you to be here,” he said. After a moment of silence he let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, so I didn’t mean for that to sound hella creepy, but here we are.”

“Maybe if you explained a bit more,” you prodded, giving him an encouraging nod.

“I didn’t expect someone real,” he said quickly, his thoughts finally gathering. “I expected to show up and see some model or some actress. I thought I’d be obnoxious and go on a well written date and come out as the “villain.” I thought I’d be an editing nightmare, but a ratings dream. I wasn’t expecting for My Idol to cast a real girl. Someone looking for love...as it became clear what you were here for...my intentions changed. Suddenly finding love sounded a lot better if you were involved.”

“You were everything I didn’t know I wanted,” he continued. “I’m used to girls swarming. Literally girls have lined up in clubs to get a crack at-”

“Ew, gross,” you interrupted. “Please don’t continue-”

“My point is,” Jay sighed. “You didn’t want me until you decided you wanted me. I know this wasn’t part of your question, but after you showed that you were here for me...after you showed you wanted to give me a chance, I have never been so about someone in my whole life.”

You nodded happily to yourself, interlacing your hand in his. “Really?”

“Would I be standing here if I was a liar?” he grinned.

“But what about the future?” you continued. You bit your lip as you thought about it. There were very few times you had actually allowed your thought process to venture past the finale of My Idol. It had always been a scary place that you didn’t dare let your dreams dwell, but it was quickly becoming part of your reality.

“What about it?” he asked. “I’m not what you would call your typical celebrity. I’m not an idol. I’m a CEO of a label, I’m a musician, but I control my own life. If I want to make time for someone, I do. And damn, do I want to make time for you, Y/N. This doesn’t end with the show baby girl. I can’t turn off my feelings once I’ve caught them.”

“And you’ve caught them?” you whispered, your breathing suddenly uneasy.

“I’ve got them bad,” he chuckled. He tilted his head as he looked at you. “But the real question is...do you?”

69 notes · View notes

theairportau · 8 years ago

Text

the airport AU, part 117 by rjdaae and hopsjollyhigh

Previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100 101, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10 111, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

---

ERIK

Once the plans are settled, Erik wastes no time in turning the water to near-full heat and stepping in, entire body heaving with a massive sigh. While taking a shower is one of the only times he doesn’t seem to ever feel cold- he scalds himself with the water, and it feels almost like burning off a layer of his skin. His back first, and then the water thrumming on the back of his aching head. It stings as it runs in rivulets down his face, but the heat and the steam are so powerful, so effective at removing all the mess of the past couple days. He loses track of time standing there, letting the water hit the back of his neck with his eyes closed and arms hanging limply at his sides. He swears that he could fall asleep standing there, and that is what ultimately spurs him to get on with washing himself- he really could. If there’s anywhere he doesn’t want to have someone assist him, it’s his shower, and he isn’t fond of water when he doesn’t have a hand on the spout. He isn’t sure how long it’s been by the time he steps out of the shower in a cloud of steam and wraps himself in his towel, but what little sky he can see through the blinds is totally dark, no trace of daytime left. It’s getting dark earlier and earlier, these days.

The shower and fresh clothes manage to do at least a little bit for his mood. He retrieves his medication and some antibiotic ointment from a drawer beside the sink, drinks from the faucet to swallow his pill, and rubs the ointment into the infected wound without checking a mirror. It’s good enough. He just doesn’t have the energy tonight to look at himself.

Standing in the doorway back to his bedroom, the first thing he finds himself looking at is the book where he had pressed Christine’s letter earlier on. A wave of nauseous guilt comes over him; he hadn’t told her that afternoon- he opens the book and examines the extent of the damages, but some of that guilt settles as he looks the note over. There are a few runs in the ink, but everything is still legible. All of her painstaking work is still there- it’s a little bit damaged, but still there.

He doesn’t even check the time when he goes into the living room to get his laptop; it’s irrelevant. He’ll need all of the time he can get to manage a proper night’s sleep, and he’s more than tired enough to try. He sets his laptop on his desk chair in his room, at right about the level of his head, and turns it onto some mindless cooking competition show that he can try to watch as he falls asleep. And upon second thought, he reaches inside the book on his desk and retrieves Christine’s letter. He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the words without really reading them, tracing the letters with the tips of his fingers. He hardly recognizes the softness inside him when he looks over those words again, all of her gratitude and kindness- and she’d worked so hard, writing it all in a language that she hardly knows, just for his ease of reading it. It takes him a long few moments to set it down on his bedside table, and one hand lingers on it for a moment before he wraps himself in blankets and unpauses the show on his laptop, hoping that some level of distraction will pull him out of himself, just a little bit. His eyes fade closed after only a few moments, and the sound grows more and more distant and dreamlike, and his jaw clenches of its own accord, as if his body predicts moreso than his mind the fitful throes of another long and punishing night.

