#minimal public appearances because lord that's way too many people too many eyes being a figurehead is not his strongest suit

[canisalbus]

What do you think would have happened if (somehow, idk how but somehow) Machete rose to the rank of pope?

To be perfectly honest? I think most realistically he would've ruled maybe six months at best and then keeled over from stress and exhaustion.

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - xiv (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: When one threat is resolved, another makes presents itself. 

Warnings: character deaths, reference to sexual assault, ptsd, implied smut, shitty writing but we’re not gonna mention it ok, time jump!

Word Count: 2.7k

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

Confused, angry, annoyed murmurs filled the courtyard as people were ushered outside by the kingsguard. The summer sun had already risen and beat down unforgivingly on the crowd that began to form. An eerie feeling clung to the air – similar to the early morning sunrise when Sister Mary was beheaded. The people had not forgotten about the large army that gathered outside their castle gates this morning. They wondered in fear – had their king been overthrown? Or perhaps… the king was prepared to be a widow once more?

To their relief, King Steven stood at the platform. He was rather calm with his brows furrowed, lost in his thoughts. To their surprise, you weren’t dressed in the traditional execution black, nor were you cowering in the crowd in fear of your husband. Instead, their queen stood tall with her husband’s hand clasped in hers and a crown on her head, reminding them of who you were – reminding you of who you were: an angry queen seeking revenge.

The stoic expression on your face unsettled them. The last time you made a public appearance as queen was when you were struck by your husband. After then, the only time you had been relevant was when guards were storming the castle early in the morning in search of their runaway queen. Though they knew you were back and rested, they had expected your duties to be minimal – that you were to be hidden away, locked in the castle as a crowned prisoner.

They were wrong.

Behind you, stood your father, the invader from this morning. Though he did not seem to pose a threat to you or the king, his army was still sprawled out around the courtyard. Any attempt would be thwarted with ease with both Brooken and York standing together like this.

“Bring them forth,” Steven called out. The crescendo of the people’s chatter became louder and louder as the two criminals were finally revealed.

Brock Rumlow and Alexander Pierce trudged through the crowd, being led by guards. Shock was expressed on many noble’s faces. Confused muttering shook the crowd as they stared on at the two men who wore black.

“What is he doing?” “Has he finally lost his mind?” “That’s his cousin!” “That’s his father’s sister’s boy!” “Pierce has been an ally to the crown for decades!” “It’s the queen’s doing!” “She’s manipulating him.” “She’s made him a monster.” “No… He’s already been one for years.” “That’s his cousin, his father’s sister’s son!” “He wouldn’t dare.” “He’s a monster.”

The whispers didn’t stop. It felt as if the people were turning their back on Steven, losing hope, respect, and trust. He had yet to say a word that was heard by the crowd. Their mutterings became louder and louder, drowning him out, calling him a monster, saying he shouldn’t wear the crown. They called him mad and cruel, saying he lashed out – disguising his insanity and using treason as an excuse to blindly kill.

It wouldn’t stop. The vile accusations against him were deafening. You stared at the crowd, listening to every word spat out. It sounded like a long continuous scream.

The wails bringing you back to the violent sways of the boat. The nausea induced by the mercenary’s poor command of the boat. Seeing the man on top of Wanda. Hearing her screams of pain and pleads for help. The sticky blood on your hands as you stabbed him. You remembered the sharp shove he gave to your stomach – to your child. The ripping of your dress as he spat, “I should’ve raped you first” with his hands wrapped around your throat. The metallic taste of blood after Wanda slit the man’s throat open. You remembered her falling to the ground and the haunting lifeless look on her face. The terrible cramping pain in your stomach and the discomfort in your back. You remember the blood pooling underneath you as you lost your child.

Everything hitting you all at once. The anger. The hurt. The betrayal. The loss. It all spiraled together, morphing into one hideous feeling that you couldn’t describe. It bubbled in your throat, demanding to be let out.

“SILENCE!” You didn’t even recognize your own voice that bounced throughout the kingdom. It was so loud that you were sure your mother could’ve heard it in York. Maybe the true Mad King heard it from wherever he was.

The entire crowd fell into silence, surprised at your outburst. Steven looked over to you. His own frustration and anger melted into pure concern as he watched your shoulders rise and fall with every breath you took. He called your name but you didn’t hear it, basking in the silence as you wordlessly commanded the respect and attention of everyone in attendance.

Steven couldn’t help but smirk proudly at his queen as you stepped forward from your position, glaring at the crowd.

“You want to call your king a monster?” You asked them. “You have no idea what he has done to protect this kingdom… He has done nothing but protect each and every one of you. Whether the threat be my own father or foreign invaders,” you glared at the two bound men in black, “or lords who plot and conspire for his demise. He’s on the frontline of every battle when he could simply cower in the castle along with the rest of you. And you want to call him the monster?”

You gestured to the chained men. “Brock Rumlow and Alexander Pierce are the true monsters. They’re the shadows that lurk in the dark. Their the ghosts that haunt the castle. They prey on your fears, they isolate you, they manipulate you.”

You walked to the de-tongued Pierce, a shell of the noble he once was – thanks to your father. “Alexander Pierce brought King Steven two wives. Both from the same house. Both who have died. Everyone’s quick to tell the story that the king murdered his wives. They refused to give him an heir, so he ridded himself of their incompetency, right? I believed that story, too. But no one tells the truth of how Pierce deliberately chose wives of a house who swore allegiance to King Thanos.

“Brock Rumlow manipulated his way into my circle. He fed me lies of how Steven murdered his wives, confirmed untrue rumors – all to turn me against my own husband.” You looked over to Steven, who had a proud look on his face as he watched his wife take control of the situation. “I should’ve believed you, my love. For that, I am truly sorry.”

“These two men orchestrated to have me and my ladies murdered. They posted as people I could trust, promised me protection from a man they said was a threat. They arranged for my friends and I to be murdered on a boat. They hired a mercenary who rap – “you stopped yourself. The word had a foul taste that you could not stomach. “They hired a mercenary who murdered Lady Wanda Maximoff before my eyes. They’re responsible for the death of my child, the heir to Brooken.”

That fact alone stunned many. They were all quick to resent their queen because you had spent months childless… Little did they know they lost their heir they were so desperate to have.

“They’re monsters and if you cannot see that for yourselves, then you, too, will be on this platform next. Call me a killer. Call me ruthless. Call me the monster. I’ll accept it all. I’ve lost a friend and I’ve lost a child. And if their executions and your spiteful rumors are what I must pay for a moment of vengeance, then so be it.”

The crowd remained silent as they took in every word. They may never know what fact is and what is fiction, but everyone can agree that the hurt and the pain in your voice was completely genuine. No one could feign that type of grief.

Steven took a step forward, grabbing your hand and rubbing soothing circles onto the back of it. He brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles before turning towards the two men.

“We needn’t relive the torment you’ve brought upon my wife. You both are guilty of treason, and everyone knows it,” Steven told them, directly. “I, King Steven Rogers of Brooken, with the witnesses of my wife, Queen (Y/N) Rogers and King Anthony Stark of York, sentence you to death for your treason.”

Brock had called your name. He begged for his life. He begged for mercy. He stared into your eyes, pleading for a shred of empathy or compassion. He knew you had it in you – he saw it when you defended your friends fiercely, when you tried to stop your husband from executing the old crone. But he was met with angry, cold eyes as he heard his cousin call for his sword.

Pierce was the first to go. He was brought to the executioner’s block with no hassle – he did not fight. He knew when he had lost and he would lose with any dignity he had left. Steven’s blow was quick and neat. The head fell into the basket with a soft thud as the body was removed from the block.

Rumlow thrashed in the guards’ arms. He begged and he called for your name. He sputtered out apologizes for his crimes in hopes for any ounce of mercy that could be thrown his way.

“Stop.” You said before your husband could lift his sword. “Get him on his feet.”

“(Y/N).” Steven warned, but you repeated your order. The king sent you a weary look before gesturing for the guards to lift his cousin.

Steven watched as you marched over and gave Brock a kind smile. Relief flooded through Rumlow as you fixed the black collar of his shirt.

“You don’t deserve a fast death.” You told him. Though your voice was soft, it was heard throughout the eerily silent courtyard.

Before he could process your words, you gave a swift, deep cut to his throat with a dagger no one knew you were hiding. After the attempt on your life, you always ensured that you had some form of a weapon on your person.

He choked on his own blood as the crimson spurted out from the deep gash. You watched with little remorse as he fell to the ground, clawing at his neck. You didn’t shift your eyes away as you did when Sister Mary was beheaded. No. You wanted to see your enemies fall.

Once he laid lifeless on the platform, you turned and made your way off the platform and back into the castle.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Your farewells with your father were bittersweet and fast. You wished him safe travels as you gave him a sword – specially made for your little brother’s name day. You noticed the saddened look on your father’s face upon hearing Harvey’s name, but you decided not to press him about it.

You watched from the balcony as he and his army disappeared into the horizon. Your hands were still shaking – something you hadn’t thought would happen once you took Brock’s life. Though you have bathed – and re-bathed – immediately after the executions, your hands still felt sticky even if you only had a few splatters of blood on them.

You were too lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Steven slowly walk over to your position. You jumped when his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him as he pressed a kiss onto the crown of your head. “Are you alright?” He asked you. He noticed how you were still trembling.

“I killed him.” You said. “I looked him in his eyes and took his life.”

“If you weren’t shaking, I would ask myself if I had married a coldblooded killer.” He joked lightly, but you scoffed at him. He kissed your temple. “But I know you are not a murderer.”

