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japhan2024 · 11 months

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Bromance in paradise

Today's fic didn't really turn out kinky, but I tried to write another one and it didn't work out so I panicked! I am pretty pleased with this idea though lmao. Reality dating show AU! I guess there are mentions of threesomes so I still call it a kinktober fic, but I'm pushing it a bit! :o)

It was a searing afternoon, on an island with white shores, azure waters and palm trees all around. The singles stood huddled around poseur tables, giggling and peeking glances at each others' asses. The hottest one there so far was Ian, a single from Sacramento, YouTuber by day, car-connaisseur by night. All the girls were fawning over his blue eyes and round butt.

The other guys also tried to impress. Take Shayne, an actor from LA, built like a tank and charming his way around the ladies. They laughed and even cried laughing at his jokes, but they still secretly checked Ian out too gauge whether he was looking at them.

They were nearly complete. There were 5 girls and 4 guys. Who would be the last?

Finally, someone walked up to the crowd from across the beach.

"Oooh, he's a looker!" Amanda, a bartender and model from Boston said, giddy with anticipation for the guy to get closer.

"Wowie, look at those tats!" Courtney said, mouth open and blatantly staring. She was a venture capitalist from Malibu.

"Hi everyone! I'm Anthony."

The camera cut to an interview with Anthony.

"I'm an entrepreneur from LA, I love creating start-ups and sell them. Yeah, I'm really good with computers, although you wouldn't think so by my looks," he winked at the camera. Shots of him doing yoga were shown. "Live, laugh, love is my motto. What? It's not corny, it's truth!" He giggled.

All the singles were eying the new arrival. He was wearing nothing but black short shorts, revealing an extremely fit body and intense tattoos.

"His body is like, an enigma," Jacky gushed. "He's like, hot, but nerdy? Macho yet feminine? Either way, I'm wet." She bellowed a sultry laugh and raised her eyebrows mischievously.

Ian was looking at Anthony as well. His blue eyes pensive, taking in the other guy's form, his face clouded over.

"Anthony is an incredible looking guy," he told the cameras. But then he smirked with a raised eyebrow, and said: "but I'm not worried. He's got the looks, but I've got the rizz."

Keith, a comedian from LA, commented: "I am sensing a VIBE, yall. Ian is into that tatted up dude!"

Anthony talked to the cameras. He wore his shiny curls like a crown but one curl kept falling before his eye, causing him to do the Justin Bieber flip. "I am certainly the hottest guy here," he giggled and looked down at his feet. "Maybe I have some competition from that Ian guy, he seems very popular. But I bet I can get a date locked down for the night like.." - he snapped his tatted fingers - "that!"

As he mingled with the crowd, trying to fend off Jacky because she was coming on a little too strong, ducking out from under Courtney, she wasn't really his type, and staying clear of the incredible feminine energy coming from Amanda. The other girls, Arasha and Olivia, didn't really catch his eye.

"Hey, what's up?" Anthony said.

"I'm kinda enjoying this island! It's hot, sure, but look around, it's a little piece of paradise here."

"So true. The water is so blue, it's incredible."

Anthony said this while looking into Ian's eyes. Ian's glance softened and he genuinely smiled.

"So, do you have your mind set on a girl yet?"

Anthony snapped out of his staring, and took a while to recollect himself.

"Uhh, yeah, sure. I kind of fancy Arasha, she's very pretty."

"Good choice man. I am looking at Amanda, and frankly, I'm scared. She could throw me right into the ocean if she wanted."

The guys laughed.

"She'd throw you like a pebble dude."

"She'd yeet me all the way back home."

"So, yeah. What do you do for a living?"

The guys hit it off. Girls kept coming up to them to interrupt and steal their attention, but to no avail.

"It's like, a best friendship is being forged before our very eyes." Arasha, a beauty guru from LA said. She had a twinkle in her eye.

"Well, I guess I get more attention this way, and I don't mind at all," Shayne said while laying in Amanda's lap.

"We're going to share a room together tonight," she said. Shayne smiled as she caressed his cheek.

An agent of the production crew walked up to Ian and Anthony.

"I get that you're hitting it off and forging a friendship, but you're here on a dating show. You should start dating, before it's dark outside. It's harder to film at night."

"Nah, we're good." Ian and Anthony were laughing. They had been drawing in the sand.

"We're going to share a room together tonight," Anthony informed the agent.

A shot of Ian and Anthony together.

"I love this guy, where did you find him?" Anthony asked jokingly.

"And I love him, what a dork, what a dude. I've never met someone who I vibed with more in my life."

"Don't look so judgy! It's 2023, anything can happen. We're deciding to share our room tonight. And no, we're not gay."

"Speak for yourself, I'm bi as fuck!"

"Good for you, dude!"

They high-fived and laughed at the crew, who walked away.

"Look at them go with their tails between their legs!" Anthony laughed.

"Now, let's see if they got a Switch in our room!"

"Dude.."

"Honestly? Good for them!" Arasha said, sipping a cocktail. "But I guess I'm going home alone tonight.

"Listen, as we're changing the rules anyway, there's room for one more," Amanda and Shayne said from over the other table."

Arasha's eyes lit up. "Alright alright alright!"

Courtney and Keith ended up sharing a room and so did Jacky and Noah, a guy who hadn't had much screen time but looked very friendly and cute. They also had a +1, Angela, a mysterious, petite girl.

"That concludes the first, crazy episode of this season!" The voiceover said." Tune in next week for sex, intrigue and true bromance. See you then.

#kinktober 2023 #ianthony

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ryqoshay · 2 years

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Putting on Hairs - Post Production: Fake Eye

Primary Pairing: ShanKate ShizuKasu Also Starring: Karissa Karin Rating: T? Words: ~2.6k Fandom: Love Live Nijigasaki AU: Theater, Pirates Timeframe: Sometime after the main story Events: Femslash February 2023 Event Source: @femslashfeb Prompt: Kisses Content Warning: Pirate stuff, mentions of battles and such

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Author’s Note: My apologies if reading this gets a little confusing, particularly as far as character names are concerned. However, as most of this chapter’s story takes place within a play, I use the names of the characters in said play, not the names of the actors. I did try to sprinkle in a few hints and allusions to the actors here and there though.

Also, while I do not believe reading any of my other pirate play chapters is necessary to understand what is going on in this scene, I still feel it appropriate to point out another bit about names. I’ve referred to the pirate captain characters by their monikers and many others by their given names. This scene felt different to me, so I decided to use their family names instead.

Summary: Captains Shannon Woadhyll and Kathrine Endeison return to port from patrol

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Shannon Woadhyll, Captain of the HMS Solitude Rain, sighed as she saw her ship slip into the safety of the Port of St. George harbor. The commodore was not going to be happy about this…

Perhaps she could simply omit the bad news? After all, in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter, right? Finding nothing would ultimately have had the same result, right?

And there was good news to be had as well. The infamous pirate, Ashby “Immortal” Feanickson was dead. His moniker had been proven false. No more would the Phoenix rise to sail again after supposed defeat. Woadhyll had seen to it all personally.

Of course, credit was due to Captain Kathrine Endeison of the HMS Diamond. Without her and her valiant crew, there was a possibility that the Phoenix may have slipped away, again; damaged, but repairable, and ready to renew its reign of terror in weeks.

Woadhyll glanced fondly at the other ship pulling into port alongside the Solitude Rain. They made a good detachment fleet. The Azure Gold fleet, comprised of just two small, but well-armed ships, was far more agile than the rest of the Vivid Dawn fleet, which was primarily larger, heavily armed ships of the line. It had been that speed and agility that had allowed them to catch the Pheonix in the first place.

A quick reclamation run to the sinking Pheonix had returned much treasure to the Empire’s control, far more than what would be needed to repair the Solitude Rain and Diamond. There was enough gold, jewels and artifacts to reward both captains and crew handsomely, while allowing the commodore to keep a cut of her own before sending the rest back to the King.

But among those artifacts…

Woadhyll grimaced as she glanced again at the sizable gemstone in her hand. Oh, how she wished she could simply toss it into the sea and be done with it. Unfortunately, it had been found by one of her crew, who had made great show of its discovery. And there was no denying the power that radiated off the accursed thing, which had led to much discussion about its nature. Many speculated it was the Eye of Maman Brigitte, a relic supposedly lost to time, and to which had been attributed a wide variety of powers and abilities over the decades.

Except this stone was very much not the Eye, it was a fake. A well-designed fake, to be sure, but a fake nonetheless. Woadhyll had been able to determine as such with a fairly simple examination. The power the pseudo relic produced was just that, radiated energy, not some great indication of secrets that could be revealed within. Perhaps some clever alchemist could figure out harness it to… slowly heat a pot for stew? Woadhyll didn’t believe the power to be enough to fire a forge for steel or even to use fragments of the gem to light gunpowder for muskets or cannon.

Perhaps the thing could be tossed under a blanket on a cold night to help one keep warm? Woadhyll found herself considering as she descended the gangway to the dock. However, there were other ways she preferred to keep warm on such nights.

“Hey, Shannon!” a voice called from behind.

And speaking of such methods… but…

“Captain Endeison.” Woadhyll greeted before sidestepping the incoming tackle hug. “I must urge you to be more wary of your surroundings.”