---

CHRISTINE

When Christine’s eyes open the next morning, it is with an immediate sigh of disappointment—her hope for a change in the weather dashed by the murky darkness outside the window.

Fortunately, after a few more minutes of half-sleep and a drowsy glance at her phone’s clock, she realises that the sun simply hasn’t *risen yet*.

With nowhere to be for a few hours yet, and sleep still draped like a warm, muffling blanket around her mind, there seems no harm in giving the daylight a chance to catch up. The cotton pillowcase crinkles softly against her ear as she settles into a sleepy vigil, her eyes flickering closed again even as she tries to focus them on the window.

A little while later, wakening to find the first pink rays of dawn shimmering through the curtains, she smiles at the clear sign of what will surely be a bright day.

---

ERIK

What settles in isn’t the slow and creeping dread of typical nightmares. It strikes far more quickly, leaving Erik stunned and, even more than that, paralyzed. He can’t remember the dreams; one after another, they come on, they tear him from his sleep, and they vanish again, leaving him with a lingering sense of panic that leaves him lying frozen in bed, drenched in a cold sweat, but taking away every concrete image that he can place the fear on. He stares into the darkness of his room, past the glow of the laptop screen. Absolutely empty. When did he come to despise being alone so much?

Has he always hated it this much?

He manages to unfurl his trembling hands and reaches for the phone plugged in on his nightstand. In his state, half-awake and scarcely able to catch his breath for the fear still settled in his chest, he sends a message to Khan.

Come over.

Naturally, he doesn’t expect the man to show up at two o’clock in the morning, bearing a shoulder bag full of books and his laptop only a few minutes after receiving the text. But Erik has never failed to underestimate Khan.

In his hazy half-sleep his eyes are only half-lidded as he stares at Khan, who stands by the edge of the bed, frowning down at him.

“I meant tomorrow,” Erik mumbles, blinking wearily and wrapping the cocoon of blankets tighter around his shoulders.

Khan shrugs. “I was awake anyway.” It’s impossible to see much of Erik, other than his oddly glowing eyes, catching the light of the open laptop. It makes it difficult to read him, and the gravelly tone of his voice doesn’t help with interpretation. “Do you want me to leave?”

Erik sighs, head settling down on his pillow again. “It’s late. Stay. You should sleep.”

Khan regards Erik for a few long moments. He has settled his head back into the pillows, and his breaths are already longer- even in the middle of their short conversation, he is losing his battle to stay awake. He drifts off, and rather than going to the guest room, Khan sits at Erik’s desk, pulls his laptop out of its bag, and settles in for a long few hours. Just through the rest of the night- it’s better in the day, sometimes. He can wake up, at least, and see the normal room around him. For the night, Khan will keep a quiet vigil; he does not wake Erik- when he hears the too-familiar murmurs of a beginning nightmare, he waits for it to pass. It is not severe enough to wake him for- and when it is severe, he wakes himself, and all Khan can do is talk to him quietly. Ask him questions about the videos streaming on his laptop. Anything commonplace to take his mind out of where it is. They pass long hours in an exhausting pattern, but eventually, something seems to give- an hour passes in silence, and then another, and though Khan is still on his toes, and utterly fatigued, he believes that Erik might finally be able to sleep. A glance around the curtains shows a gradual lightening of the sky; dawn is just beginning, though the sun hasn’t quite broken the horizon yet. In these quiet hours, before the rest of the world wakes, he manages to fall asleep, somewhat at peace, and Khan draws the curtain just a little bit, just enough to let the smallest amount of light come in, before he makes his way down to the guest room.

---

CHRISTINE

The rising sun finally draws Christine out of bed; she has an appointment to keep.

Ten o'clock, Erik had said. She stretches; glances at the clock on her phone, then at the hotel’s sparse breakfast menu; wonders absently, as her fingers comb apart the strands of her braid, whether she should be waiting for a message, or if Darius will be expecting her to just meet him as arranged.