“As I know you are not a monster.” You whispered. “I couldn’t stand there and listen to them whispering anymore,” you shook your head. “I do apologize for thinking such things.”

“You had reason to believe it. I do not blame you.”

“You should be angry.”

“I am not.” Steven assured. “I love you.”

“As I love you.” You responded, leaning into him. “Is it over? Is this unrest finally over?”

“It never is.” Steven sighed. “But now, everyone knows… They can’t turn us against each other. We stand together. King and Queen. We are a force to be reckoned with. We are taking strides to a brighter Brooken. Together.”

You smiled at the thought. You basked in Steven’s arms. The security the bring. The feeling of home.

You turned to face him and pulled him down for a kiss. Sweet and passionate. Lips melting together as if they had always belonged there. You pushed Steven backwards towards the room. He broke the kiss as he watched you close the balcony doors. You smiled at him before you cupped his jaw with your hands to reconnect the kiss.

You kept pushing and pushing until the back of Steven’s knees hit the back of the bed. He pulled away from you, combing the loose strands away from your face before placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “We needn’t do this if you aren’t ready.” He told you. He was afraid that his desire for you would overwhelm you. Though some time had passed since the incident, he did not want to make you feel pressured in any way.

You shook your head. You tried to bring his lips back to yours, but he thwarted your attempt. “Steven…” You whined.

He chuckled, cupping your face with his large hands. “You needn’t give me an heir… Not yet. Not if you’re not ready.”

“Steven…” you frowned. “I want this. I want you.”

He shook his head. “We don’t need an heir… Not yet. I am happy with just you.”

You groaned at him. “If we have a child this night or the next, it makes little difference to me. I’m not trying to have an heir. I want to make love to you because I love you.”

He smiled. That warm smile that sent butterflies to your stomach. He kissed your lips once. Twice. And a third kiss one from an eager husband ready to make love to his wife. 

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Six Months Later…

You let out an erotic moan, one that quite possibly awoke the entire castle. Not that you nor your husband minded as your hips rutted against his as you both came down from your highs. Exhausted, you slumped down to his chest and allowed his arms to wrap around you. He pressed a kiss to your glistening forehead as you both tried to catch your breaths.

“I love you.” You whispered.

“I love you, too.”

Three sharp knocks were stamped into the wood of your bedchamber’s doors. You and Steven frowned at one another. It was late at night, who could it be?

You quickly got off your husband and wrapped yourself in a robe as he did the same. He walked over to the door to find Lord Barnes, who was supposed to be vacationing in his chateau with his new wife, Lady Natasha. “What’s wrong, James?” Steven asked the obviously exhausted lord.

“Your majesties…” He said, winded. “There’s an emergency. Please. Come to the throne room now.” Steven asked for privacy so that you both may properly dress.

Your bare feet padded against the tiles as you hurried walked hand in hand with Steven. “What’s happened?” You asked Lord Barnes as he rounded the corner towards the throne room. When he didn’t answer, you asked again. He pushed the doors open and you gasped. “Mother?”

“Oh, my sweet child,” your mother sighed out in relief. She held baby Morgan in her hands, the infant had grown in your time away. You rushed to her side and gave her a hug, cooing at your baby sister who babbled happily as she recognized your voice.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Your husband asked.

“Always great to see you, Steve.” Your mother smiled.

“Pepper,” he greeted, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “As much as I find your company a delight, it’s in the middle of the night… It’s winter. Travel is rather troublesome in the north, even for a three-day journey.”

“Where’s father?” You asked. “And Harvey?”

Your mother sighed sadly. Your face dropping. You looked to Natasha who stood with her husband and the guards you recognized belonged to your father’s kingsguard. “What’s happened?” You asked.

“York’s been invaded by Thanos.”

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 5

I dropped my fork. “I’m sorry, I must have heard that wrong, because it sounded like you just asked me to become your employee.” Luke’s brow lifted.

“No, you heard it absolutely correctly. I did ask you to come work for me. For Prosper. Initially as Tom’s social media manager, and when that’s squared away, as Prosper’s social media director.” So many things I wanted to include in my reply instantaneously flooded my brain, but, as usual, it was miles ahead of my mouth and lord knew what would come out if I spoke. I decided taking another bite of my cannoli while they fell back in sync was the best course of action. Chewing slowly, I looked back and forth from Tom to Luke, then swallowed. I chose my words carefully, hoping to not be offensive.  

“Luke, I’m incredibly appreciative, but normally my role is to provide plans for social media managers and directors, which they in turn implement while working one-on-one with their clients. Direct client management isn’t really something I’ve done in a number of years, and I’m not sure it’s something I’m interested in, or even capable of doing again.” He fished some papers out of his bag and pushed them across the table.

“Anne Rice says you’re capable.” I snatched them up, holding in my hand a copy of my resume as well as an email from Anne, singing my praises. It appeared to have been sent earlier in the day. I laughed softly. Client testimonials were usually all anyone cared about, but I kept my resume posted on my website just in case. I didn’t think anyone had ever even looked at it, never mind taken the time to contact my former employers.

“Nice detective work, Luke. I’m impressed. But not only was that more than ten years ago, Anne doesn’t count. She has to say nice things…she’s a friend of the family.” He looked puzzled. “My parents owned a home right down the street from her in the Garden District of New Orleans. When she got wind of my new business venture she volunteered to be my guinea pig.”

Tom leaned forward, scrutinizing me skeptically. “You’re from New Orleans?” I nodded and slipped into an exaggerated southern drawl.

“Born and raised. Even rode on some Mardi Gras floats.” I shrugged and switched back to my regular dialect. “I never had a strong accent, and I’ve lived in New York nearly as long as I did in New Orleans, so it’s faded almost completely.”

Luke pointed his index finger at me. “You should know that not only did she reply to my email immediately, she gave me her number so we could speak. We talked for a good twenty minutes, and she told me she credits you with all of her social media success, including the idea for ‘People of the Page’.  She said you were the only one who managed to help her not only understand, but embrace the technology that allowed her to form deeper connections with her legion of fans. And, she wishes she could have held on to you forever, but she didn’t want to keep you from your dream.” He paused for a moment. I made no comment. “According to your resume, you’re also proficient in website design, graphic design and photography, which are additional assets you’d bring to the company. I’m assuming you do your own site?”

“Correct.” I opened my laptop, started Firefox, pulled up Prosper’s website and grimaced. “Who does yours? It’s…it’s…how do I do put this nicely?” I raised my eyes skyward in thought. “Nope, I can’t. It’s awful. You’re redirecting people to your social media instead of having an actual site. It’s all lowercase, and the italic version of your font is hard to read. There’s a generic, single email as a means of contact. I don’t see a phone number. And that black background…I just can’t even.”

Luke began rubbing his temples. “Admittedly, we’re lacking in that area at the moment.” I snorted. “Maude, this is exactly why I need you. As far as PR goes, I’m exceptionally motivated and skilled.” Tom coughed. Luke shot him a chastising look. “Quiet, you. I lighted out on my own because I know I have something unique to offer…genuine bespoke, personal publicity. What I didn’t account for is the amount of time and effort the social media aspect of it would require. Events, interviews, red carpets, networking, I can handle all of those things with very minimal assistance.” He frowned.

“Unfortunately, I’ve found that all too often I put social media on the back burner because I can’t keep up with it, and as a result I feel like I’m not delivering what I promised to my clients. A few months back I determined it was time to seek outside help, but not a single applicant met my expectations. You, however, exceed my expectations.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Luke, I always appreciate an ego boost, but let’s keep in mind that I didn’t apply for anything.” I put an elbow on the table and rested my chin in my hand. “I did agree to an initial consultation, and since you attended my seminar you know where things are supposed to go from there. Translation – not here.” I leaned back in the chair and linked my hands behind my head. “But, this is where we’ve ended up, and I would be remiss if I didn’t entertain your offer, however briefly. So, what the hell. Lay down the details. Especially the ones pertaining to compensation and benefits.”

************************************************ I stood staring out at the horizon as the waves hit my shins, wiggling my toes in the wet sand underneath the water. Finally, beach. Warm, breezy, sunny, quiet, beautiful beach.

After learning that Tom had no prior knowledge of Luke’s plan to hire someone as his social media manager, I excused myself so they could speak in private for as long they deemed necessary. That’s what I told them, anyway. In truth, I really just needed to get the hell out of there so I could attempt to process all this insanity… which I knew wasn’t even remotely possible until I was alone. Part of me hoped that ‘as long as they deemed necessary’ turned into several hours. Or days.

Luke had proposed an initial annual salary of one hundred thousand dollars while I was working with Tom, increasing to one hundred and twenty-five thousand upon assuming the role of Social Media Director of Prosper. I’d be issued a corporate credit card and expense account, and the company would cover all travel expenses. I currently grossed around forty thousand more than that a year on my own, but being stuck covering all my own travel costs made it a negligible difference. When I factored in the lack of income stability that goes hand-in-hand with self-employment, I’d probably come out ahead financially if I opted to accept the position.

When I pressed him to define my duties and responsibilities, he’d shaken his head and imparted that I was the expert, not him, and therefore I should implement whatever strategies I would have included if I had drawn up a proposal. Though I’d technically be an employee, he preferred that I handle everything on my own and retain complete creative control for the duration of my time as Tom’s personal social media manager. We’d step back and re-evaluate things when I was ready to take the directorial helm.