Endeison turned and scrunched her nose. “As if our crews don’t already know we’re together.” She huffed as she fell into step beside her fellow captain.

“Our crews, yes.” Woadhyll conceded. “But what of the other occupants of the docks? What of the populace of St. George? Or the other members of the Royal Navy?”

Endeison pursed her lips. “You know I don’t care if any of them know either.”

“Professional appearances, my dear Endeison.” Woadhyll stated calmly. “Professional appearances.”

Endeison grumbled what was likely a curse before sighing. “Anyway, what’d you discover of that rock?” She leaned over to look at the stone Woadhyll still held. “Is it really the Eye?”

“No.”

“Huh, while that explains why Captain Woadhyll is being such a grump.” Endeison shifted to an obviously sarcastic tone for Woadhyll’s title and name. “Is it at least worth anything?”

“Probably not.”

“But everything else we got is, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re good, right?

“Mm…” Woadhyll hummed neutrally.

“Of course we are!” Endeison insisted. “Kate Endeison and Shannon Woadhyll, the cutest captains in the Royal Navy, just rid the seas of the fraudulent Immortal pirate!” She spread her arms out to emphasize her point. “Who cares if we happened to find a fake artifact that we weren’t looking for anyway!”

Cutest captains… Woadhyll tried to hold back a chuckle, failed, and ended up snorting it out anyway. “I don’t think our appearance has anything to do with things.”

“Weren’t you just going on about appearances?”

“Professional appearances, not cuteness appearances. The former is important, the latter is not.”

“I beg to differ. Cuteness is always important!” Endeison grinned and used both hands to point her mouth in one of her signature gestures.

Woadhyll finally gave in and laughed. “Alright fine, perhaps it is.” She then gave a quick glance to each side. “Thank you, Kate.” She added in a softer tone. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

Endeison preened at the praise. “Oh, your bow is crooked.”

“Is it really?” Woadhyll couldn’t help asking as the other woman made the adjustment. “Or are you just saying that to have an excuse to touch my hair for a moment while we’re still out in public?”

“Can’t it be both?”

Woadhyll opened her mouth to rebut, but realized she was fine with both being the case. “Well, we’re here.” She ended up saying instead as the couple approached a sizable door. “Let’s make our report.”

“Wait, there’s something else.” Endeison held out a hand. “My clip jostled loose earlier, would you do me the honor of putting it back?”

“Oh for…” Woadhyll shook her head and took the clip, a golden pair of crescent moons and a star she had given her girlfriend years ago. Endeison really would use any excuse for a little more affection, no matter how public. “There, happy now?” She gently patted the clip for good measure.

Endeison grinned again.

Well, that’s a reward unto itself. Woadhyll admitted to herself silently.

Then, before Endeison could delay her further, Woadhyll knocked on the door.

“Come in.” A voice called from within.

“Commodore Evodian.” Woadhyll greeted as she stepped into the office.

Karissa Evodian, Commodore of the Vivid Dawn fleet, looked up from her desk. “Captain Woadhyll. Captain Endeison.” She nodded to each in turn. “What have you to report of your patrol?”

“Ashby ‘Immortal’ Feanickson is dead and his ship, the Phoenix, has been sunk.”

Evodian raised an eyebrow. “We’re sure this time?”

“Very.”

“We have proof.” Endeison added. “We’d’ve brought it with us, but…” She motioned to the finery around the commodore’s office. “We didn’t want to make a mess.”

That wasn’t exactly how I would have explained it… Woadhyll thought to herself. Oh well…

“We were also able to recover some of the cargo.” Woadhyll explained.

“Some?” Evodian repeated.

“We may have been a little overambitious with our attack.” Woadhyll admitted. “The speed with which she sank left us with precious few moments.”

“I see. Well, at least it is sunk for good this time.”

“Indeed.”

“Of course I will be wanting an inventory of the cargo.”

Both captains nodded before placing scrolls on the desk.

“You already prepared them?”

“We knew you’d want them.” Endeison replied.

“Very good.” Evodian smiled. “And what of the gem you are holding, Woadhyll?”

“This is not included on my inventory.” Woadhyll set the stone beside her scroll. “I brought it here to explain its absence. I believe it is a fake Eye of Maman Brigitte.”

Evodian furrowed her brow. “A fake? Are you certain?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I know not why someone would make such a thing.”

“And why did you not just toss it overboard when you discovered its true nature?”

“Its existence was known. People talk. I assumed word would eventually make its way back to you and I did not wish for you to believe Endeison or I were hiding anything from you.”

“I see.” Evodian nodded. “Very well. Perhaps then I should assign the Azure Gold fleet to find the real Eye.”

Woadhyll blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“As you stated, someone intentionally made this to be a replica.”

“Yes.”

“But for what purpose? Just to try to make some quick coin?”

“Don’t a bunch of charlatans do exactly that?” Endeison piped up.

“Yes, but they usually do so with lesser-known artifacts, or ones with less power.” Evodian explained her thought process. “Things that allow them to make outrageous, but not easily disproven claims, so their marks are less able to prove the fraud.”

“But there are many myths about the Eye.” Woadhyll pointed out. “A fraudster could claim any one of them, or even make up one of their own.”

“No. This was created as a diversion, to distract from the real Eye. Perhaps it was kept in an more obvious place so the location of the real one would be overlooked.” Evodian turned the stone in her hands. “Or perhaps, it was given to the pirates by someone who has the real Eye in their possession.”

“That’s…”

“Investigate it.” Evodian stated before handing back the gem.

Woadhyll hesitated.

“That is an order.”

“A-Aye, Ma’am.” Woadhyll hated the fact that she sputtered. “We shall head out again as soon as our ships are repaired.”

“Very good.” Evodian nodded. “Dismissed.”

“Hee…” Endeison let out as the door closed behind her. “An adventure.”

“You’re looking forward to this assignment?” Woadhyll found herself taken aback.

“Yeah, it sounds more fun than hunting pirates.”

Woadhyll decided not to point out that ridding the seas of pirates was the primary reason she had joined the Royal Navy in the first place. Going on treasure hunting adventures was… something more, well… pirate-like. Well, at least it didn’t involve raiding innocent merchant ships.

“Are you not looking forward to it?” Endeison asked, seeming a little dejected.

“I didn’t say that.” Woadhyll said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I… We don’t even know where to start looking.”

“Maybe one of the local archeology digs?”

“The what?”

“One of the many archeology digs funded by the noblemen back home who all love to show off the relics and trinkets and such that are sent to them.”

“Oh…” Woadhyll realized she hadn’t given such things much thought. But it made sense, so many of those ancient things the pirates kept stealing had to have been dug up by someone.

“Maybe we can do some research in the library tomorrow or something.”

“You mean I’ll do some research and you’ll…”

“I’ll help!” Endeison insisted before pouting adorably.

Immediately, Woadhyll felt her mood start to improve again. “We’ll see.” She decided to tease a little. “But for tonight… my quarters or yours, Kate?”

Endeison’s eyes widened at the unexpected invite before she realized the hallway was devoid of possible witnesses. “Uhm, I think yours are closer.”

“Alright.” Woadhyll agreed before leading the way.

By the time the couple reached her room, Woadhyll couldn’t hold back any longer. She nearly slammed the door closed before pulling Endeison close.

“S-Shann…?” Endeison was cut off as their lips met.

Woadhyll wrapped her arms around her girlfriend and pushed deeper into the kiss. By the gods, their patrols lasted far too long these days. Endeison had floated the idea of spending a night or two together on one of their ships, but thus far Woadhyll had resisted; insistent on maintaining decorum. But now that they were back at port, and had a good few days to await repairs, she fully intended to…

“Hee…” Endeison pulled away slightly. “Finally, our first onstage kiss…”

“Cut!”

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“Kasumi-chan, you know that’s not the line.” Kanata scolded, not sounding particularly upset.

“Eh he he…” Kasumi tapped the top of her head. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“Well, I suppose it’s about time I gave you all a break anyway.” Kanata said before yawning. “Alright, everyone, take five!” She leaned back in her seat and was out in seconds.

“C’mon, Shizuko!” Kasumi pulled her girlfriend’s arm. “Let’s go get something to drink! My treat since Shizuko finally gave me my first onstage kiss.” She lead the way off stage toward the break room.

“Your treat?” Shizuku scoffed. “You mean Dia-san and Umi-san’s treat.” She named the owners of the theater, who generously stocked a fridge full of beverages for their staff.

“Whatever.” Kasumi dismissed with a wave of her free hand. “But if Shizuko’s gonna be snarky about it, then she’s getting a lemon tea to match her sourness.”

Actually, lemon tea didn’t sound too bad.

“Meanwhile, Kasumin’s getting a milk tea to match her sweetness.”

Shizuku laughed but didn’t otherwise dispute the claim.

“First ki~ss.” Kasumi sang softly to herself as she strode into the breakroom, still pulling Shizuku behind her. “First kiss in a play with my Shizuko~… And we did it as a re~al kiss, not a stage kiss…”

It was no big secret among the cast and crew of the Sonoda Kurosawa theater that Kasumi had been growing increasingly upset with each passing production that lacked a kiss scene between her and Shizuku. How could it be a secret with how often Kasumi brought it up?