She dresses quickly while waiting for room service, and once her pastry and tea have arrived she carries them over to the bright window, dragging the desk chair behind her; after so many gloomy days, her mouth waters as much for the sunlight as for the simple breakfast. Outside, others seem to have had the same thought: further along the street, she notices figures moving behind the railings of balconies that she has so often seen vacant; squinting, she thinks she can even see a mug being raised, a fork moving across the plate of another person likewise enjoying their breakfast in the rare sunshine, even despite the late autumn chill.

Probably Erik’s balcony is playing host to its own collection of hungry, bewhiskered patrons; Christine smiles over a sip of her tea, imagining the cats curling up in the sun after cleaning their bowls.

(At the same time, she dares to hope that Basile and the others might instead have to be patient this morning—that *Erik* might be the one yet curled up in a warm slumber; free of the shadows of his mind, if not those of his cloistered house.)

By the time she brushes the last crumbs from her fingertips, there’s still been no word from Darius, nor sight of him in the street below. Setting her plate aside, Christine picks up her phone, shifting it between her hands. It *is* still a bit early, and the apartment is only a few minutes away; he might even still be asleep. She sets her phone on the windowsill, deciding to wait, and watch—and enjoy the sun—a few minutes longer.

---

KHAN, DARIUS

Khan does not go directly to sleep; down the street, he knows that Darius is just waking up, doing the same thing as he is. Erik talks about salah as if it is an inconvenience, which is irritating to Khan, for whom it is indisputably one of the best parts of his day. The quiet reverence of performing wudu, and a few moments to focus on nothing but his devotion. There is a sense of community in it- knowing that all over Paris, people who share the same experiences with him are doing the same thing. It is only after Fajr has passed that Khan crawls into bed, feeling significantly more at peace than he had beforehand. There is always the creeping concern for Erik in the back of his mind, but at this point, he has done all that he can. His presence in the room would only risk waking him up, which is the last thing he wants to do at the moment. He does, however, keep the doors to both rooms open. Better to hear if anything happens. He shuts his eyes and it hardly takes any time at all for him to fall asleep, tired as he is from staying up all night.

Darius wakes for the second time later on, having gone back to sleep after Fajr. He had been getting ready for bed when Khan left the house, and knows better than to look for him; instead, he lounges around in his bedroom, enjoying the day off. The freedom of having a manager is new to him. It is odd to hear the sounds of the restaurant preparing for service down below, and smell the food without being in the kitchen- but it’s a good thing, he tells himself. It has been his goal the whole time, to have enough success that he can back away just a little bit, enough to enjoy time to himself.

And he is excited to go out with Christine. Showing someone around the city for the first time is bound to be fun, and she has been such good company so far. He buttons on a powder blue shirt, takes a pastry from the kitchen, and leaves around 9:30, taking his favorite leather jacket with him- he’ll be a few minutes early to the hotel, but he doesn’t mind sitting if he needs to. When he gets there, the lobby is a bit crowded with people checking out, so he goes immediately to the sitting area off to the side and sends a text to Christine.

Good morning, I just got to the lobby! Don’t rush, I’m early!

He is, in fact, only early by a few minutes, but he doesn’t know how long Christine takes to get ready. He leans back in his chair and opens up a games on his phone, perfectly content to sit and wait.

---

CHRISTINE

Christine jumps at the sudden chime of her phone, pulling her gaze away from an older couple walking a small, fluffy dog down the opposite side of the street; she’s even more surprised when she reads that Darius has *already arrived*. But even if she *should* be disappointed in herself for not having spotted him, all she can manage to feel at that moment is excitement for the day ahead.

‘I’ll be right down!’ she quickly texts back, dropping her phone on the bed as she scrambles to tidy up her room service dishes.

She decides to leave her coat behind for the day: it would only be a matter of time before the heavy wool became uncomfortable beneath the bright sun, and she doesn’t want to be stuck lugging it all over the city. She can only hope that, in such fair weather, the thick weave of her sweater dress will be warm enough.

The gamble is one that she shouldn’t *have* to take: she *brought* more to Paris with her than just a heavy winter coat. But where is her cardigan now? Still back at Erik’s? Certainly it isn’t *here*, where it could actually be of *use* to her. And she doesn’t even want to *think* about what happened to her *jacket*.

The chance to buy some more clothes today won’t come a moment too soon.

The thought makes her pause, her hand on the door handle.

She thinks of the money in her purse, the money that Erik had given her for her new clothes (among other things).