My spot near the water was becoming popular, with several children running amok carting floats, balls and a slew of other things ankle biters enjoy that destroy peace and solitude for the rest of us. I was walking to the opposite side of the property from Luke’s room where it was less crowded when the gravity of my situation overwhelmed me completely and began to literally pull me down. I sank to my knees on the sand, then tried to shift to a sitting positon as gracefully as possible and without flashing everyone on the beach. Again.

I rested my ass on the back of my calves, listed to one side using my arm as a support, lifted my hips a little, extended both legs at the same time, then pushed myself upright. Not pretty, I’m sure, but I had managed to keep my legs closed. I crossed them at the ankle just to be safe and began to mull over my options. “Okay, Maude. Crunch time. Don’t fuck this up.”

When I first started out, I loved every minute of my ‘job’ and had a burning desire to share my knowledge. Maude Gallagher, LLC was everything I had aspired to do and be. I ate, slept and breathed it like oxygen. I never stopped working, always a phone call or an email away from jumping on a plane. But over the past few years, it seemed that my interest in my own company was steadily waning. While I constantly updated my lectures, the material remained essentially the same and what I used to find fun had become work. Every proposal I presented to a client was unique, but at its core it was identical to all the rest. I still put forth 100%, and my ‘phoning it in’ was akin to someone else’s ‘gave it my all’, but something inside me had changed. What was once my life had become just a job, and that prompted me to consider that I might have missed out on actually living along the way. I kept on truckin’, as they say, because the money was so damn good and the idea of having a boss was horrifying after so many years of answering to no one but myself.

Now here I was, sitting on a beach in Kaua’i, wearing a dress and trying to ignore the sand working its way between my thighs, faced with the daunting task of deciding what the fuck I wanted to do with my life…keep running in place, monotonous but comfortably familiar? Or race off in a new direction, intriguing but entirely foreign?

My proposal for Luke would have advised him to have a website created, marketing materials designed, the existing social media accounts revamped and new platforms established with all of them monitored intensely. I also thought it best that Tom have his own photographer/videographer who’d travel with him to shoot on set, at events and in ‘normal’ situations when deemed permissible. He would have had to hire three or more individuals to meet these specifications, but if I signed on he’d only need me. When I thought of all the types of work involved, how it would be different every single day, that I could be creative again…there was no way I could deny that it sounded pretty fucking spectacular. But something was holding me back, making me hesitate instead of screaming ‘yes, I’ll take it!’…and that something was Tom. Though we’d just met a few short hours ago and I didn’t know him at all, I felt…well, I had no idea what it was, only that is was THERE and that it scared the living shit out of me.

************************************************ I was picking up handfuls of sand and watching it sift through my fingers over and over again when I noticed the long shadow to my left, growing ever closer. Khaki cargo pants followed. I looked up…and up…and up. The sun was almost directly behind us, bathing him in an ethereal glow. So, so beautiful. I licked my lips and wished he’d lose the T-shirt already. He squatted beside me, elbows on his knees.

“Hi.” The corner of his mouth curled in a half smile.

“Hey.” I wiped the remaining bits of sand on my dress. He gestured towards the ground.

“May I?” I nodded. He sat, crossing his legs Indian style, which I wouldn’t have believed possible if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. “Luke and I just finished chatting.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks for coming to let me know.” I started to get up, but he put a hand on my shoulder to stop me.

“I…erm…there are a few things I’d like to say before you go back to see him. If you don’t mind hearing me out, that is.” I shook my head.

“Nope. I don’t mind at all.” He ran his hands through his hair and met my gaze.

“Thank you, Maude.” He swallowed. It crossed my mind that he appeared nervous, but I dismissed it because I didn’t want to consider what that meant. I frowned, turning to look towards the ocean. I heard him inhale deeply.

“First, I want to apologize for losing control of my emotions and acting like a tit. My comment about social media being a waste of time and effort and doing nothing but spreading hate was uncalled for, and I in no way meant to devalue you or your work. All of the feelings I entombed broke loose and I’m so very sorry you had to bear witness to my little crackup.” I turned to look at him and patted his knee.

“No worries. Everybody loses their shit to some degree at one point or another.” He pointed at me, brow raised. “Yes, even me. But really, this was nothing. I once had a client scream ‘this mother fucking social media bullshit has ruined my fucking career and my cunt of a wife fucking left me and now I’m going to have to pay her a fuck ton of alimony and it’s all your fault, you stupid fucking fat piece of shit’ in my face.” Tom’s mouth was closed so tightly his lips were a tiny, thin line. “He was so inept that he accidentally posted a photo of his girlfriend sucking his cock across all his accounts instead of sending it directly to her phone. Best part was that he took the shot in the mirror so his face was clearly visible.”

He put his hand on mine. “Tell me who it was and I’ll happily beat the living shit out of him.”

“Thanks, but not necessary. I handled it. By slapping him three times. And telling him that if I ever heard even a whisper of him saying another derogatory thing about me I’d hunt him down, rip his nuts off with my bare hands and feed them to him for dinner.”

Tom’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “You did no such thing.” I laughed.

“Oh, but I did. And then I fired his sorry ass. And then his band fired his sorry ass. Last I heard he was broke and filing for bankruptcy. Karma, Thomas. She is indeed a wicked bitch.” Before I knew what was happening he leaned in and enveloped me in an embrace. Time came to a grinding halt and I was frozen in place. He rubbed my back for a moment and released me before I even had a chance to hug him back. He remained close, his face only inches from mine.

“Maude, you are an amazing woman. And absolutely beautiful.” I blinked. It was the only thing I was physically capable of doing. I considered telling him that being called fat was a common occurrence for me, though it did happen less now that I was a size 14 instead of a 24…and that it really never got under my skin. Because, fuck that. I had never been lacking in the self-esteem department no matter what the scale said. Or my mother said. I had just come to the conclusion that I’d save that particular tidbit for you know, never, when I felt something under my chin. It was Tom’s hand.

“Shit, sorry, I got lost there for a bit. Woolgathering.” He smirked as he slid his fingers and thumb along my jaw and slowly backed away. He put his hand over his heart.

“Second on my list of things to say… I’m afraid I have a confession to make.” I made a get on with it motion with my right hand. “Earlier, at Talk Story, my requesting you specifically to assist me may not have been entirely a happenstance of fate.” I raised an eyebrow.

“When I walked in, the desk was completely deserted so I wandered off to see if I could locate someone to help me. After coming out of a side room I glanced back at the desk, saw the lovely girls in their Loki shirts, realized they were all staff members, and admittedly panicked a bit. Not because they were fans, but because I had very little time and I knew they’d want a few moments with me and I just couldn’t squeeze it in. I’d worn the ugly shirt and cap so people would be less apt to recognize me for that very reason.”

I poked him in the chest. “You know you have to go back there, don’t you? That adorable girl Alani will die of heartbreak knowing that you were in the store and she didn’t get to meet you.” He grinned.

“I absolutely will. And I’ll ask for her by name. But, on with my confession. So, there I was, caught like the proverbial deer in headlights. And then I saw…you. You had two books in one hand, and a several spread out on a table. I heard your phone alarm go off, and I saw your lips move but couldn’t quite make out what you were saying. I watched you gather them up as if they were precious treasures, and I sneakily followed you as you returned them gently to their proper places. I saw someone with a very obvious love for books, who happened to be a gorgeous woman, a ray of light shining through the early morning fog.  It seemed logical that you were an employee, or perhaps the owner, but…here’s the confession part… I honestly didn’t care whether you were or not. I just had to meet you, and my book reservation was the perfect cover story in the event my logic was flawed. I hesitated when I was finally directly behind you, and when you turned around I almost lost my nerve, but when you looked into my eyes I knew it was now or never. ” He took a deep breath, and I noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. I reached out and took one in mine.

“I thought you may have recognized me, and was waiting for you to out me. I really was. Instead, you marched up to that desk, got my book and brought it to me even though you didn’t actually work there. You paid for the damn thing. And when you called me Indy, the fact that you not only picked up the reference but played along…” He shook his head and put his free hand on top of mine, sandwiching it between both of his.

“Which brings me to the third thing on my list of things to say. And it’s the last. On the street, when I said I wanted to find out who you were, and that I had never wanted to discover anything else quite so badly? I meant that, Maude. All the way down to the depths of my very soul.” I was speechless. Completely, utterly without words. He leaned in to meet my gaze.

“I don’t understand why, or how, or what the fuck it is exactly that I’m feeling…but what I AM certain of is that I’ve never felt it before and it’s glorious and incredible and terrifying all at once. And whether you decide to take the job or not, I still want to KNOW you, Maude. I NEED to know you.”

I smirked devilishly, hoping to add some levity to the situation so I wouldn’t totally freak the fuck out.

“Like, biblically?”

He threw back his head, laughing so loudly people down the beach turned to look our way. I started giggling, which turned into guffawing, and then the snorting started. He laughed even harder and soon enough we were both weeping and holding our sides, trying to catch our breath. I was wiping the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand when he whispered in my ear.

“Yes, Maude. Biblically. As often as humanly possible, preferably.” He pulled back so he could see my face, trying to analyze my expression to determine what I was thinking. I smiled softly.

“I want to know you too, Tom. In every way imaginable.” He grinned, then stood, offering me a hand up. I took it. “Let’s go see a man about a job, shall we?”

************************************************ Luke was overjoyed at my acceptance of his offer and after we all had a quick dinner he broke out the bottle of champagne he’d ordered. He placed a glass in front of me and began to pour. I held up my hand in protest.