As far as Shizuku was concerned, this was the first time it made sense between their characters. And she still felt like she had to shoehorn it in. However, seeing how happy it all had made her girlfriend, Shizuku was willing to admit that perhaps she and the other scriptwriters really had waited too long to give into Kasumi’s complaints.

“Here.”

Shizuku blinked back to reality in time to catch a can being tossed to her. “Wait, milk tea?”

“Mmm.” Kasumi shrugged before cracking open her own can. “Maybe Shizuku was being sweet too.” She took a sizable sip. “Not only did she give us our first scripted kiss, she also gave Kasumin a really fun character to play.”

“We did write Captain Endeison with Kasumi-chan in mind.” Shizuku said as she opened her tea.

“Even though she’s another villain…” Kasumi said, bringing up the fact that she had primarily been cast as antagonists thus far.

“Well, Kasumi-chan does play a very cute villain.”

Kasumi pursed her lips, obviously wanting to accept the praise, but was hesitant about how it was being given.

“Also, are Endeison and Woadhyll actually villains?” Shizuku inquired.

“You helped write the script and you don’t know?”

“No, that’s not…” Shizuku shook her head. “I mean they’re not evil, just antagonistic towards the protagonists. And the protagonists are pirates, so it’s not like they’re exceptionally good.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Kasumi admitted. “And maybe someday Kasumin will be able to star alongside her Shizuko, not as villains, not as adversaries, but as heroes, together.”

“The witch and her familiar didn’t count?”

“They were supporting characters to the beast and the maiden.”

“Fair.” Shizuku nodded. “So I guess this is going to be Kasumi-chan’s new complaint?”

“Kasumin finally got her kiss, right?” Kasumi grinned. “And speaking of…” She slid closer to Shizuku and tilted her chin up.

Shizuku responded by leaning down and…

“Rehearsing off stage?” A voice came from the door. “I thought Kanata told us all to take a break.”

“Karin~!” Kasumi whined. “We were just about to get to the good part!”

“So I saw.” Karin smirked as she made her way to the fridge. “Don’t mind me, you can continue.”

Kasumi huffed.

“Well,” Karin grabbed what she wanted and began to leave, “see you two back on stage in a bit.”

“Alright.” Shizuku acknowledged as the other woman disappeared down the hall. She then turned back to Kasumi. “Now, where were we?”

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Author’s Note Continued: All that just to give Kasumi an onstage kiss with Shizuku.

Not complaining, mind. I had a lot of fun writing this one. Even if I spent far too much time deciding on a name for a throwaway character that will probably never be mentioned again. Or maybe in part because I spent all that time. I really do enjoy naming things. And yes, there is often a method to my madness when it comes to names in my stories; at least the ones I make up.

Also, I probably could have thought about things more and figured out a more Valentine’s day themed scene to write, for both the prompt and the fact that it’s being posted on the holiday. But I’ve been meaning to let poor Kasumi get her kiss in on stage for a while now, and this seemed as good an excuse as any.

#ShizuKasu #Osaka Shizuku #Nakasu Kasumi #Putting on Hairs #femslashfeb2023 #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic

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goldencuffs · 4 years

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fake dating au part two

Whenever Laurent was overwhelmed, or feeling the kind of loneliness even a good cock couldn’t cure, he would sneak off into the library in the north wing of the Palace, where most of his mother’s official portraits were displayed.

Laurent loved all of them; Hennike was smiling in every single one, blonde hair curled perfectly, and teeth a stunning white. The colouring of her gowns and crowns were so bright, even painted, they seemed to shine in the dullest light. Laurent didn’t really know her; she had died three days after giving birth to him, but he had watched so many interviews and home videos of her, he felt like he had. She had been beautiful, well spoken, and everyone had been shocked when she had fallen for Al, because she had been betrothed to someone else.

Laurent liked coming down here to talk to her. It helped to have her listen to his dramatic tirades. He had started doing it when he was thirteen, when Auguste had enlisted in military training and left him alone, but had stopped a few months later, when Al caught him, his face ashen as he’d watched his youngest son babble to his dead wife.

After that, Laurent made sure to only come down in the dead of night, when he was absolutely desperate.

Which was clearly now; Laurent’s head had been spinning since the dinner at Heston’s. Even dessert hadn’t cheered him up — Heston, the absolute cretin, had served only four options of dessert and not a single one had chocolate in them. Not even one! It was like people intentionally went out of their way to put Laurent in a foul mood. Laurent had already drafted a wordy letter about Heston’s appalling lack of class and hosting abilities on the way home, and he was going to send it to the local tabloid first thing in the morning.

Laurent paced around the library, addressing his favourite portrait of his mother. It was her wedding portrait, and he loved all the detailing in it. The blush pink flowers in her bouquet matched her lipstick and her blush, and the tiara she was wearing had 588 diamonds in it. It was called The Laurent Tiara, and when Laurent had found out it had been Hennike’s favourite crown, he’d cried into his pillowcase for an embarrassingly long time.

“If I tell Al the truth now, he’ll kill me,” Laurent wailed at an appropriately low volume; he was very considerate of the sleeping guards when he threw his tantrums. “Or worse — get me married! Oh god, he’ll set me up with that idiot Torveld and I’ll have to spend the rest of my life hearing about his coin collection. Who even uses cash anymore? And what exactly is the point of having money if you can’t use it? And has Al even considered the aesthetics of our coupling? How are we supposed to wear matching outfits if Torveld looks rubbish in Egyptian blue and azure? Hello! Those are my signature colours!” Laurent sunk down on the lumpy sofa and buried his head in his hands. “Maybe death really is the better option.” He looked up at Hennike’s green eyes. “Is heaven overrated? Where would you personally place it on a scale of one to ten?”

She didn’t answer him, obviously. It was no use, anyway; Laurent was definitely not getting into heaven.

Laurent woke up irritated and unrested, and not for his usual, fun reasons. He hadn’t come up with any sort of solution to his dilemma and he had had a very strange dream where Damianos punched him while Al watched on. Then the scene had changed, and Laurent was on stage accepting his tenth Oscar for Best Actor, even though he had yet to star in any films.

“I’m thinking of becoming an actor,” Laurent told Al later that night during dinner.

Al’s eyes narrowed and his mouth became a sharp line. “What?”

“I mean, I have the looks, obviously. And really, how hard is acting anyway? Clearly you don’t even need to be very good at it to star in a movie — look at Channing Tatum. I’m sorry, but it’s very obvious his height was the only thing that got him into Hollywood, and even then it’s not that impressive.”

Al put down his knife and fork. “Can we —” He sounded very strained, “have a normal conversation for once.”

Laurent considered this. “I don’t think we’ve had enough conversations to statistically find out what constitutes a normal one,” he said. Al went red, so he continued, “So you don’t think acting is for me? Shall I try directing then? Or maybe —” He sat up excitedly in his chair. “I could write movies! I have so many ideas! Why, for instance, has no one considered a gay version of The Princess Bride? What would that even be called? The Prince Groom? Ugh, no, that’s terrible. Oh, who am I kidding — with my face and my body I have no choice but to be on camera. Otherwise, it’d be such a waste.”

The vein in Al’s forehead was throbbing. If he had been wearing his crown, it would have gone unnoticed, but like this, it was rather unflattering.

Al said, “Laurent,” in a sombre tone. “I really hope you’re joking.”

“About The Prince Groom? Kind of. But the acting thing — would it really be that bad?”

“You are a prince,” Al said, teeth clenched. “If it is the glam and glitz you want, you have more than enough here.”

Laurent, uncomfortably, thought of his room, the only place in the Palace that was truly his, devoid completely of personal artefacts. He swallowed. “Yes, well.” He tried a smile. “Maybe I should borrow another crown from the royal archives. I don’t think I’ve worn one with emeralds yet.”

Al resumed eating. “Speaking of crowns,” he said, completely glossing over Laurent’s last statement. “I’d like you to wear the Crown of Naos when King Damianos arrives.”

Laurent’s mouth dropped open. “As if! Al, the gold colouring on that completely washes me out! Not to mention the fact that that thing weighs like, five kilograms!”

Al’s nostrils flared at the word Al. He said, “The crown is a gift from Damianos’ great great grandfather to yours. It will be an appropriate and symbolic gesture if you wear it.”

“But why can’t you wear it? Or Auguste?”

“I am not the one having an affair with the King of Akielos,” said Al.

Oh, right. Laurent had forgotten about that. But what was the point? It wasn’t as though Damianos would recognise the gesture. If anything, he might think of it as inappropriate.

Instead he said, “Well, gee, Al, I didn’t peg you as a romantic.” Laurent fluttered his lashes a little.

Al pushed away his plate. “I’m done, thank you.” A servant immediately came to clear away his food.

Al left the dining hall, his shoulders tight. Laurent wished Auguste would hurry back home already.

In the morning, on the way back from the stables, Jord said, “Looks like your wish came true.”

Laurent stopped dead. “Oh my god — is Pierre-Alexis Dumas here? Is he finally going to collab with me?”

“Who’s Pierre-Alexis Dumas?” said Jord.

Laurent whirled on him. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Sorry.” Jord said, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. The audacity! “But look.” He pointed past Laurent, to the front of the Palace.