Is it really *safe* to carry so much with her?

But is it safe to *leave* it, either?

After a moment of flurried consideration—her mind echoing with Mama’s warnings about big cities and purse-snatchers—she digs the thick wad of folded cash from the bottom of her purse. Peeling off an extra note to add to the one already in her wallet, she stuffs the remainder first into a sock and then into the depths of the dirty laundry in her backpack. The maids have so far left her clothing undisturbed; any who came in *now* would probably just be relieved to see the scattered mess finally *contained*.

Feeling better—and pausing to make doubly sure that the door is locked—she hastens downstairs to meet Darius.

---

DARIUS

The line at the front desk dwindles as Darius sits there, absently swiping away tiles on his screen. An employee eventually comes over and asks if he needs anything, but he only smiles and lets them know that he’s waiting for someone. They seem content to let him sit there as long as he likes, and after just a few minutes, he glances up from the screen in time to see her headed down the stairs in the main lobby.

“Christine!” he calls cheerfully, stuffing his phone back in his pocket and standing up, opening his arms wide as he greets her. They haven’t even known each other long, but it feels like some time since he last saw her. Certainly, a lot has happened- that must be it; the sheer volume of things that have changed in the couple of days that he has gone without spending time with her.

He strides across the lobby to meet her with a warm hug. “It’s a beautiful day, we’re lucky- probably one of the last nice ones before winter really sets in. I can’t wait to show you around, really- we can’t cover it all in one day, obviously, but, well. It’s been a long time since I’ve gone out like this.” He grins at her with genuine excitement, a stark contrast to Erik’s rare and measured smiles. It has been a long time, though. Running a business and looking after Khan- though Khan would resent the phrase looking after- leaves him with little time to talk to anyone his age. As far as friends go, he usually stays in with either Khan or Erik, and neither of them have any desire to explore the city. Though their reasons vary greatly, the result is the same- Darius never really goes anywhere, with the recent exception of his date with Rachelle. And even that had stayed close to their street. Having Christine around has been so pleasant, and he wants her to enjoy the day as much as he’s already certain that he will.

“Have you had a good morning?” he asks, calming himself a bit from his initial joyful rush at her (though failing to stop talking, given an audience). “It’s been a calm one for me. Khan went to Erik’s house, so it was even quieter than usual. Nice, though.”

---

CHRISTINE

It seems suddenly ridiculous that she could have ever worried about the weather, knowing that she would have such sunny companionship; she steps back as Darius releases her from the hug, a matching grin spreading across her own face. Off to the side, the cheerful stream of Swedish has drawn more than one curious gaze, and Christine’s nose wrinkles in further amusement; it’s lucky that they share a language—she can’t imagine Darius trying to confine all of his enthusiasm to a tablet screen. Though…there are times that it might make it easier to get a word in edgewise, she thinks good-humouredly, as she answers his question with a nod.

Her thoughts still for a moment when he mentions Erik. But it’s what *he* himself had told her, isn’t it?: that he would have Khan come over to spend the day with him. Her smile eases, and she nods again.

“It’s been nice for me as well,” she agrees, “I was very glad to actually see the sun this morning!“

As she talks, they begin to drift towards the door; there’s no reason to loiter in the hotel lobby, with such a nice day waiting outside.

"It makes me wish that I didn’t have stuff I need to buy: it doesn’t seem right to waste any of this weather *indoors*.”

She pauses, stopping several paces short of the door; a man with a large suitcase, who had been walking behind the pair, huffs and steps around them.

“Actually, Darius,” Christine says, with an apologetic grin that doesn’t quite manage to conceal her sudden nervousness, “there’s just—I need to ask the clerk something, before we leave. Back in a blink.” Not waiting for an answer, she turns, and crosses quickly back to the front desk.

---

DARIUS

Prevented from speaking by her abrupt departure, Darius lets out a short “oh- okay” as he watches her make her way across the lobby. It’s no bother to him, just a surprise, and he nods apologetically to the man who they’d inadvertently cut off in front of them.

He steps to the side and leans against the wall next to the door, pulling his phone back out to check messages. His eyes peer over the edge of the screen and around the lobby. Still admittedly a bit shaken by the events of a few days ago, with Khan on the metro, he can’t help the observation that Swedish draws looks that are more curious than hostile- not always the case when he speaks his language in public.