“No thank you…none for me, please.” He cocked his head to the side. “Do you have any tea lying around? I’d love a cup if you do.” He went off to see what was in the kitchenette. Tom was pacing around outside, phone up to his ear, his free hand gesturing wildly. He’d just gotten word that Michael Keaton and J. K. Simmons had pulled out of Skull Island. I saw him tap the end call button and he walked back into the room just as Luke came in to tell me he hadn’t had any luck finding me some tea. He set the phone on the table.

“Well, it looks like the shoot’s been postponed until early 2016.” Luke shrugged.

“It happens, Tom. I wasn’t thrilled with either of them being cast, to be honest.” Tom sighed, then grinned at me.

“On the bright side, this gives us lots of time to get things up and running on the social media front.” I yawned. We still had a ton of details to work out as far as how we were going to proceed, but I was exhausted and needed some time alone to get in the zone for my two long days of seminars. Which would be my last, at least for a while. Knowing that felt…delightful, as much as it pained me to admit it.

“Gentlemen, I hate to be a party pooper, but I have two insane days coming up and need some rest so I don’t muck things up too badly.” They both awwweeed but I got up from my chair anyway, slinging my bag over my shoulder and picking up my shoes. “We’re still on for the museum’s hula class at five on Wednesday?”  

They nodded, and Tom rose from his chair, grinning like a fool. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. May I walk you to your room?”

I rolled my eyes. “If you must.”

He took my elbow and walked me to the door. “Oh, I must.”

I waved at Luke. “Goodnight, Luke…and thank you. If you need something, call.”

“Goodnight, Maude. And thank you. This is a game changer for Prosper, and I appreciate you being on board. I couldn’t make it happen otherwise.” He closed the door behind us.

Tom stopped out in the hallway. “Where is your room, exactly?” I headed for the stairs. We walked in silence, just basking in each others presence. I stopped in front of my room, found my keycard in my bag and opened the door. He pointed to the number.

“Oh, 203…you’re right above Luke.” I just stood there and watched his face, waiting for it to dawn on him. When it finally did, his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, finally spluttering “Right above. Luke. Your room. Is.”

It was my turn to grin like a fool. “Yes, yes it is. If you take another run in the morning you may want to look up periodically. You never know, I just might forget to close the balcony doors again.”  

[festiveboydanielhowells]

figuring things out (chapter 3)

Summary: Prince Daniel of Eithoia has been seeing Lord Philip in private for years, despite his marriage to Princess Isabella. Up until now, it was never an issue for the three to be together. No one anticipated for the Princess to have an urgent announcement, and now anticipated that it would impact Dan and Phil and their countries as much as it did.

Warnings: pregnancy, implied/referenced smut, mentions of violence, swearing, vomiting,

Tags: fluff, eventual smut, royalty AU, polyamory, pregnancy

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Eleventh of January Junestown, Intora

“Look,” Isabella points out of the window at a large cathedral-shaped building. “Have you ever seen something so beautiful?” He looks at her with a look of adoration, “The woman I married is a billion times more beautiful.” There’s a beat of her blushing, and then she smacks his arm with a resonating ‘slap!’ and Dan has to pretend that it didn’t hurt as much as it really did. “Dumb motherfucker. I hate you,” She says, and her tone’s spiteful but Dan knows that she means otherwise. He’s learned that her saying “I hate you” really means that she loves him (usually). “I love you too,” Dan leans his head down to rest on her shoulder as more buildings pass by through the window. “It is beautiful, though. Junestown is breathtaking. If we didn’t have to live in Kings I would’ve moved here decades ago.” “What a scandal!” Izzy feigns shock, “The Moody King prefers the capital of Intora over his own city.” She gives him a look before turning her attention towards the window again. “I think the medicine is wearing off, when can I take another one?” Dan checks his phone’s clock. “In about an hour. You should be able to take another pill before the ball starts, if all goes according to plan.” Should there be traffic, of course there will be, or any other delay, they’ll need to adjust the medicine schedule a bit. Dan isn’t sure whether Isabella would rather suffer in the car or at the end of the ball. Doctor Yuu had warned against overusing medications in case Izzy suffered from an ulcer. Dan assumes that an ulcer while pregnant would probably certify it as a bad pregnancy, so he’s done all in his power to keep his wife away from downing too many pain-killers. Isabella puts her forehead against the window and takes a breath. “You don’t seem too upbeat.” He nudges his head into the crook of her neck and she threads her fingers through his hair in a steadying motion, “Yea, just sort of anxious.” He mumbles softly against her shoulder. “Wish we could go home, don’t really want to talk to so many people.” She nods in understanding even though he has his head down. “I know. We’re going to eventually have to break the news,” She tells him. “You know, we could tell everyone here.” She points out. “It’s your choice, love.” He reminds her. “I’m not the pregnant one.” “Your mood says otherwise.” She pokes his nose playfully, causing him to recoil and bump his head against the back of the seat. Isabella laughs and puts a hand behind his head, “Oh, dear, are you okay? I heard a ‘thump’ from that, it couldn’t’ve felt good.” She pushes his hair around before deeming him healthy again, “Well, you look relatively put together. As much as you normally do, at least.” “Thank you, Doctor Howell,” He pecks her cheek. “Oh? Is this some sort of roleplay you’re into?” She jokes, “Your wife being your doctor?” She lowers her voice by an octave in an attempt to be sexy, but it just causes Dan to laugh and lean his head into the space between their seats and the driver’s seat. “What are you going to do?” He says through laughter, “Oh, Doctor Howell?” She moves her fingers in a “come closer” motion and he obliges. “Need a prostate exam?” She whispers giggling. “Oh my God,” He catches his breath, “I want a divorce.” “But then you’ll have to pay child support!” She tells him, and he waves his hand. “So? I’m the Prince, I’ll just make child support illegal.” He points out, and she rolls her eyes at him. “You’re going to get impeached.” “Good, then I’ll be able to spend more time with my wife and boyfriend.” “No, because I’ll have divorced you by then, so you’ll only spend time with Phil.” She points out. She takes a breath again, this time shakier than before. “You okay?” He asks, moving his head from her shoulder. “Erm, yea, just a little uncomfortable. Not in too much pain.” “Okay, love.” He says, but he knows that they have a long car ride to go.

Phil has anxiety. Not diagnosed, no, and he’s well aware that this is just basic run-of-the-mill anxiety, but he still feels like crawling into a ball and never coming out. He hates any sort of public appearance he has to make. It involves too much dressing up, too much pretending to care. At least he has the excuse of needing to talk to the King to dip out of the “fun” time, and there’s also the plus of his two most favorite people (three? Does the baby count?) being there. He’s been forced to wear a navy blue three-piece suit (“Isn’t this a bit too fancy? I mean, it’s about Martyn and Cornelia, not me.” He’d attempted to argue, but Julia had just shushed him and reminded him the Lord needs to be the second-best dressed.) “Julia?” He asks, and she emerges from his bathroom with cufflinks and a tie. “Can you roll up my sleeves?” He asks sheepishly, earning a laugh from her. “Oh my fucking God,” she laughs. “You’re so incompetent, how did you get born into a job that requires competency?” But she obliges, despite her bullying, and rolls Phil’s sleeves up. She places the cufflinks in and pats his shaking hands. “Hey, it’s like you said, this is about the future king, not you. You’re still allowed to fall into the background, okay?” She assures him. “If you need help or if you start panicking, just come to me; I’ll be at the desserts table or I’ll be floating around offering drinks.” He pulls her into a weak hug and lets a tear fall down his face. “I don’t want to do this. You know how much I hate this,” He tells her. “I know, honey, but Daniel and Isabella will be there. You can talk to your father with them, you know? They might even announce the pregnancy here.” He lets out a half-hearted laugh and begins to tie his tie around his neck. “They’ve never been the type of people to have announcements. They’ll probably just slip the baby into conversation casually.” He explains. “Dan thinks that announcements are only for the people that you love.” “I’ll never get used to you calling them Dan and Izzy.” She laughs, but her eyes look a little sad. “If you move to Steeple with them, promise me you won’t forget about me?” She asks him. “Of course not, I’m taking you with me.” He says with certainty. “They wouldn’t let you.” “You underestimate how much I have that boy wrapped around my finger.” He points out and straightens his tie. “Okay, boy, now go out there and ‘woo’ your partners.” He pulls her into a hug. “And if anything happens,” she winks exaggeratedly, “you’ll tell me about it, right?” He blushes, but nods.