Laurent looked. There was a nondescript black limousine parked on the long, gravel pathway. Laurent would have dismissed it, if he didn’t spot sight of Jeurre, Auguste’s chauffeur, leant up against one of the doors, smoking.

Laurent gasped. He passed on his bridle to Jord, who fumbled to catch it, and ran inside.

Auguste and Al were in the plate room. Al was sitting on the large, velvet throne, a glass of whiskey in his hand. It wasn’t even noon! And he was baring his teeth in that weird way — smiling, as he called it.

Auguste was standing in front of him, hands behind his back. He had gotten very tan, and his hair was much darker, a strange golden colour that made the blue-green of his eyes more appealing.

They both turned when Laurent entered. Al’s mouth was already drooping at the sight of him, but Laurent only had eyes for his brother, whom he hadn’t seen in eight whole months.

Laurent wanted to hug him, which surprised even himself. Laurent was not a hugger. He wasn’t much of a toucher, either, unless it involved getting laid.

Auguste gave him a nod. He sometimes acted so much like Al, it disgusted Laurent; the only difference was that Auguste’s eyes were always kind.

Laurent peered at him closely, shocked. “What have you done to yourself? Are you having a mid-life crisis? Should we call Paschal for a yearly psych evaluation?”

Auguste laughed. “It’s a moustache, Laurent. It’s very fashionable in Kempt, you know.”

“It’s horrendous!” Laurent cried. He stared at the thick hair above Auguste’s top lip in horror. “Right. I’m officially ruling Kempt out as a holiday destination this summer if all the men are growing that.”

Al’s eyebrows furrowed. “I like it. It’s very refined.”

“Oh god, now we have to get rid of it,” said Laurent, which made Al frown and Auguste laugh. Auguste squeezed Laurent’s shoulder. He was always mindful of Laurent’s boundaries. “I think you’ve grown taller.”

“I haven’t,” Laurent said. He showed off his riding boots. “See? It’s three inches of heel.”

“Very impractical,” Al said under his breath, which was not a very Kingly thing to do.

Auguste was still smiling. “I like it. It matches the piping of your coat.”

“Yes, exactly!” Laurent was so happy in that moment, he leant forward and hugged Auguste. It was very short, but Auguste looked so pleased afterwards, Laurent wished he had prolonged it.

“Did you get me anything?” he asked, to cover the embarrassment following his sudden burst of affection.

Auguste raised an eyebrow. “I’m hurt, Laurent. You’re not going to ask me about my classes or my rather excellent Anthropology professor?”

Laurent scrunched up his face. “Are you stalling because you didn’t get me anything?”

Auguste smiled. “There’s about fifty boxes of Grand Cru chocolate in your bedroom.”

Laurent’s sound of ecstasy was too loud; Al spilled some of his whiskey onto his pants. Auguste clapped him on the back in commiseration.

As the servants laid out a small meal — roses of smoked salmon on cucumber slices, macaroons, thin slices of cured meat and cheese, crunchy shrimp salad on crusty rolls, grapes and strawberries and mango and pineapple, individual strawberry shortcakes, that kind of thing — Auguste said, “Father tells me you’re having an affair with the King of Akielos.” He said it casually enough, but Laurent could see he wasn’t thrilled about the idea.

Laurent swallowed his last bite of sandwich and placed a hand on his heart. “Al! You should know better than to gossip, shame on you!”

Al just sighed, a long, suffering sound, and Auguste glared openly at him. “I thought you promised to stop disrespecting Father like that.”

Laurent’s stomach pooled with an uncomfortable tightness. Being told off by Auguste somehow was always worse than being told off by Al.

“Fine,” Laurent said shortly. He said to Al: “Oh dearest Father, Papa, Your Majesty, light of my life, the man who impregnated Queen Hennike, so I, your glorious creation, could be born to bring some joy to this bleak, bleak world: stop gossiping immediately.”

There was a very long pause. Then Auguste laughed. “You are such a shit.”

Al sighed again. “He’s becoming more and more insolent by the day.”

“Thank you so much,” Laurent said, wiping away an imaginary tear.

Auguste barked another laugh. Al sipped more whiskey; a very good sign. Laurent was going to take advantage of this; he wanted a new watch.

Auguste continued his questioning a few minutes later. “So. You and the King — it’s true?”

Laurent flapped a hand. “Oh, you know how it is. He saw those pictures of me from Aimeric’s birthday party where I wore those silk shorts that were just long enough to be tasteful and the poor darling had absolutely no choice but to slide into my DMs and woo me.”

“What’s a DM?” asked Al, and if the question had come from anyone else, Laurent would have found it adorable. He probably would have tweeted it as well.

“Texting,” Auguste said. He seemed contemplative. “Aimeric’s birthday — from last September? It’s been a bit more than a year.”

“Yes,” said Laurent. He tried to say it as wistfully as possible. “He bought me a Ferrarri.”

“Really?” Auguste sounded impressed. “The 1954?”

Laurent grinned. “Do you want to drive it?”

“Fuck yeah,” Auguste said, then quickly cleared his throat and looked at their father. “I mean, yes. Perhaps later in the afternoon.”

Al shook his head, but he didn’t say anything for the rest of the meal. Well, he didn’t say anything to Laurent. He really was in a good mood.

Having Auguste back had Laurent so distracted it wasn’t until a few days later that he realised how frantically the staff were cleaning the floors and walls and painting frames.

In fact, he became so relaxed doing less than nothing all day, since Al was too busy doing this and that, or fawning over Auguste, he didn’t comprehend why the chefs needed fifty boars delivered fresh on Friday morning, until Al told him before their weekly Council, “I want you to wear your red high neck blouse tomorrow.”

“Why?” Laurent asked, checking for any fine lines in the shine of the armour of one of the propped knights in the hallway.

“It is the colour of the Akielos banner. I am trying to seem as diplomatic as possible.”

Laurent went very, very still. With dawning horror, he said, “The — Damianos is coming tomorrow?”

Al’s expression turned thunderous. “Do not waste my time asking stupid questions, Laurent. You know how much I despise it.”

Laurent’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” he said quietly, real fear settling into his bones. Damianos was going to murder him tomorrow. He would need to get a facial tonight, to ensure he was the most beautiful corpse the human eye had seen. And then something much more horrific occurred to him. “Wait! I can’t wear the red high neck with the Crown of Naos! Those colours completely clash!”

Al seemed to age a few centuries in a blink of an eye. With a shake of his head, he walked into the Chambers, leaving Laurent alone in the hallway.

Laurent frowned. One of these days, he was going to be the one storming out. It was only fair.

Things only got worse.

Laurent’s last minute facial broke him out, so he threatened to sue and smashed one of their stupid reclining chairs.

Laurent had honestly thought that was going to be the worst of it; the pimple along his jawline was easy to cover up once he got the local dermatologist to inject something in it.

But on the morning of Damianos’ arrival, Laurent was in a terrible mood. He hadn’t slept at all, worried about his pimple, his horrible outfit, and the fact that a man who was the size of a small house — Google said Damianos was 6’6”, but he was definitely way more, no arguments — was going to viciously kill him.

“Hurry up,” Laurent snapped at the servant dressing him, who had been pulling too sharply at his laces for the last six minutes.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he answered meekly, and continued fumbling about.

When a few more minutes passed, Laurent looked down at him. “Okay, seriously, this is ridiculous. You usually get me dressed in ten minutes or less. What is the problem?”

“I —” The servant looked like he was on the verge of tears. “Your Highness, the laces — I can’t do them up. It’s uh — it’s too tight.”

“What do you mean?” Laurent asked, narrowing his eyes. “This fit perfectly a month ago.”

“Yes, well —” And his eyes slid over to the bed, where an empty, open box of chocolates was stacked against many other empty boxes of chocolate.

Laurent saw red.

It took three guards and then Jord and Lazar to keep Laurent restrained enough to not kill him. In the end, he yelled until his throat was hoarse and the servant broke down, running out the room with his face covered in tears.

Afterwards, Laurent attempted to do up the laces himself, because he was not fat, and he definitely had not gained weight; he was svelte and sexy and desirable.

In the end, he could only do his trousers up, and only just. If he let out a particularly deep exhale… well, breathing was overrated anyway, Laurent had always thought so.

“Oh, forget it!” Laurent howled, miserable and on the verge of tears himself. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, you don’t, Your Highness,” Jord assured quickly. Too quickly.

Laurent glanced at himself in the mirror. His ass was practically suffocated in these trousers — and that was his best feature! He ran a hand down it forlornly. “It’s too tight.”

Jord’s eyes followed his hand with avid interest. He was drooling.

“Could be tighter,” said Lazar, leaning against the bedpost.

Laurent flung himself on the bed. “No it couldn’t. I need to lose about three kilograms in the next —” He checked the clock, “half an hour. Oh god. Just tell Al I died. It’ll make his day, go on.”

“Orgasms help with weight loss,” said Lazar. “I could fuck your face.”

Laurent sniffed “Don’t be so stupid.” He looked at the clock again. “Obviously, riding you will help me lose more calories. Both of you get on the bed, quick.”

Laurent did not lose three kilograms in half an hour. As enjoyable as the sex had been, it had only made him tired and anxious.

