✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓, 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ( a collection of various location prompts categorized by certain environments. feel free to adjust phrasing as desired. this prompt is likely to be updated in the future. )
[ 1. ] — URBAN :
the graffiti - scarred underpass of an old railway bridge, echoing with distant trains.
the fire escape of a towering high - rise, overlooking a vast grid of sleeping lights.
a forgotten alleyway behind a row of storefronts, bathed in the glow of a neon sign.
the window booth of a greasy diner, blurred city lights reflected in the glass.
a sheltered bus stop tagged with old stickers & graffiti, drenched in midnight rain.
a food cart on a busy street corner, steam rising into the cool night air.
a 24 - hour laundromat, fluorescent lights humming above rows of idle machines.
amidst the initial trickle of commuters through a sprawling subway station.
a park at the city's center, made up of grassy knolls & playground equipment.
the shadowed corridor of a parking garage, footsteps echoing in concrete silence.
the elevated walkway over a busy intersection, offering a bird's - eye view.
a vibrant street art mural on the side of a decaying brick building, alive with color.
[ 2. ] — RURAL :
a cramped stall within an empty stable, moonlight shining through the rafters.
a neglected orchard where wind - blown fruit rots beneath gnarled trees.
a winding gravel path leading all the way to a secluded farmhouse.
a field of wildflowers buzzing with bees, bordered by split - rail fencing.
a street temporarily shut down on behalf of a bustling farmer's market.
the sleepy main street of an eerie town, a single streetlight casting a warm glow.
a dry creek bed winding through brittle grass & sun-bleached stones.
a rickety wooden bridge arching over a narrow stream, frogs croaking all around.
a quiet paddock under bright starlight, farm animals peacefully grazing.
the middle of a deep, vast corn field under a brilliantly shining moon.
a dusty, unpaved road stretching endlessly through a landscape of rolling hills.
a yard sale with patrons trickling through beneath the hot sun.
[ 3. ] — NATURE :
a moss - covered trail leading deeper into a dense, mist-shrouded forest.
a windswept cliff overlooking a turbulent gray ocean, gulls crying overhead.
a secret lagoon with crystal blue waters & flourishing flora on all sides.
the shifting golden dunes of a vast beach, meeting the endless blue of the sea.
the banks of a swift, rocky river cutting through a vibrant forest.
a lodge / cabin in the middle of the woods, seemingly unoccupied for years.
a cluttered camping site deep in the middle of a national forest.
the edge of a marsh, thick with reeds & the distant calls of unseen birds.
the tranquil, glassy surface of a mountain lake reflecting a clear blue sky.
a hidden clearing bathed in dappled light, exuding the scent of damp earth.
a fork in the hiking trail, each path offering different adventures.
a foggy moor where the land rolls endlessly beneath a grey, heavy sky.
the deck of a cozy cottage bathed in sunlight & blooming flowers.
a grove of ancient trees, their roots exposed & twisted like veins in the earth.
[ 4. ] — SHOPS & ENTERTAINMENT :
a warm, dimly lit antique shop overflowing with forgotten treasures.
the too - cheery gift shop near the front entrance of a hospital.
a comic book store sporting bright posters & dozens of tradable goods.
amid long aisles lined with thrifted goods at the local consignment store.
a cluttered, cozy bookstore smelling of old paper & freshly brewed tea.
the incense-heavy interior of a well maintained smoke shop.
the warmth of a small-town bakery, pastries piled high in the display case.
backstage, the space cluttered with costumes, props, & nervous energy.
a shop in an unfamiliar country, every label written in a foreign language.
the chilled interior of an ice cream parlor offering refuge on a hot day.
under the harsh yellow lights of the only liquor store that was open at 2am.
a tourist - trap shop full of cheesy knick-knacks catered to travelers.
an unassuming corner shop concealing the entrance to an exclusive club.
a vibrant flower market overflowing with fragrant blooms & vendors' chatter.
under the flashing lights of a dance club, bass thrumming through the floor.
the hushed, reverent interior of a grand theater just before the curtain rises.
a pop - up carnival at night, rides whirling & distant screams mixing with music.
a karaoke lounge drenched in LED's, lyrics scrolling across a bright screen.
the rewards counter of an arcade, stacked wall-to-wall with countless prizes.
a classy high - rise rooftop bar with countless city lights sprawling beneath.
a brightly lit arcade alive with the sounds of chimes, explosions & laughter.
the neon - drenched interior of a retro - themed diner with a jukebox playing old hits.
a casino floor buzzing with noise; slot machines chiming, cards shuffling.
the open air of a summer music festival, crowd gathered under the twilight.
a classic, dimly lit bowling alley- the crash of pins echoing down the lanes.
the back row of a mostly - empty movie theatre right as the lights go dark.
I'm almost at the end of the setting prompts and after only, what... two-and-a-half months? Time sure is fake. Six down, one to go–and prompt fics numbers five and six are now up on AO3.
...
No Strangers to Convention (Future Perfect)
RWRB, rated T, 920 words. Post-canon. Traditions and reunions, sweet and soft.
Prompt: "a car park lit only by streetlamps"
Someday he'll pop the question, and hopefully Henry will say "yes." They'll vow to protect and care for one another, in sickness and in health, as long as they both shall live.
Right now, though, Alex's brain is preoccupied going two hundred miles per hour, way too fast for him to be able to concentrate on that sweet daydream.