Izzy, for the first time since she got the two lines on the stick, wants to drink. She didn’t anticipate how it would feel to be sober around politicians of bigger countries. “If I get approached by one more member of the Intora advisory asking if I want to talk about ‘recent events’ I’ll fling my body into the chandelier and then the sun.” She threatens into Dan’s ear, and he nods. “Fucking go for it.” He’s holding a glass of water, he doesn’t want to drink if Izzy can’t drink, “I want to murder the Arch Duke Kieran. He asked if I would like to ‘confirm the rumors’. Like, damn, bitch, which rumors? There’s too many involving me.” He leans over and pecks her lips, earning her to groan. “I just put on my lipstick,” She said, and Dan pouts. “You have lipstick on you.” “Oh? Do I look good?” He winks at her, and she raises her middle finger to him under the table. “God, most of these couples are too fake.” He points out. “How many of them were arranged marriages?” “We were arranged,” She points out, and he waves his hand. “Yea but we were arranged because our mums saw us and were like, ‘ooh they want to get down’ and then decided to set us up.” He fires back. “We weren’t really engaged until I proposed, so it’s not like it was completely forced on us. It was more like a ‘suggested marriage’ and not an arranged marriage.” “You’re not wrong.” She agrees. At the moment, how fucking convenient, a maid comes up and offers them both champagne. Isabella is sure that they terrified her by their in-sync groans of frustration and then equally in-sync exclamations of, “God, no.” “We really live up to the Etithoian stereotype.” Izzy points out. “One, no we don’t, neither of us have killed anyone, and two, you’re Menian, not Etithoian.” He says the last part with sass as if to say that he’s the more official Etithoian. “Well, I just meant because we show our love through being assholes.” She pointed out. “We also cuss way too much for any other royal party.” “Are you sure? Because I’ve heard Phil speak and the boy has a mouth.” Dan points out. “Speak of the devil,” He gestures to wear Phil is making his way towards them. Every other royal party has decided to dress to the Heavens. But Phil is something else, he’s dressed for Jesus Himself and suddenly Dan feels as if his black slacks are a little too tight for him. Phil is beautiful, that’s the only way to describe it. His (dyed) black hair is pushed back into a neatly-styled quiff and his thick-rimmed glasses sit on the bridge of his nose and framing his bright blue eyes. Dan distinctly recognizes that Phil has applied minimal makeup and he wants to compliment every inch of him. His navy-blue suit is ironed to a crisp and dear God, would it be wrong for Dan to drag Phil to bed right this instant? Isabella speaks what they’re both thinking, “Holy fuck, how did we ever get this lucky?” And Dan just shakes his head in disbelief. Them getting together was completely accidental but fuck if that wasn’t the best accident they’d ever made, because now Dan has two of the prettiest people ever by his side. “Hi,” Phil says sheepishly. “You look,” Dan takes a breath, “fucking amazing.” “Beautiful,” Isabella supplies. “Angelic, even.” Phil blushes and looks down at his shoes, “Thanks, I didn’t want to wear all of this but Julia forced me to.” “Julia?” Dan asks and tilts his head to the side. “Oh! Julia, she’s my new personal maid. She’s super nice, but she told me I’d look great like this so I just sort of went with it.” “Well, we’re glad you did.” Isabella says happily, and she puts her hand on her stomach, rubbing circles onto her baby bump. “Laurie’s moving.” She tells them. “You can sort of feel it if you put your hand,” she takes Phil’s hand and puts it over her bellybutton, “right here.” Phil makes a face of surprise and then breaks into a smile, “Oh my God,” he says happily. “You can feel her moving around. It’s so weird but so cool. Dan, come here.” Dan humors Phil and places his hand where Phil’s was before and feels a little bump under his hand. “What was that? Is the baby kicking or is it just moving?” He asks, confused. Isabella shrugs. “I don’t know, this is the first time I’ve been able to feel it from outside of my stomach. Most of the time where she moves it’s just like a sinking feeling.” She explains, and a butler comes up to offer them all drinks, and they all decline, albeit, politer this time. Phil takes a sip of Dan’s water, earning a shove from Dan. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.” He sympathizes. “But in, what, seven months we’ll have a little one.” “We have to get married soon,” Dan says. “Unless you want to live at our palace while were engaged? I’m just thinking about making sure wedding dresses fit,” he shoots a look at Isabella’s belly, “and making sure the baby will get to see their papa. I read somewhere—” “Jesus Christ, you read everything somewhere.” Izzy mutters, and Dan ignores her. “—That the baby recognizes the voices it heard while in the womb. They’ll know who you are from your voice, but in order to keep that recognition they have to be exposed to your voice often.” “I think we need to get engaged before we can really plan our wedding,” Phil supplies, and he goes through his phone while they begin to chat about useless and meaningless things. They talk about their day, how much they’ve all missed each other, and names for the baby (although Isabella is dead set on Laurie). Another royal, Dan distinctly recognizes him as an Arch Duke of something, interrupts their conversation. “Princess Isabella, I heard that you’re not drinking alcohol.” He states slyly, and Dan resists the urge to deck him. The way he states it is so slimy as if the confirmation that she’s pregnant is something bad. “Oh, yea. Doctor Yuu said that I could drink some without harming the baby this early on, but I don’t want to risk it.” She says simply and continues to type something into her phone. “Baby?” He asks, still as slimy as ever. “Yea, baby. Didn’t you know that we’re expecting?” She says simply. “Aren’t you a little young to be having kids? I mean,” Dan can tell he’s about to say something shitty, “Lord Philip is nearly thirty-one and isn’t even in a relationship.” “Actually,” Phil says, which startles Dan a bit. “I am, in fact, in a relationship. With two of the best people I know.” “Two?” The ruler asks in such an annoying voice that Dan wants to rip his own ears off. “Who are these people? Is it going to end in an engagement?” “You’re speaking to both of them,” Dan supplies simply, and the Slimy Son-of-a-Bitch looks uncomfortable and recoils slightly at Dan’s harsh tone. “Oh. An Etithoian. I always expected better from the Intoran Lord.” He says with exaggerated disgust. Dan ignores the statement and looks over Isabella’s shoulder to see what she’s typing into her phone. In the notes app, she’s written, “I’m gonna break that son of a bitch’s fuckin face,” and Dan stifles a laugh. “What’s so funny, Prince Daniel?” The ruler asks with fake sincerity. “My wife is hilarious, is all.” He supplies, and kisses her cheek lovingly. She gives him a look, but plays along with the affection. They’ve never been huge on PDA, if they show affection they do it for each other and not to show off, but Dan really hates this man, so she plays along with it. “Philly, come look at what Izzy’s written.” Phil leans his head over Dan’s shoulder and Isabella quickly writes in her notes app, “just play along with the PDA babe.” “That’s hilarious Izzy,” He gives her a peck on the cheek, too. It feels a bit uncomfortable, and he’s sure someone got a picture and will post that in a tabloid tomorrow morning, but he hates the man who just waltzed over so he’ll out himself to spite him. It’s not like it’ll be a shock to anyone, anyways. They’re interrupted by the King making a toast to the crown prince and his fiancé. He tells the story about how they met, though it’s common knowledge between the three royals. Martyn had been a regular at a coffee shop that Cornelia worked at and eventually, he asked her out after she had accused him of only visiting on Tuesdays so that he could see her. Of course, the rest is history: they fell in love and eventually, Cornelia (what a twist) proposed to Martyn, and Martyn had said yes. Phil isn’t sure whether or not he imagines the sideways glance that his father gives him, but then he remembers that he’s still practically cuddling with Dan and Izzy, and quickly moves away as if he’s been burnt. Dan gives him a puzzled look but doesn’t question it too much. The rest of the night goes by without too much of a hitch; they wish Martyn and Cornelia a good engagement and marriage and they both thank them back and take seats at the table. “So,” Martyn begins. “These are the people my baby brother is absolutely enamored with.” Phil nearly chokes on Dan’s water at that statement, but he finishes the glass instead. “Oh, Daniel, I finished your water, I’ll go get you more.” And before anyone can argue, he’s up and gone from the table. Dan wants to die, he’s mortified. The only times he’s met Martyn were when he was little and Martyn was forced to babysit him and Phil. God, he hopes Martyn doesn’t remember what embarrassing children they all were. “He really likes you,” Martyn states, “both of you.” They manage a nervous nod, and Dan grasps Izzy’s hand in his own under the table. “I know about the baby,” Martyn says simply. “News spreads fast no matter now secretive on can try to be. Phil is scared about being a father, and you might not see it, but he’s anxious that this child won’t like him.” “Laurie will like him,” Izzy states simply. “He doesn’t know that.” Martyn says. “What I’m telling you is to be gentle on him, okay? He wants whatever you guys have to stay good, and I don’t want you to be angry with him over something he can’t help. I’ve seen you all grow up and I know how close you’ve all grown, okay? Don’t break that.” Then he leans back in his chair, and the mood lightens as Phil sits down again. “So, what’s the name list for the future heir?” “Laurie,” Isabella says. “And Anna, David, James, and Jordan,” Dan says quickly. “Isabella is just caught up on the name Laura, and she certain that the baby is a girl.” “The baby is a girl.” Isabella shoots back. “I never said it wasn’t, dear,” Dan points out. Cornelia laughs. “You’re both so young for kids, though. Are you ready?” “We’ve been married for seven years,” Dan points out. “I think we’re pretty ready for kids.” “We’re going on eight years in March,” Isabella says, and Dan looks at her lovingly. “That’s so long, you both were married young,” Cornelia says. “Was it a betrothal?” “Well, er,” Dan makes a face, “Sort of? Not really, no.” Cornelia doesn’t look like she’s buying it. “So you just decided to get married at eighteen?” “Well, I was nineteen.” Isabella provides unhelpfully. “We’d been best friends since we were little, and our mums knew how much we loved each other so they sort of, um, suggested it. It wasn’t a forced marriage, it was a suggested marriage.” He explains. “I’m glad they talked us into it, though, she’s my best friend, besides Phil.” “I like that I’m an afterthought,” Phil says, and Dan sticks his tongue out in retaliation. “Listen, old man, can’t I admire Isabella for a second without you getting all jealous? You know I love you, too.” Dan snarks back. “How did all three of you meet?” Cornelia asks, and all of these questions are starting to make Dan really crave a drink. Phil answers this one, “We had grown up together.” He says simply. “No, but like, all three of you. You obviously have a strong bond but how did you figure out all three of you liked each other?” She asks. “Honest answer or sugar coated?” Dan asks, and he takes a drink of the water cup Phil has brought them. “Honest.” She says. “Martyn, you’re not allowed to ever use this information against Philip. I forbid it.” She tells him, and he rolls his eyes. “We um, er, threesomes,” Dan said, but it came out like a question. Cornelia laughs, “Oh my God, threesome? You just all had sex one day and figured out you liked each other? That’s hilarious, I thought that the Etithoian stereotype was fake but apparently it’s not.” “No, it’s real,” Dan assures her. The five spend the rest of the night talking, and eventually, Martyn and Cornelia move on to other tables and they continue to chat and hang onto each other’s every word.