Jord suggested that Laurent should just let the laces at the back trail, and cover it up with a coat, even though it was far too hot in the year to wear one. Laurent obliged anyway, knowing how difficult Al would be if he showed up wearing undiplomatic colours. He changed his trousers into a different pair, making sure it had an elastic waistband to stretch accommodatingly.

When the crown was placed on his head, he staggered a little. It really was unnecessarily heavy. His great great grandfather must have had a head the size of a watermelon.

Laurent walked unsteadily down the hall, towards the Palace steps where Auguste and Al were already waiting. His insides became so twisted with the thought of seeing Damianos, he had to make a detour and hide behind a tapestry to have a panic, but only a little one.

Outside, the sun was blazing. Auguste clapped him on the back in greeting, and Laurent winced, the material of his blouse sticking to his armpits. Al’s lips curled at his outfit, but Laurent couldn’t care. He hoped he looked beautiful enough — just enough — so Damianos would reconsider his murder. At the very least, Laurent hoped nothing happened to his face.

“Alright?” said Auguste. “You’re sweating.”

“Shut up,” said Laurent, mortified. He was a prince; he did not sweat.

Auguste’s response was cut off by the sound of the gates opening and rolling tires on gravel. Laurent’s heart was in his ears; he swallowed, but it made him feel more sick.

The sleek, black car was parked in the driveway. Several seconds later, Damianos stepped out, tall and handsome.

Laurent whimpered. It was one thing to see photos of Damianos on the internet, walking briskly down the street or shaking hands with Al, and it was another thing entirely to see him in the flesh as he walked down their driveway.

He was so tall. And he was built like a tree; all thick arms and chest and thighs. Laurent had such a weakness for thighs, they were really the best part of a man’s body, how they framed the groin and the cock and —

Laurent realised, suddenly, that he had not prepared at all for how he was going to greet Damianos.

Lovers kissed each other, yes? Laurent didn’t think he could do that without being punched but god, would Al think it was weird if he didn’t at least attempt to kiss Damianos? Maybe he could pretend to suddenly be shy, too coy to look into Damianos’ eyes in front of everyone — yes, yes that sounded perfect.

Damianos came up the stairs, smile wide and straight. His teeth were amazing. Were they fake? Laurent didn’t think so; he ran his tongue over his own, nervous, heart still thumping in his ears.

He greeted Al first. Laurent’s head was spinning. What if Al said something? What if Auguste did? What if Damianos said something that alluded to the fact that this was technically, the first time he and Laurent would be speaking to another?

And then Laurent couldn’t think of anything else, because Damianos was standing right in front of him.

He reached out, one large, dark hand to shake Laurent’s. Laurent staggered forward, into his chest, and closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, Laurent saw the most beautiful angel.

“Wow, you’re hot.” Laurent poked a very hard, very strong bicep. “Heaven’s pretty cool.” He was dead, obviously, because people this good looking didn’t exist in the mortal world.

“You’re not dead, Laurent. Can you sit up?”

Laurent thought about it. He wasn’t dead? That was good news. But he felt like he was dead because he couldn’t move his body at all.

“Here, can you follow my finger?”

“Hmm.” Laurent said and stared unblinkingly at what he assumed was a finger. It was quite blurry.

“I think he’s concussed.”

Laurent giggled. The stranger’s accent made it sound like he had said cock-cussed. It made Laurent want to suck cock.

He said, “If I’m not dead, I’d like to be. Jord, get me my blue Prada scarf. I want to be buried in it. Lazar, get your gun out.”

“He doesn’t seem concussed.” That was Al. The compulsion to die was suddenly much stronger.

“We should take him to the hospital,” the hot angel said. Laurent was in love.

He said as much: “I really love you,” he told the blurry figure. Then he rolled over onto his side and threw up.

#captive prince #im going to see if its worth posting on tumblr and ao3 dont mind me #fake dating au #damen x laurent #my writing #my fic #queue

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legobiwan · 4 years

Text

Whumptober #5

“on the run”

Notes: Yes, I’m a day behind, I’m hoping to post a second story tonight but let’s see where life goes. This story...I started out with an idea, and then that idea went in a very different direction as I started writing. RotS AU.

General Whumptober tag

Whumptober 2020 #1

Whumptober 2020 #2

Whumptober 2020 #3

Whumptober 2020 #4

~~~~~~

If you were here, Qui-gon…

Right. If you were here you’d probably shackle me up - wrists tightly enclosed in Force-dampening binders, restraining collar around my neck. Your harsh words would be an invisible whip against my true skin, your touch too soft for a monster such as I, pleading almost, far too kind than what I deserve for my crimes.

You would do all this, Qui-gon, your eyes dark with disappointment, letting no other man or soldier or droid handle me except yourself. Your failure of a Padawan trussed up like a common criminal (common? Perhaps not.), signed, sealed, and delivered personally back to Coruscant for my trial and probable execution.

And you would be right to do so, Qui-gon. So, so right. Force, part of me wishes you could swoop down right now, take me in your arms, the last friendly touch I would ever know before you placed my body on the electroguillotine’s platform to the cheers of the Senate, to the stony facades of the Jedi Council. One last bit of kindness, your hand on my cheek, before the killing blade would deliver me from my sins, before this would all just be over.

After all, it’s not every day a member of the Jedi High Council assassinates the Chancellor of the Republic on live holofeed.

Their faces Qui-gon, the way the Force shifted like two ancient, tectonic masses, colliding as Palaptine - or should I say Sidious - fell from his lofty perch, body plunging, down, down, down until it hit the subterranean floor of the Senate chamber with a sickening, exhilarating thud.

The similarities to my subterfuge as Rako Hardeen were not unmarked, believe me, Qui-gon. Palpatine, however, unlike myself, continues to be dead, two neat holes placed through the side of his treacherous head.

I feel, perhaps, that I have forsaken myself.

But you weren’t there, Master, you didn’t watch through thin slits of wavering consciousness, of azure and crimson rainbows, of the sneaking tar of decay that oozed forth from the man who would lead - would conquer - the Republic and the Jedi. You weren’t there as your Padawan - your friend and brother, the boy you so cared for (more than myself, I can now admit). As Anakin brought the two blades together at Dooku’s neck, executioner of a death sentence signed in familiar large, looping letters - “Sheev Palpatine, Chancellor of the Republic.”

It was him, Qui-gon. The Sith Lord was right there, the entire time, one hand on Anakin’s shoulder, leading him to perdition.

And I did nothing to stop it.

Nothing, until now.

Perhaps if I had been the one to perish on Naboo…perhaps none of this would have ever happened. But that is another world lost to another time, and the ‘here and now,’ as you would say, consists of a cold storage closet in the rear of a Rodian smuggler’s ship.

Three days I’ve been cramped in this space, my passage paid with the frozen Twi’lek guard lying at my feet, legs bent at unnatural, backward angles, the trickle of blood dripping from their nose now an ugly, improvised tattoo.

It’s cold, Qui-gon. A blessing, in some ways, as my departed friend here is unlikely to suffer the worst effects of putrefaction, but I feel even if I were to be on the sunny beaches of Scarif, I would still shiver at my own conscience.

I am tired, Qui-gon.

~~~

You visited me in my dreams last night, Qui-gon.

Neither the avenging angel of death nor the soft shepherd of comfort, you stood, distant, enigmatic as a Loth-Sphinx, as distant and maddening as you had been in life.

I suppose this should have come as no surprise.

Why? You asked me.

Why what, Qui-gon? Why did I kill Palpatine, why did I run, why did I make a fool’s promise to you all those years ago?

As to the last question, I believe - well, perhaps not believe, but fervently hope - you know the answer already.

To answer the others - what choice did I have? To witness what I had, to know Anakin was in thrall to this…this thing, that I would never convince him of Palpatine’s true intentions, that I had lost any trust, any esteem he may have still had for me with my own betrayals -

It was all happening too fast, Qui-gon. The situation on Mandalore, the battle on Coruscant, Dooku’s death. I briefly confided in Bail Organa, the Senator from Alderaan, hinted at my actions in regards to the Mandalore situation, on the way to Coruscant. He told me in no uncertain terms that the Senate would be forced to bring down charges of insurrection, even possibly treason, once they learned of my manipulations of the GAR.

What was one more charge, on top of the others, I thought.

It…it’s better this way, Qui-gon. The Jedi, while still under suspicion, have an obvious and convenient scapegoat, a Council member gone rogue, the underground actor fanning the flames of rumors of a coup. Anakin, while unstable, is at least now out of his orbit. Whether he stays in the Order or leaves, I cannot say, but I hope for his sake - and his unborn child’s - he leaves.

Don’t you see, Qui-gon? The only one who must suffer here is me and I will do so gladly.

Ah, but why not turn myself in, you ask. The deed is done, why run from my actions?

The Twi’lek’s crimson lividity has given way to a more pale ochre, abdomen swollen and nauseated. While the cold has stalled this inevitable process, I must confess to being a bit wary of my companion’s stability.

One more night, and we shall reach Mandalore.

I remain here, discomfited bunkmate to the dead, while Cody and his men span the galaxy, hunting for the wayward Jedi - the turncoat, the traitor, the aruetii…

But you see, Qui-gon, as the galaxy turns its eye on me, it distances its gaze from the Order, from the Council’s machinations.