The thought is fleeting, though. He records it, but the day is too bright outside to dwell on it right now. Perhaps he’ll bring it up to Khan later. His gaze goes back to his phone, and lights up when it vibrates, Rachelle’s name popping up at the top of the screen with a simple and cheerful “good morning” addressed to him.

He smiles to himself as he texts back. Getting up a little late today?

His phone buzzes with a nearly instantaneous response. Don’t judge me on my day off, kid.

He laughs to himself and types a quick explanation that he’s out with Christine before pocketing his phone again. He uses it, but both Khan and his father have always insisted that things like phones be used sparingly when he’s in the company of other people. He doesn’t want Christine to feel like his attention is elsewhere, and he mentally maps their day as he idles by the doorway, giving hardly a thought to what she could be asking about.

---

CHRISTINE

“Oh—bonjour, mademoiselle,” the clerk says as he catches sight of Christine, his cordial smile still tinged by the awkwardness of the previous morning. The memory of the young man’s fumbling attempt at hospitality puts Christine a bit more at ease as she comes to a stop in front of the desk; briefly, she meets his gaze with her own nervous grin, then casts a sidelong glance at the fruit bowl at the other end of the long counter.

“Merci pour l'orange. C'était délicieux,” she says kindly, lifting her eyes just enough to see a bit of the tension leave the clerk’s expression. It hardly matters that *she* hadn’t been the one to actually eat the orange—that it may have not even *been* eaten at all. The clerk nods in acknowledgment of her words, his shoulders straightening assuredly.

“Ah,” he says after a moment, clearing his throat, “Comment puis-je vous aider?”

Right.

“S'il vous plaît…kan du växla pengar?” Christine asks quietly, ducking her gaze towards her purse as she hoists it up onto the counter in front of her.

Things in France may be more expensive than they were in Sweden, but after years of hassling with customers over 1000kr notes back home, she doubts that the Parisian cashiers will be any happier at the sight of the current contents of her wallet.

It isn’t safe to carry such large bills, either, is it? Mama would have said so—advice that had never been relevant before now: anyone who happened to catch a flash of one of them might think that her purse contained other such riches.

Yes, *that’s* the reason she wants to trade the banknotes for something less conspicuous—why her question is spoken in an undertone; why she bows her shoulders forward as she opens her purse, in a subtle attempt to shield it from view.

(But the lobby is nearly empty now, and she certainly doesn’t think that *Darius* would ever steal from anyone. And maybe, truthfully, her choice is more to do with the continued sense that she doesn’t *deserve* her great windfall—that others, should they learn of it, might share that same judgement.)

“Je suis désolé, mademoiselle,” the clerk answers a bit hopelessly, “Je ne parle—”

Christine cuts him off with a shake of her head and an apologetic gesture. “Givetvis. Öh…” her brow creases as she digs through her purse and her restricted vocabulary. “Pou—? Pouvez-vous! Pouvez-vous…"

She leans farther forward towards the counter as she slips the pair of 100-euro notes from her wallet; the man’s eyebrows raise slightly at the sight of the money, and it’s nearly enough to make Christine regret her entire course of action.

"Pouvez-vous…öh…faire…argent…petit?” she strings together desperately, casting a surreptitious glance backward at Darius, who is still engrossed in his phone.

“…Changement…?” the clerk suggests uncertainly after a moment; Christine’s face lights up, recognizing the word from her reading.

“Ja! Oui, s'il vous plaît!” she nods, pushing the banknotes forward across the desk. But the clerk just shakes his head, shrugging and saying something apologetic-sounding that she is unable to understand.

“Je ne comprends pas…?”

The clerk gives a sympathetic sigh, gesturing hopelessly towards the cash register in a manner that is all too familiar to her, “Je ne peux pas. Je suis désolé.”

“Oh…” she says, nodding as she awkwardly folds the money back into her purse. “Je comprends. Ça va. Merci.”

“Je suis désolé,” he says again, clearly wishing that he could help; Christine answers with another shake of her head and a repeated ’ça va’, hastily rebuilding her smile before nodding a farewell.

At the other side off the lobby, Darius has abandoned his phone; she surveys him carefully as she crosses the tile floor, irrationally anxious at the thought that he might have overheard any of her failed transaction.

“Heh, I’m not sure what precisely you said in that phone call, Darius,” she quips with exaggerated brightness, “but I’m afraid that it seems to have made all of the employees terrified of me!” As she speaks, she leans forward, pushing the door open, eager for the chance to leave her concerns behind in the lobby.

---

(Part 118)

#/airport AU

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