It isn’t until people begin to drunkenly be escorted out of the party that the King of Intora approaches them with a smile and kind eyes. “Hello, Prince Daniel,” He greets and Dan stands up to bow. “Princess Isabella,” she also stands to the King and curtsies, “Son,” Phil waves. “Hi, dad.” The King pulls up a chair and sits across from them. “Did you have a good time at the party?” They all nod. “I think they’re a lovely couple, truly.” “Of course, Sir. They’re truly meant to be.” Dan says. “Oh, please, Daniel,” The King says and Dan stiffens. “We’re equals, aren’t we? Different titles, yes, but you and I are both rulers.” Dan relaxes. “I’m sorry…” “Nigel,” He supplies. “I’m sorry, Nigel.” Dan apologizes. “So,” the King… Nigel, says, “What’s with this baby I hear about?” Isabella takes the answer. “Daniel and I are expecting a baby.” She says sweetly. “Congratulations! When’s your due date?” Nigel asks. “Sometime in July,” She says, “We’re hoping it’s a girl.” “You’re hoping it’s a girl,” Dan corrects. “I’m happy with whatever our baby is.” “And is the wedding happening before or after the baby is born?” Nigel asks. “I’m sorry, what?” Daniel asks. “Oh, did I misread the situation? I was certain that the three of you were planning a wedding.” Nigel sounds disappointed, and Phil speaks up. “You didn’t misread the situation, Dan’s just stupid,” Phil assures his father, and his father smiles at him. “Oh, son, you have no idea how happy I am for you.” Nigel says, and he tears up a bit. “I’m sure your mother is proud of you, too. Kath always wanted you to find love; she always thought that it would take a while, but it would happen.” “Mum…” Phil feels his throat close up a bit. “Mum would be proud of Martyn, too, right? She would’ve been proud of both of us.” “She would’ve, don’t worry.” His father comforts him. “Now, when is the wedding? Before the birth? After? He will be marrying into the Howell royal family, correct?” “I mean it’s up to—” Dan begins, but Nigel cuts him off. “Daniel. King to King, tell me to my face that it would be even remotely possible for you to marry into the Lester family without combining our kingdoms.” Nigel then sighs, dramatically. “I do refuse to join our countries, Daniel. As much as our trading has always been excellent, we aren’t even allies. One step at a time to breaking the stigma of our countries, correct?” “The stigma around Etithoia is true,” Dan states simply. “There isn’t one good thing about it, if I’m being quite honest.” “But that’s why you’re there. You’re meant to fix it.” Nigel says, and then stands. “You’re a young ruler, Daniel. You’ve got room to grow, and thus far your life has been laid out on a page for you. I’ll allow you all to think about the details of the wedding, the only thing I ask is that it not take the attention away from Martyn and Cornelia. Phil never did like the spotlight.” With that, the King exits and all three of them relax in their chairs. “Bullet fucking dodged.” Dan breathes out. “Come on, I think it’s bedtime,” Phil says, standing up and brushing off his slightly crumpled suit. Isabella is grateful Dan made them pack an overnight bag just in case they didn’t want to drive home so late. “Dan and I have overnight bags in the car, and we’ll need to give our chauffeur permission to leave,” she says, “but then we’ll meet you upstairs, okay?” Phil nods and kisses them both before the split ways.

When Dan and Izzy come to Phil’s room hand-in-hand, he’s already changed into a nightshirt and his pants and is in bed scrolling through things on his phone. Dan and Izzy both change into their night clothing and brush their teeth and faces before crawling into bed with Phil. Phil turns off the lights and crawls back into bed with them, giving Dan a kiss on the lips. Dan manages to deepen the kiss and nibble on his lower lip, eliciting a moan from Phil. Phil lets his mouth open into the kiss, and Dan takes the opportunity to explore his mouth with his tongue. Phil’s certain that boy men wouldn’t be against going further, but Isabella says, “Boys!” and they break apart quickly and hold Izzy instead. In the darkness, Phil swears to God that he sees something move past the window, but he’s too tired to think it’s anything other than a light shining in through the window causing a shadow. So instead of mentioning it, he lets himself be lulled to sleep, thinking of the people he’s sleeping next to.

[authors-dumpster]

Chit-Chat

The morning air was crisp, as it usually is in the Vatican City when Autumn rolls around. Gabriel liked it that way. From the ledge of a high window in a chapel, he could see the day-goers, the tourists, the old reverend couples paying a visit, the worshippers, and the vendors. He didn’t mind the variety of people streaming into the city so frequently; actually, he encouraged it. To Gabriel, any visitor of the Vatican City was sent by the Lord, and so they were meant to be there, as they were welcome. What Gabriel didn’t like, however, was the frequency with which he was chased by cats, dogs, and little kids. Acting as a peace dove of the Pope was not particularly hard, but it was the job given to Gabriel when he was deployed to Earth by God, so he had to obey. He wished, sometimes, that he could return to heaven, but an Angel must be obedient. Obedient Angels do not wish for anything for themselves. Especially not Archangels, who are the Lord’s highest ranking warriors. Gabriel remembered what happened to Lucifer when he went off wishing for things.

Most days were quite uneventful. Gabriel would perch up high with his brothers and sisters, watching the crowds, send messages to siblings deployed elsewhere, and report back to Heaven. He was a Messenger and Archangel of God, after all. Once in a while, Gabriel would be a part of a ceremony, but they were quick and painless. Although, he did wish that his handler would be a little gentler when he gets tossed into the air, but so far nothing terrible has happened, so he can't really complain. That is, until Alistar showed up. In the morning, when Gabriel was on the morning headcount shift, everything that could have went wrong, did go wrong.

Gabriel always knew that it wasn’t only Angels sent to the Earth to do their duties; he had heard of the many Demon attacks, fights, and tensions that exist, especially within the Vatican City. Recently, he and his siblings have been investigating a series of attacks on the Holy City. They suspect it to be some force from Hell. Sent by whom, they do not yet know. They suspect some high-ranking Demon ordering some humilitatem to do the dirty work. Demons have been attempting to penetrate the walls of the Vatican for centuries, but they have been unsuccessful. This, too has changed. Demons are becoming bolder with their attacks, and have been striking the Angels positioned outside of the city. They all share something similar that has lead to a conclusion: Angels are disappearing; being taken to a place “off the grid”, as Michael- Gabriel’s fellow Archangel- put it.

However, Gabriel had never imagined that such a thing could happen to him- never in his 94 years on Earth has he ever been attacked by a Demon, until a month ago. He’d had his fair share fighting them, but had never been attacked. Gabriel was doing his job, as was expected of him, when he suddenly heard an awful noise, and smelt something toxic. There’s a myth that demons smell like sulfur, or rotten eggs, which is why Gabriel was so taken aback. What Gabriel smelled was not, in fact, sulfur, but tobacco. He turned around on his ledge to find the source, when suddenly a dark shadow came upon him, and then he was falling backwards through an open window.

Gabriel was so shocked, in fact, that he was paralyzed until he hit the hard, rocky floor of a secluded prayer room closed off to the public. Disoriented, Gabriel quickly got to his feet. On his way to the ground, he had changed shape to his natural form. Luckily, there were no humans in this room, so there were no issues yet. For if a mortal lays eyes on such a divine being, his Father says so often, they will be obliterated. Such awesomeness cannot be fathomed by any mortal, so it is pertinent that the True Form is concealed. An Angel must protect Humanity. In a human’s terms, Gabriel stood at about eight feet tall. His skin was dark, like the oil humans put in their machines. His hair was long, wavy, and golden like rays of sunlight. All Angels’ eyes were a white-gold colour, for they are all-seeing soldiers of the Lord. Gabriel wore minimal armor; he was agile and swift-footed, so he needed protection that was lightweight and allowed for much movement. His weapon of choice was a broadsword, but he was skilled with a bow and a spear, if necessary. His wings were dark grey, like the storm clouds that come in and cause the structures of the Vatican City to shudder. Gabriel took great pride in his wings; an Angel of the Lord cannot fly without their wings.

The room he landed in was dark, full of creeping shadows, but this was no issue for Gabriel. He looked at the old wooden kneeler, rotting from neglect and misuse. There was a faded fresco on the wall, the humans depicted were repenting while kneeling to God, asking for forgiveness for something that they did. The wall itself had massive chunks missing, making the fresco incomplete. The ceiling was giving away, and there were massive holes in the ground; from what or whom, Gabriel did not know. His attention, however, was very quickly caught by a dark figure leaning against the kneeler. Again, he could smell tobacco coming from the figure’s direction. Demon.

“Who are you, intruder?” Gabriel said, reaching back for his broadsword.

“Who are you?” The intruder replied in a mocking tone.

“I asked you first. Speak now, before I smite you. This is holy ground, and your kind is forbidden here. Step into the light, Demon,” the Angel demanded.

“Very poetic, Angel-face. Smite me if you want, but I’ll be back soon enough. Alistar’s the name. Pissing off your kind is my game.” The Demon, Alistar, took steps towards Gabriel until he was just out of reach of the Angel blade. He appeared as a human businessman, but with very good and expensive style. He wore a navy suit with a crisp, white button-down dress shirt under his suit coat that shimmered in the sun patch he was standing in. He stood tall, but not as tall as Gabriel- maybe about seven feet tall in human terms. Gabriel could see dark markings on the Demon’s chest that peeked out from his dress shirt. Why the Demon was not revealing his true form in entirety was suspicious to Gabriel. He would have to inquire about this, if he could first silence the damned thing for long enough to ask.