If I had not acted, someone else would have - with far more dire consequences, I fear.

We spoke of it, you know. Taking over the government, stripping Palpatine of his power (and how laughable a notion that is, to strip a Sith Lord of their edged fury. Impossible to achieve without bloodshed.) It’s not that we wanted to usurp the government - even within the Council itself, there was strong dissent to even considering this notion.

Mace would have gladly fallen on his lightsaber to see justice served. As would Kit. And Plo. And possibly Master Yoda.

But their souls were clean.

Mine, on the other hand…

It’s late Qui-gon, and I fear tomorrow will be an unpleasant day.

~~~

You once said, Qui-gon, that upon finding a confluence of paths, there is no correct direction, that, in the end, there was only a decision, and the consequences thereof.

I find myself in such a place.

It seems the news of my actions reached Mandalore before I did, the civil war now at an uneasy pause, Maul neutered (and what does that say about me, that I could not achieve this victory when Ahsoka could? Perhaps I am too close, too near that fault line to act as she could.)

But they do not know, Qui-gon, what I do. Ahsoka may look on in muted fury, Rex dipping his head as he comms Cody, his only words a soft we have him, Bo-Katan radiant with indignation - why could you have not done this before?

Before we both lost her, before Satine’s legacy was burnt to the ground, before it came to this.

They wrap me in cords and shackles and the best Jedi restraints Mandalore has to offer, dumping me in the same containment cell as him, who takes one look at my sorry state, who knows what sins are written on my soul.

Maul throws back his head, and cackles, the sound of a hundred broken mirrors.

They only have one, he says.

He doesn’t need to explain further.

The Mandalorian sarcophagus. We both saw it, that first time on Mandalore, Satine’s cheeks turning pink, then red, as she explained the true purpose of the monstrous devices.

We would never use them now, she said. There’s no need.

We can only hope, you answered.

And now, it is a question of who is the greater monster - the being born of blood and violence, or the one who accepted it into his heart.

He would have been his new apprentice, Maul drawls, with a sick smile.

I know, I answer. I do know, don’t I? Knew this entire time and yet could do nothing to stop it - until now.

Will you accept your fate, Kenobi? Be hauled back to Coruscant in chains, your allies grinning as your head falls from the blade?

I should. Damnit, I should, Qui-gon! I am a Jedi, I do not fear death, for there is only the Force.

And yet…

~~~

We are leaving, Qui-gon, Maul and I. To what end, I cannot say. Do not fear for me, Master of mine. I am long corrupted, past redemption in this life and can only hope to use my darkness for an ultimate good.

There is much to be done.

May I feel your soft hand on my cheek one more time, Qui-gon, if only in my dreams.

Please forgive me.

I am sorry.

Yours in this life and the next,

Obi-wan Kenobi.

#whumptober #whumptober 5 #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #darth maul #ahsoka tano #bo katan kryze #writing #the eternal struggle #i have no idea what this is #this just...SPROUTED from my being today #while the outline is the same the execution is VERY different from what i had envisioned #ah writing #i am not in charge here the characters are

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crookedbigbang · 4 years

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ARTIST CLAIMS ARE HERE!

TIMELINE:

Artist Sign-Ups: May 22-August 7

Artist Claims Open: August 6

Final Check-In: August 30

Final Drafts Due: Sept 18

Posting Begins: September 21

THE BASICS:

One of the unique aspects of a big bang challenge is the combination of fic and fanart. Artists are welcome to create art in any medium they choose, including but not limited to: mixes, videos, podfics, gifs, drawings, paintings, graphics, edits, comics, physical crafts. Art is impossible to quantify, but we do ask that artists put in a significant effort in recognition of the work that the writers are doing on the fics. Authors will be writing their fics all summer and will be expending significant time on the project. A good benchmark for artists is about 15-20 hours of work, including brainstorming and planning.

The final product should be a collaboration between author and artist. What that collaboration looks like is a highly individual process: if you get a clear artistic vision, run with it; but you should also feel free to ask your author any questions you have along the journey. Artists and authors should share drafts with each other as they go so that when the final products are posted, they complement each other well.

We have 5 wonderful Big Bang fics. Click the Read More for their summaries!

Fic 1: Take Me Out to the Ballgame Tentative Title: (not the title) take me out to the ballgame Pairing(s): Jon Favreau / Tommy Vietor Characters: Jon Favreau, Tommy Vietor Ao3 Rating: E Warnings: No archive warnings apply Additional Tags: Baseball AU ; Coming Out ; Bisexual Characters ; Dating ; Alternate Universe - Different Meeting Summary: Jon and Tommy meet playing baseball in high school and start to fall for each other, then Tommy moves away. Their epic love story continues when they end up on the same Minor League baseball team. The big question is, will they end up with a World Series ring or an engagement ring? Fic 2: Spirits that I’ve Cited Tentative Title: Spirits that I've cited Pairing(s): Tommy/Lovett; background Emily/Jon, Alyssa/Erin Characters: Tommy, Lovett, Favs, Emily, Alyssa, Erin, Dan Ao3 Rating: tentative M (for psychological horror and possible sex) Warnings: a non-consensual kiss under the influence of possession might happen, this scene is not yet written Additional Tags: paranormal investigators, slow burn, reluctant colleagues to friends to lovers, mutual pining, angst, hurt/comfort, accidental internet stars, bed-sharing, coming-out, road trips, witches getting married, demonic possession, ghosts, mythical creatures, Monster of the Week, psychological but non-graphical horror, slightly unreliable narrator, intoxication, magical mind control, themes of bodily and mental autonomy, (past) abusive relationships (not between main characters), possession induced mental health problems, worldbuilding, happy ending Summary: It’s a cold day in November when Tommy meets Lovett and his life turns upside down. Which shouldn’t be the worst thing, looking at it objectively.

Because, objectively, Tommy’s life already sucks. He is lonely, depressed, and Crooked Medium, the agency for paranormal investigations he co-owns with his ex-boyfriend Jared, is falling apart. Besides the shitty fact that he and Jared broke up, they constantly operate in the red, despite their best efforts. And it’s just the garbage cherry on top of the dumpster sundae that Jared and their only other core member, Jon, hate each other’s guts. Jon is Tommy's friend, but more importantly, he is Crooked Medium's exorcist par excellence, and for a former priest Tommy thought he might be better at the whole 'turn the other cheek' thing. He supposes that probably explains the 'former' part. So of course he panics when Jon unexpectedly buys out Jared’s shares in the company and offers Lovett a one-year apprenticeship as a medium and buys Jared shares of the agency. Suddenly Tommy’s faced with training a person who is not familiar with magic in one of the most dangerous jobs in the world, instead of relying on the experience Jared had. Despite the help from magical professors Alyssa and Dan, witch and shop-owner Erin, and their whole team—to Tommy it feels like Lovett’s credentialing next November is ages away. However, after a bonding experience involving ghost mice, Tommy slowly but surely discovers that Lovett isn’t an inconvenience at all. He is charming, attractive, hilarious, and way more talented than Tommy originally anticipated. Even their business improves, especially when they become an overnight internet sensation due to a malfunction. Instead of operating only in Boston, people across the country are now booking them to handle their mystical and paranormal problems. With each new case, Lovett learns more—and Tommy learns more about Lovett. This is unfortunate, given that Lovett is technically Tommy's intern, and the last thing Tommy needs is a harassment scandal. Tommy, naturally good at ignoring things, decides to ignore it. Which works out fine, thank you very much. At least up until Alyssa and Erin’s magical wedding in the woods. Or up until Lovett has a life-changing experience with a mirror. Or maybe even up until Lovett (plus Lovett's friend/household spirit Spencer) moves in. And just when Tommy thinks falling in love with his employee is his biggest problem, it turns out much more nefarious forces are at work. Fic #3: The gentle outline of the country we are building Tentative Title: The gentle outline of the country we are building Pairing(s): Jon Favreau/Jon Lovett/Tommy Vietor, Jon Favreau/Jon Lovett, Jon Favreau/Tommy Vietor, Jon Lovett/Tommy Vietor Characters: Jon Favreau, Jon Lovett, Tommy Vietor, Dan Pfeiffer, Alyssa Mastromonaco, Cody Keenan, Michael O' Neill, Spencer Wong, Andy Favreau, Tanya Somanader, Travis Helwig Ao3 Rating: E Warnings: No archive warnings apply Additional Tags: DC era, LA era, pining, wrong number AU, polyamory, threesomes, jealousy, slow burn, friends with benefits, angst with a happy ending, getting together, smut, fluff, blowjobs, anal sex, rimming, dirty talk, sexting, drinking, marijuana, sex under mild influence of alcohol, friends to lovers. AO3 (working) Summary: It takes spending the night in one room with a king-sized bed for Jon, Lovett, and Tommy to finally get it right after nearly a decade of trying. AKA A story about Jon, Tommy, and Lovett getting together, aided and abetted by Jon’s technological ineptitude, misunderstandings, love, friendship, and longing. Expanded summary: Jon and Lovett embark on a charged, text-based flirtation without knowing the other after Jon texts the wrong number during the 2008 general election campaign. It feels like a summer fling that wouldn’t end, just like those times Jon had slept with Tommy back in Chicago. But both of them do end, but at least Jon’s going to the White House with a new speechwriter and his best friend in tow. Jon thinks, not the right time then with Tommy, not the right time now with you, Lovett. They write speeches and policies and learn lessons on how to build a country and a friendship. The first summer at the White House, Tommy starts taking Lovett to bed almost every night. Two years later, he stops, because Lovett knocks on his door one day and says, “I am leaving.” Not quite the right time for you and me. Lovett spends his days in LA writing things very different from what he used to but thinking thoughts about Jon and Tommy that aren’t all that different. Jon and Tommy skype him from Chicago when his show gets canceled, and Lovett thinks about how right they look together on the screen, like they belong to each other. Jon comes to LA and doesn’t leave. Tommy moves closer, but not close enough. They lose everything when November 2016 dawns and then build an empire from the ruins, and over the next few months, they think, maybe it wasn’t the right time then, and maybe we did not do this before because we were always meant to do this together. All of us. Fic 4: Loving Him was Red - Azure Title: loving him was red - azure Pairing(s): Jon Favreau/Dan Pfeiffer, background Michael/Elijah Characters: Jon, Dan, Tommy, Lovett, Alyssa, Michael, Elijah Rating: E Warnings: No major warnings apply Additional tags: alternate universe, actors, hollywood, tabloids, love at first sight, BDSM, like lots of BDSM, spanking, flogging, humiliation, painplay, safeword use, failed scene, alcohol, alcohol abuse, drug use and abuse, divorce, bad at communication Summary: Rising star Dan Pfeiffer meets grown-up child actor Jon Favreau on the set of the movie that just might be their big break. It's a good old-fashioned Hollywood story. Boy meets Boy. Boy falls head over heels at first sight. Boy marries Boy. Boy ties Boy up and fucks him til he screams. But the Hollywood lights hit every dark shadow too and as the tabloids stir up gossip; as Jon spends more and more time at the club; and as Dan starts to wonder what comes next, the faultlines widen and their marriage falls into the abyss This is the first of a three fic arc chronicling the beginning, end, and re-beginning of an epic love story. Fic 5: Invisible String