And–right now, Alex is about to absolutely roast Henry for crimes against fashion.
That's mostly unrelated.
...
Soft Skills
RWRB, rated T, 900 words. Post-canon. Leaving the royal family: a more proactive approach.
Prompt: "a police station in a foreign country"
The chair he's sitting in squeaks obnoxiously when Alex leans over to whisper to Henry. "You know, if we had one more person on our side, we'd be a baseball team."
"More's the pity that we're in England, not America, I suppose."
"I don't know. If you were dead set on punching a fuckhead in the face, I think it's good you did it in England. I mean, your family must own all the dungeons here, right? When they lock you away, it'll be like home sweet home."
Thank you, Nico! 💝 For prompt 21, "a car park lit only by streetlamps."
RWRB, firstprince, post-canon, 920 words, reunions and traditions, soft and sweet.
...
If Alex is lucky, one day he'll get to marry Henry.
They don't need it to prove they love each other, of course not. Their relationship is already exactly what Alex wants it to be; a piece of paper signed by a couple of witnesses isn't going to change anything. Despite that, there are three very good reasons to get married: one, Alex loves a party, two, Alex loves giving the finger to closed-minded bigots, and three, Alex really, really fucking loves Henry.
Maybe it's sappy, but daydreaming about marrying Henry always calms him down. Every other path in Alex's life could lead him in so many unpredictable directions that it feels like the variables go on forever, like he'll never fully escape the anxiety and uncertainty no matter which choices he makes. In every iteration of his future, however, Henry is a constant: side by side with Alex, all the way to the end.
So, yeah. Someday he'll pop the question, and hopefully Henry will say "yes." They'll vow to protect and care for one another, in sickness and in health, as long as they both shall live.
Right now, though, Alex's brain is preoccupied going two hundred miles per hour, way too fast for him to be able to concentrate on that sweet daydream.
And–right now, Alex is about to absolutely roast Henry for crimes against fashion.
That's mostly unrelated.
"Holy shit, who held you up at knifepoint and made you wear that human rights violation masquerading as a tie?"
"Hello to you too, Alex. And here I thought you'd be pleased to see me."
"Seeing you requires the use of my corneas. That hate crime is going to burn them off. Come here."
The parking lot outside the fundraising venue is tiny. High concrete walls surround the rectangular space on three sides, with the building on the fourth enclosing it like a kind of courtyard. The gray garage door blends into the concrete. Two weak floodlamps leave a gap of darkness near the middle of the yard. It doesn't make any sense as a parking lot, even one for VIP guests.
The strangest part of the design is that because of how the building is oriented along the shore, Alex can hear the ocean on the other side of one of the walls. It's like being in a cement white noise machine. Or an empty, open-air contemporary art gallery.
Billionaires are so weird. Why wouldn't they put windows in the wall so they could see the ocean? Hell, why wouldn't they just build a garage and put a deck on top?
None of it really matters, though, it's just Alex's brain speeding along at a breakneck pace. The important thing is that he and Henry are the only ones in the parking lot right now.
As soon as Henry is within arm's length, Alex reaches out for him, prompting Henry to smile softly and lean forward.
Alex stops him with a palm on his chest, grabbing the knot of his tie.
"Alex, really," Henry protests.
"Of course I'm happy to see you, sweetheart, and I promise you I'll give you your 'hello' kiss in just a second, but I need to get this thing off you, first."
"It's not that bad–"
"No, it's worse. Whatever you're thinking, it's like, fifty times worse. Did you bring a back-up?"
"A back-up?"
"A spare. An extra tie."
"No, I–"
"Okay," Alex says, tugging the tie out and unfolding Henry's collar. "Here's the plan." He stuffs the hideous fabric in his jacket pocket and reaches up to unknot his own tie. "You're going to wear mine and I'm going to scandalize a few folks by going without."
"But–"
"Because I can get away with 'rakish' and you can't, that's why."
"Right."
Alex is mostly silent as he wraps his tie around Henry's neck and knots it. When he's done, he carefully folds down Henry's collar again and smooths it all out, settling the tie against his shirt placket. "There. You don't usually wear purple, I know, but your stylist is going to have to suck it up and deal just this once."
"I missed you terribly, love," Henry says quietly.
Alex takes a deep breath and runs his hand down the tie once more, then a third time, making sure it's perfect. He lets the air out of his lungs in a slow, measured exhale. It's fine. He's fine. "Me, too. I hated it. I missed you."
"Would you dance with me before we go in?"
"What?"
"It's my turn for a romantic gesture, I believe."
"Okay," Alex allows. "But it's not–I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's not a competition."
"No," Henry agrees, stepping closer. "Just a tradition."
When they're finally wrapped up in each other, swaying together in the dark at the center of the parking lot, Alex closes his eyes to concentrate. In one ear, he can hear Henry's heartbeat, familiar and reassuring. In the other, he hears the low, repetitive sound of the ocean on the other side of the courtyard wall.
With his eyes closed and Henry's arms wrapped around him, Alex's brain finally goes quiet. He takes another breath: easy in, easy out.
"Are you ready for that kiss now, love?"
In silent response, Alex opens his eyes and tilts his face up to meet Henry's.
...
About five minutes later, more or less, Alex finds out that Henry has an engagement ring in his pocket.