“How did you enter the Holy City? Demons are forbidden. You are trespassing on the Lord’s ground. Who se-”

“I’m gonna save you some divine breath and stop you there, bud. You Angels are so official and serious. It’s the 21st century for fuck’s sake! Stop talking like Jesus died last week! It gives me a headache,” Alistar put his long, white fingers up to his pale face and mockingly rubbed his temples.

“As if a Demon could even get a headache. You cursed beings may be deserving of such troubles, but I know that you are not prone to mortal ailments. Stop acting foolish and answer me, or prepare to return to Hell,” Gabriel drew his sword back, preparing for a fatal strike. Towering over the pompous creature, Gabriel saw a flicker of fear in that handsome face.

“Wait, hold on just a minute! No need to be so trigger happy! I’m just here to talk! I’m not even armed, you can’t strike me!” Alistar put his arms over his chest and leaned away from Gabriel, taking steps back.

Gabriel lowered his blade to Alistar’s chest, ready to run him through. He was becoming aggravated because of this Demon. Gabriel did not know why he had not killed the Hellion yet. Perhaps his curiosity (or whatever humans called it) was getting the better of him. Regardless, he put malice in his voice. “Those are mortal rules from across the ocean. This is the Vatican City. We are immortals, you stupid Demon. It seems that your arrogance is clouding your memory. I have every opportunity to strike you where you stand, but your foolishness is amusing me. However, I am growing bored very quickly, so I think it is time to crack on.”

Gabriel raised his sword again to strike, eyes blazing with intent and power, and swung down hard against Alistar’s chest. But the Angel felt no contact. The Demon was gone, dissolved into the shadows. Feeling even more aggravated, Gabriel looked around quickly, and listened hard. This was not his first encounter with a slippery Demon, and it certainly would not be his last. But they never got away in the end, Gabriel made sure of that. He looked up towards the ceiling of the prayer room, and there was the Demon scum, climbing swiftly towards the window they had fallen through.

“Fine. If it is a game you desire, then a game you shall receive. Prepare yourself, Demon! I know this city better than any of my siblings. You will not escape.” Gabriel bent his knees, centered his energy, and jumped into the air, his stormy wings spreading to their full length. Just as he landed on the ledge of the window, Gabriel changed his form back to a white dove. Protect humanity. Keep out the Demons. Defend the Holy City. Watch over the Pope. Those were the requirements for an Angel stationed in this city. Gabriel was obedient and able.

Alistar scrambled out of the window and he, too, changed shape. Not to a dove, no. He changed to something more sinister: a large Raven. It was commonplace for Demons to take the form of a Raven when they were near mortals, but not mandatory like it was for Angels. It was well beyond dusk when Gabriel quickly surveyed the city. Father, Gabriel looked towards the Heavens, where has our Light gone? How much time had passed in that prayer room? There is something highly suspicious about this Demon.

“Okay, Mr. Archangel. Gimme a moment,” Alistar hopped around on a ledge of a window about three feet away. His dark feathers glinted in the dying sunlight. “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to talk, and maybe we can make a deal.”

“Angels do not make deals with Hellions such as yourself! Such an idea is an act of heresy! It is disgraceful! I am an Angel of the Lord. Why would I even consider such an offer?”

“Would you believe me if I said you look particularly conversational today?”

“ENOUGH!”

The sun had disappeared beyond the buildings of Rome, which meant two things for Gabriel. One, he could shift back to natural form, as the city would be generally deserted at such an hour, so less risk of harm to humans. Two, Alistar would have a fairly hard time navigating the city with a fully-fledged Angel on his heels. Gabriel flew up several feet, quickly changed form, and landed on the ledge right next to Alistar.

The Angel swiftly drew his sword and said, “You have been entertaining, Demon, but now you must die.”

Alistar, still in Raven form, only cawed before taking off in flight towards an empty plaza. Gabriel dove after him, eyes blazing. Oh, how an Angel loves the chase.

~

“Cease this foolishness, Alistar! The outcome of this chase is obvious. I will admit that you have fought bravely, but you can resist me no longer. Look, now, at your wounds, and tell me if you wish to continue.”

It was true that Alistar had evaded Gabriel for some time, but he was no better at defending himself than an infant in the wild. Gabriel had not held back; he sliced and struck the Demon with his broadsword countless times. Alistar had changed to his true form shortly after the chase had begun, but Gabriel must have missed that transition. He took the time now to survey his work on the Demon, as he waited for a response.

Alistar was still a foot shorter than Gabriel, but most of his appearance had changed from his previous “rich businessman” look. Alistar’s skin was even more pale, to a point that it appeared blue. His hair was a deep black colour, shoulder length, and as straight as a needle. It fell into his eyes as he collected himself, thinking of what to say. His eyes were completely red, except for a black rectangle in the middle that resembled a goat’s eye, as were all Demons’ eyes. He too wore minimal armor, fit for agility. Alistar’s ears were pointed, and had clawed hands, like all Demons. His face was composed of sharp angles, similar to Gabriel’s; it was a sign of divinity. Gabriel was disappointed to note another similarity between them: bare feet.

“By all means, Demon, gather your thoughts at a glacial pace. You have hopefully learned how such a thing thrills me.”

Alistar flashed his pointed teeth as he snarled and jumped forward in Gabriel’s face. Actually, he reached Gabriel’s shoulder, but was still intimidating. “Will you please, for the love of God, shut. The hell. Up. You know, my father always told me that Angels are dicks, but wow. I get to experience it first-hand! I swear if I had some holy oil on me right now, I would Molotov your feathery ass! Did you even think, for one moment, that maybe- just maybe- I had tried to get you alone to talk to you about the attacks happening in your “Holy City”? Do you care where your siblings are disappearing to? Do you not wonder how I even got in the city? No! Of course not! The only thing you shitheads do is smite first, ask questions later!

“You’re too stuck up in your policy of obedience to even care about what’s happening right under your stupid, Celestial nose! You fear taking initiative in your “investigation” because God forbid- literally- you end up like your brother, Lucifer. I think you’ve made it really fuckin’ obvious that you want to kill me, that I am scum, that you have to follow your divine orders as an Archangel, so can you just shut up and let me deliver my message? Or are you too afraid to take orders from someone who isn’t your Heavenly Father?”

“You know nothing of obedience, Alistar,” Gabriel’s voice shook. He tightened his grip on the sword handle. “Since you are able to enter the Vatican City, it seems that you are obedient to no one. I don’t know how much of a humilitatem you have to be for this to be possible, but it is.” Gabriel paused here, studying the fuming Demon. Alistar had made many strong points in his rage. He was able to enter the city, something a normal Demon cannot do. He spoke of the attacks like he was firmly against them, like he was on the same side as the Angels. Also, Alistar had mentioned conversing with Gabriel several times now. Perhaps he could benefit from hearing this important message.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, choosing his next words carefully. “You are making it harder and harder for me to resist smiting you. But, your talk interests me. I will agree to listen to your message. In order to gain my partial trust, you must wear these,” Gabriel reached towards a small pack on his hip, and pulled out something that resembled handcuffs used by human law enforcers and authorities, as well as a thick leather strap for a blindfold. He moved to sheath his sword, put in a little too much vim, and smirked as he noticed Alistar flinch. Stay on your guard. Keep him in check.

“Ooh, Celestial Bronze obterens manicis and a blindfold… Kinky.”

“Silence, Demon. Any more of your tomfoolery, and I’ll cut out your tongue. Then you will never deliver this precious message. I will take you to a secluded area within the Holy City, and we will talk. Make a wrong move, and you die. Attempt escape, and you die. Call for reinforcements, and y-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’ll die. Big deal. Now can we just get going? You’ve had me up all night and I’m tired as Hell.”

The Angel glared at the Demon, strongly considering incinerating the damned thing on the spot. Instead, he swiftly put on the blindfold and willed the Celestial Bronze to bind the Demon’s hands.

“Come, we have much to discuss,” Gabriel ordered, leading Alistar forward with a firm grip on the arm.

[spellboundwolf]

Chapter 1 & Forward

Ness Wolfess

Start: 7/30/2016

28

Copyright & so on

Attention! This story is rated T to A because it includes adult situations, drama, some swearing & sex scenes farther in. If that sort of stuff isn't your thing, please direct your eyes some place else! All characters that appear in this story are over the age of 21, including the fictional persona of the reader. Dan Howell, Danny Avidan, Brian Wecht, TWRP & Phil Lester took no part in the creation of this story & is purely a fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. Since the love interests in this story are a bit tall (over 6 ft) I imagine the reader character's height it, at the biggest, 5'5”.

To Dan Howell & Danny Avidan if they finds this story, thank you for being so wonderful enough to inspire me. I respect & love you 2 very much.

(y/n) = your name

(e/c) = eye color

(h/c) = hair color

Dan = Dan Howell/Danisnotonfire

Danny = Leigh Danny Avidan/Danny Sexbang

With all of that taken care of, I hope you enjoy.