Tentative Title: Invisible String Pairing(s): Jon Favreau / Tommy Vietor Characters: Jon Favreau, Tommy Vietor Ao3 Rating: Explicit Warnings: NO WARNINGS Additional Tags: affection, holding hands, chase sequence, shaving (face), mention of pod sponsors, wills & estates, cartoon villains, clothes sharing, Boston, plane flights, current day/LA era,Summary: Human boatshoe Tommy Vietor discovers he can claim a huge inheritance if he can prove he is married. If he does not, the $40 million fortune will go to the National Rifle Association. Best friend Jon Favreau steps up to help Tommy out. The NRA hires investigators to find information in order to break the will, chasing our boys all over Boston at one point.

#come create art for these amazing fic!#crooked big bang

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fuckyeahexofics · 6 years

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hiiiii I've noticed that one of the admins has xiuhan as one of their fav ships and since it's one of mine as well and I haven't seen y'all post xiuhan stuff in awhile I was wondering if the admins could share their fav xiuhan fics pretty please!! the more and the longer the better ;-;

180619

(Un)chained (stripper!au, NC-17)Feels Like Flying (skater!au, NC-17)For the first time in forever (magic school!au, PG-15)Lost In Shadow (fantasy, R)Photo-Phobic (fluff, romance, PG-15)Stargazer (alien!au, PG-15)Supernova (college/famous!au, PG-15)Try To Remember (And If You Remember Then Follow) (reincarnation, NC-17, character death, underage)

-ana

Ana you got a lot of my favorites

anything by jumpthisship (you have to ask her to join the community)also anything by sparklepox, A+ xiuhan writer (some are listed above), I particularly like A World Like None That You’ve Ever Known (royalty!au, fantasy!au, PG)Days of Abandon (actor!au, R)Suits (bodyguard!au, R)

-jen

Duty Over Pride (enemies to lovers, fantasy, arranged marriage!au, NC-17)Ever After (angel!au, PG-15, uhm very angsty)Grayscale (soulmate!au, PG-15)Hues of Blue; Indigo & Azure & Cerulean (mermaid!au, PG-15)Keeper (blind!au, neighbors!au, NC-17)Please touch me (neighbors!au, NC-17)Stranger (spy!au, college!au, NC-17)Strange Sounds (hogwarts!au, NC-17)

-niki

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tripstations · 5 years

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French leave: fun places to stay on four routes to the south of France | Travel

ROUTE 1

From the north-west ferry ports (St Malo, Cherbourg, Caen, Le Havre) down the west of France, via Nantes and Bordeaux, to the south-west

La Chouette Cabane, near Laval, Pays de la Loire

These three luxurious treehouses and a wooden gypsy caravan make for a peaceful rest from the road between Rennes and Angers. Eat dinner and breakfast on the sun-dappled terrace, after winching the hamper up by a pulley. And before hitting the road for the onward journey, let the kids meet and feed the animals on the farm. • Treehouses €105.50-135, caravan €81-110, both B&B for two, chouettecabane.fr

Terragora Lodges, south of Cholet, Vendée

This quirky glamping site, surrounded by fields and meadows, has a range of accommodation options, from a chrysalis-shaped cabin to clay mud huts – none of which could be described as “standard”. There is an on-site restaurant serving meals using fresh and seasonal produce, as well as a communal lounge space and large terrace. It’s also just 15 minutes’ drive from the Puy du Fou historical theme park – where a historical extravaganza features some 1,000 animals and costumed actors – and 60km east of pretty Nantes, home of the bonkers but brilliant Les Machines de l’île and its 12-metre-high mechanical elephant. • Doubles start at €61, room-only, terragora-lodges.com

Demeure Valeau du Rivage, Luçon, Vendée

There’s a friendly welcome at this B&B, just 15 minutes off the A83 autoroute, where hosts Isabelle et Olivier Cline have transformed a historic mansion with 15th- and 17th-century features into a fantastic place to stay with three spacious rooms, each with unique features and decor. A highlight is the generous breakfast served either in the garden or stately dining hall, which includes breads and pastries, fresh fruit juices, cheese, charcuterie, yoghurts and home-made jams, as well as 15 choices of tea. • Doubles from €100-120 B&B, valeaudurivage.com

La Palombière, Gironde, near Bordeaux

Just south of Bordeaux, the welcoming Château Lestange has an enchanting treehouse that makes a great overnight adventure if you’re travelling further south. Perched in a huge tree in the idyllic grounds, the red cedar cabin is decked out with fresh flowers, fairy lights and vintage finds for a magical atmosphere. It can host up to five, with kids sleeping on the mezzanine level, and breakfast served in the chateau itself (or delivered to the door in peak season). • Treehouse from £155-£233 for two plus up to three kids B&B, canopyandstars.co.uk

ROUTE 2

Calais to south-west France, via Rouen and Le Mans

Saint-Pompon village in the ever-popular Dordogne region of south-west France. Photograph: Alamy

Hôtel Les Hauts de Montreuil, Montreuil-sur-Mer, Pas-de-Calais

Just an hour south of Calais, Montreuil-sur-Mer has reinvented itself in the last couple of years as a destination gastronomique with local food boutiques, restaurants and hotels signed up to a joint venture to promote their gastronomic prowess. Stock up for the onward or homeward journey, then check into the three-star Hôtel Les Hauts, with 27 pleasant rooms set in a 16th-century building in the centre of town. • Doubles from €79-102, room-only, leshautsdemontreuil.fr

Château de Montaupin, Oizé, western Loire

Don’t be intimidated by the grand title or imposing facade of this virginia creeper-clad manor house in the rolling countryside between La Flèche and Le Mans. You couldn’t wish for a more laid-back place to rest your head. Owner Marie David’s dog comes to greet you on arrival, and from there it’s like being welcomed into the family home rather than a gilt-edged chateau, which is why so many guests return year after year. After the long drive, guests can cool off in the swimming pool, then sit down at a communal table to enjoy a five-course homemade dinner of pâtés and rillettes, local lamb, beef or pork, and carafes of wine. There are five bedrooms, all decorated in eclectic style; for families who want to stay for longer, the gîte in the garden sleeps up to eight (€450-580 a week). • Doubles from €75-80 B&B, dinner €22.50pp with wine (€10 children up to 12), chateau-de-montaupin.e-monsite.com

Hôtel de France, near Le Mans, Pays de la Loire

For many, Le Mans means only one thing – car racing, and those who thrive on the history of the world-famous Le Mans 24 will adore the Hôtel de France. The charming three-star hotel is famous for having hosted many of the racing teams over the years, and each of its 25 en suite rooms is named after a famous driver and decorated in tasteful floral or classic prints. The restaurant is worth a pit stop of its own – there’s an excellent menu and a convivial atmosphere between the many regulars who stop here every time they head south. • Doubles from €91-118 room-only, lhoteldefrance.fr

Hôtel les Orangeries, Lussac les Châteaux, Nouvelle-Aquitaine

If you’re Dordogne-bound, or thereabouts, then head south at Poitiers towards Brive-la-Gaillarde and make a beeline for the lovely Hôtel les Orangeries, where food-lovers will be well rewarded with chef David Royer’s superb, organic-led cuisine, using local produce. He’s also won prizes for sustainability. The hotel itself is set in an 18th-century maison, with decor that blends contemporary style with rustic features such as natural stone walls. Outside, the inviting pool is overlooked by orange trees. • Doubles from €85-135 room-only, sawdays.co.uk

ROUTE 3

Calais, via the Paris Périphérique, then down the backbone of France known as Le Méridienne, A71 and A75, Clermont Ferrand, and on to the Mediterranean coast

Millau Viaduct, the tallest bridge in the world Photograph: Getty Images

Villa du Châtelet, Compiègne, Picardy

This historic villa was built for the composer Léo Delibes in 1886 and is now the pride and joy of owners Alix and Philippe de Lauzanne and their family. The house also has a fascinating history from the first and second world wars, and the Armistice Museum is just a short drive away. Accomplished cook Alix’s gourmet evening meals and generous breakfasts are worth the stop alone. • Doubles €120 B&B, villaduchatelet.com

Hôtel Villa C, Bourges, Centre-Val de Loire

If you’re cutting through the heart of France, the city of Bourges makes an excellent pitstop, thanks to attractions such as its magnificent Gothic cathedral and timber-framed buildings. In the evening Les Nuits Lumière show, several of Bourges’ most beautiful buildings are lit in exquisite technicolour lights accompanied by stories from the most interesting periods in their history. The bijou Hôtel Villa C has just 12 modern bedrooms and its city-centre location makes it a great base. • Doubles from €95-160 room-only, hotelvillac.com

Le Bois Basalte, Manzat, Auvergne

A short drive from the motorway before Clermont-Ferrand, the architecturally striking, eco-friendly cabins at Le Bois Basalte offer a superb view of the Chaîne des Puys volcanoes and Auvergne countryside. The wooden cabins are basic yet very stylish and well equipped, making the most of the natural environment and views around them. Breakfast is delivered in a hamper to the door each morning, and if you have time for a hike before the onward journey, they can pack you a picnic too. • Cabins for two from €76-101, room-only, cabanes-auvergne.fr

Château de Creissels, Millau, Aveyron

One of the highlights of the A75 route is the incredible Millau Viaduct, an amazing feat of engineering designed by Norman Foster; it is the world’s tallest bridge at 343 metres (that’s 19 meters taller than the Eiffel Tower). Spanning the Tarn valley, it is close to the Grands Causses natural park, with its limestone cliffs, deep gorges and dense woodland. The Château des Creissels has an excellent vantage point from which to admire the bridge a little longer. It dates from the 12th century, has its own fairytale tower and 26 modern rooms, an excellent restaurant and a swimming pool, making it a fantastic pitstop. • Doubles from €86-112, room-only, chateau-de-creissels.com

ROUTE 4

Calais to south-east France, via Champagne and Burgundy

Villefranche-sur-mer, on the Côte d/Azur. Photograph: Getty Images

Hôtel Le Marius, Les Riceys, Champagne-Ardenne

Reims and Troyes make a good stopover en route down to south-east France, but for a more rustic champagne experience get off the beaten track in the Aube department, where family-run champagne vineyards sell delicious and very affordable fizz. Meanwhile, the village of Les Riceys is known for its unusual rosé wine. The Hôtel Le Marius is a fantastic little bolthole, with its own cavernous restaurant and bar. • Doubles from €65-95, room-only, hotel-le-marius.com

Le Cheval Blanc, Langres, Champagne-Ardenne

Although Langres’ mighty fortifications once saw off the English during the hundred years war, the town now provides a warm welcome to Brits motoring south. It makes for a brilliant 24-hour or even 48-hour stopover, with plenty to see and do: walk around 4km of ramparts; visit the beautifully curated Maison de Lumières, which celebrates the town’s famous philosopher son, Denis Diderot; and in July and August catch the nighttime street theatre. Stay at the three-star Hôtel Cheval Blanc, set in an ancient priory but where its 23 rooms are bright modern décor. There’s also an excellent restaurant. • Doubles around €75-110 room-only, hotel-langres.com

La Ferme de Marie-Eugénie, Bruailles, Burgundy

In the heart of the Bresse countryside, famous for its chickens and coq au vin, this bucolic farmhouse is the pride and joy of Marie-Eugénie Dupuy. Her welcome makes you feel like you’ve come home, while her delicious evening meals and generous breakfasts might tempt guests to cancel the onward journey altogether. There are five bedrooms, beautifully decorated in soft grey tones, some with four-poster beds. • Doubles €135 B&B year round, dinner €35pp, bnb.lafermedemarieeugenie.fr

Valsoyo, near Valence Drôme

Valsoyo, near Valence Drôme, France. from https://ift.tt/2M1RUGE Photograph: Valsoyo

You’d be forgiven for thinking you’d driven further than France on arrival at Valsoyo, for their kooky apartments celebrate worldwide destinations with decor themed around countries such as Mexico, Japan and Canada. And their wonky trapper cabins look like they were designed by children and are just as enchanting inside, with rustic features such as sinks sunk in an old wine barrel. There’s also a gypsy caravan. If staying more than one night, explore the dramatic Vercors Massif range, with its precipitous roads and mysterious caves. • Stays from €95-130 for two room-only (most rooms sleep up to four, valsoyo.com

For more articles on travelling in France by Carolyn Boyd, visit carolynboyd.net

Looking for a holiday with a difference? Browse Guardian Holidays to see a range of fantastic trips

The post French leave: fun places to stay on four routes to the south of France | Travel appeared first on Tripstations.

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larrietildeath · 8 years

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Fics

maps can be poems when you're on your own 18 k

“Harry, this is Louis, the guy I was telling you about,” Liam says. “Lou, this is Harry, my roommate.”

Harry looks up and locks eyes with Louis, who is very clearly drunk. Louis just giggles in surprise and claps a hand over his own mouth, widening his eyes at Harry comically.

“Nice to meet you,” Harry croaks, watching as Louis tucks himself more firmly into Liam’s side.

Or, Harry falls in love with the guy his best friend is fooling around with.

Dust on the road 18k

Louis is definitely fine and Lottie is definitely crushing on her French teacher, and these two things have nothing to do with each other. Except they do. And Louis is not fine.

walk on the ocean 26k

The boy smirked. “So we’re really playing it this way, huh?”

Louis didn’t miss a beat. “We can play it anyway you want darling.” He dragged a finger along the soft inside of the man’s inner arm, earning a shudder as his nail scraped lightly against the sensitive skin there. He liked that he made him do that, wanted to do it again.

The other man stared down at Louis and searched his eyes. “Yeah. Ok,” he finally said, grinning widely. “My name is Harry.”

**** Harry is an on the rise rock star. Louis is as far from the music scene as a famous producer's son can get. They meet and everything changes.

Le Ente en azur 26k

Hogwarts au

Fall at my door 29k

A-list actor Harry Styles and award-winning musician Louis Tomlinson have an acquaintances-with-benefits relationship, so whenever their busy professional lives happen to land them in the same city, they meet up. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.

And that’s all it is. Until it isn’t.

curtains, cataclysms, and constellations 30k

Harry doesn't understand the boy next door.

People don’t normally send surreptitious messages through the form of symbolic emotion and quick glances if they want to be left alone. Right?

No. His new neighbour is trying to say something to him.

(And if Harry decides to devote his entire summer to figuring him out, it will be a summer well spent.)

the devil you know 35k

Louis is a vampire. Harry is probably too curious for his own good.

you took my heart by surprise 39k

There is reason to believe Prince Harry’s life is in danger. After a failed kidnapping attempt, Louis is assigned to guard Harry around the clock. He is the best at what he does, but he has a tendency to not get along with clients. Louis and Harry start off on the wrong foot, but it soon becomes clear that neither is at all what the other expected.

Common 50k

Henry VIII ruined it for everybody. Now the king or queen can only marry a person chosen by the magic of the church, or disaster will befall Britain. Prince Louis, heir apparent to the British throne, dislikes most things about his inheritance--but most of all that it could keep him from finding the real love of his life.

somethin’ bout you 59k

Of all the government agents in the world, Louis had to go and land the most charming one.

Can’t hide it might as well embrace it 67k

Hogwarts professor AU

for now (and forever) 83k

It's nice that you want to offer that, but I just can't do that. First of all, it's illegal."

Louis shakes his head vigorously. "No, no. It's not like one of us is gunning for a visa."

"Listen to yourself," Harry laughs, shaking Louis' shoulders. "Don't you think it's a bit weird to con the country you're supposed to be serving?"

Louis is going into the Army, Harry is going nowhere, and there's nothing like a little identity fraud between friends.

pinkies never lie 83k

“I just think if we’re both into it and neither of us is looking for something serious, why not?” Harry asks, eyes soft and voice sweet. He pauses and gives Louis a moment or two to answer.

There are countless reasons why Louis shouldn’t agree to this, but in the end, none of them really matter. This will end with Louis in pieces, but he’s been in love with Harry for four years. There was only ever one answer.

“Yeah,” Louis answers finally, hoping his voice sounds normal. “Why not?”

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

collection

http://archiveofourown.org/collections/2017_hl_prompt_challenge/collections

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