You were fast asleep in the window seat of a large, airline plane, right cheek resting against the bicep of your boyfriend Danny Avidan. There was a firm pressure against your face as he nudged & jostled you awake with his shoulder.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up. We're about to land.” Danny said in a soft tone as you rubbed sleep from your eyes & sat up. You wiped off a bit of drool from your chin, stretched & looked around, Danny's hazel eyes being the first thing you saw as you came back from dreamland. Him, you & Brian were bound for London, England for Ninja Sex Party's very first UK tour. After getting on the ground, the 3 of you planned to meet the guys of Tupper Ware Remix Party at the hotel where all of you'd be staying for the tour. You yawned & glanced over to see Brian as he sat beside Danny with his chin in 1 hand, then out the window to your first glimpse of the United Kingdom of Great Britain. You had come along with them because you'd been really looking forward to their very first tour overseas & a couple of your friends from the internet were locals. So you could all meet up while there. As the plane steadily landed & moved along on the runway, you slipped your hand into Danny's larger one, laced your fingers together & smiled up at him.

“How are you doing, hun?” You asked & Danny squeezed it.

“I'm really fucking excited actually... And dying to get out of this seat.” He answered & flexed his ankles impatiently. Poor guy, those long legs weren't meant to be cramped into such a small space for so long. Brian sighed & sat up straight as the pilot announced that they'd be ready to unload very soon.

“Me too. Spending so many hours on a plane sucks. At least we'll get to see TWRP & eat.” He added & you sat back in your chair as the plane started to slow to a stop, thinking of what you'd do once you finally got to walk around one of your dream vacation spots.

Brian slid the card key to the hotel room's door in & then yanked it back out, the light on the metallic handle turning green. He pulled down on it & opened the door wide, leading the way into your home-away-from-home. The 3 of you set down your luggage & wandered around to explore. The suite was large, of course with three people staying there. It had the kitchen combined with a lounge, bedroom, an office, bathroom & balcony that overlooked part of the busy, British city below. Brian headed for the office area & got on the phone with TWRP since he'd received a text message informing you that they had been having trouble finding the building. After tucking away some sodas, bottled water & food into the fridge, you wandered into the bedroom that housed 2 big beds, 2 dressers, shared bedside table, a wide-screen TV, desk & a bay window with floor-length curtains. You grinned when catching sight of Danny who was sprawled out on his back with both arms spread & eyes closed. He lifted his head & peeked out of one eye when you climbed onto the mattress & curled an arm around your chest as you snuggled up close.

“Hey, girl.” He said & let out a sigh when you ran your fingers against his flat stomach.

“I'm really happy I got to come along with you.” You said softly & laid a smooch on his fuzzy cheek. Danny turned his head & locked lips while sliding his long fingers into your soft, (h/c) locks. The tips massaged firmly & you let out a pleased moan into his mouth. In the other room, you could hear Brian continuing to chat & laugh with Lord Phobos on his cell phone. The kiss ended after a couple minutes of lips playing lazily & you snuggled up to your man.

“Mmmm, me too, (y/n).” He mumbled & the 2 of you laid there until Brian finally hung up & walked in through the double doors. He ran a hand across his dark hair before turning to open one half of the curtains, right in front of where you lay. Danny groaned & turned his back on the sunlight that suddenly hit his face. His eyes shut tightly in discomfort.

“Damn it, Brian.” He complained as you sat up. You chuckled a bit & hopped off the mattress, over to the other half of NSP as your boyfriend curled into himself.

“What's the news, dude?” You asked, bouncing a little on the soles of your feet. Brian smiled proudly at the bit of mischief he'd just pulled off then directed his attention at you.

“The guys said they'll be here in 30 minutes to an hour. Traffic's bad by where they are right now.” He replied & you nodded a little.

“Ok, sounds like we have some time to kill until then.” You said & looked over at Danny when he spoke up.

“You should tell your friends we're here, (y/n).” He mumbled while kicking off his shoes. Danny sat up long enough to wiggle out of his leather jacket, then slumped heavily back onto the comforter with a muffled thud. You perked up at this & went over to your luggage of non-clothing items.

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot.” You exclaimed & Danny just answered with a grunt. Flying for so long really wore the singer's body out. Brian had an expression in his sharp, blue eyes that suggested he was considering messing with Danny further, but instead walked off to the lounge to call Rachel & let her know that all of you had made it to London safely. While he did that, you took out the laptop with cable you used for travel & moved to the office space as to give Danny some quiet time. Right before setting up the computer, you sent your British friends text messages on their phones to get onto Skype, since you were now in town. You opened the messenger & checked your e-mail while waiting. Right after you finished up, the ring tone song that plays for a new call alerted. You minimized the browser & smiled when seeing the familiar avatar of your besty Phil Lester, requesting a video chat. You tucked a bit of your (h/c) hair behind one ear & clicked 'Accept'. Right away, most of your screen was filled with the smiling faces of Dan & Phil as they sat in their gaming room. You grinned big right away & all of you waved at each other.

“Hey, guys! We have arrived in merry, olde England!” You greeted & Phil rolled his eyes a little.

“That's a bit over the top, don't ya think?” He asked & you laughed a little before apologizing. Dan poked his head forward a little so that his face was more in frame now.

“Don't mind him. Anyway, it's so wonderful to see you. How long's it been since we last Skyped?” He said & you thought for a moment.

“I think about 2 months? Things have been crazy-busy with arranging this trip, plus having to get ready to actually be here.” You replied as Dan sat back & Phil punched his arm playfully for getting in the way. His eyes darted down while checking the clock on the monitor, then back at your face.

“When do you think we'll get to see you, (y/n)? I'm just so excited!” Phil asked as you noticed that Dan had been intently watching your eyes since the chat session started. He smiled slyly & tilted his head slightly when realizing that you had indeed discovered he was staring.

“Uh, it'll be a few hours at the most. How about I come over tonight? These guys are having their first concert tomorrow & I don't want to get in the way, need some time to adjust to this time zone. I really wanna see you too!” You answered & the 2 of them looked at each other, then back at the camera.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me!” Phil exclaimed & Dan agreed. Due to Danny being famous & you... not really as much, the relationship between you was strictly private. Only the other Grumps, TWRP, Dan, Phil & both you & Danny's immediate families knew. It was sometimes a bit difficult to make sure that there were no public photos or videos of you together. You were both very thankful to everybody for this respect. Danny & you had been a couple recently going on for 2 years now. First, there was the casual dating, then things got serious a few months into your relationship & finally going steady. Being with Danny was, one could say, one of the best things to happen in your life & you knew he'd say the same about you. Dan, you & Phil chatted for a while longer about plans & catching up on what you'd all been doing since the last time you had seen each other. You kept thinking about how excited you were, finally getting to meet some of your best friends in person. The internet was so amazing! Without it, you would most-likely never have even known about the duo bloggers.

“Wait until  we take you Pokémon hunting. Phil & I have been working on finding the best places in London to catch them.” Dan bragged & you clutched your cell in 1 hand excitedly.

“Oh, that sounds great!” You replied & started to enthuse about video games with them. Phil came up with the idea of making a few collaboration videos & added it to their schedule.

Later that day, 4 PM (London time), Brian & you took a taxi to the neighborhood Dan & Phil lived in. Danny was currently with TWRP, the lot of them at the hotel. Everyone had dinner together & you were now going to stay the night with Dan & Phil while the bands prepared for their first concert of the tour. The slick, black taxi came to a steady halt on the curb right outside of Dan & Phil's flat building. Brian helped you unload your over-night bag & walked you to the door while the cab waited.

“Danny & I will come to get you tomorrow around dinner time. Be sure to send a text or call if anything comes up.” He said while standing on the stoop with you. You smiled & gave Brian a warm hug.

“Ok, Bri. See you then & have fun.” You replied & he returned it with one arm before opening the door for you.

“Have a great time too, (y/n). I'll see ya.” Brian said & patted the top of your head gently before heading back to the cab. You waved as he went, then turned to go inside. You hands shook with the excitement. Dan & Phil were such wonderful friends to you already & could hardly believe that the men were about to be in front of you for real. No aid of computers to hear their voices or see their bright faces. You took a few deep breaths as you ascended the stairs to the entrance of their flat. You fixed your hair & let out a sigh before ringing the doorbell. Seconds later, you heard the muffled, distant sound of Dan calling out to his flatmate.

“Phil, get the door! My hands are full in here!” You heard Dan's high-pitched shout & the slightly rushing steps of someone else. Your ears perked at Phil's slightly lower & relaxed tone voice as he responded, which was much closer.

“Yeah, yeah. I'll get it! Don't worry about it, you lazy oaf!” He replied with playful sarcasm & you heard a very soft 'ugh' as Phil unlocked the door. You stood up straight & squared your shoulders as the knob turned. Your heart leapt when the door opened & you made eye contact with Phil Lester for the first time. Right as he saw you, his face turned into a huge grin & he practically screamed out your name.

“(y/n)! You're here! He cheered & reached out his long arms, scooping you up so that your feet half left the floor. You laughed giddily at his enthusiasm & hugged in return.

“Phil, oh my gosh! You're so strong!” You giggled & gave his shoulder a light headbutt. The 2 of you parted & he widened the doorway.

“Come on in. Dan! Get your ass in here!” He offered, then turned his head to call for Dan, his Lancashire accent more prominent with the volume. You stepped past Phil & into the flat's living room, eyes exploring the new scene before you. You had just set down your overnight luggage as Dan hurriedly made his way in & screeched to a halt, catching the door frame with one hand as to not bump into Phil who had followed behind.

“Oh my fucking god, you're actually here!” Dan Howell swore, grabbed both of your hands in his & squeezed them. You noticed that he was also quite tall, about Phil's size. Arin & Danny flashed through your mind & you smiled internally at realizing that you had more very tall, male friend than you had previously thought. You laughed at Dan's funny expression of shock when realizing that he'd said 'fuck' in front of you without meaning to. He blushed & dropped your hands, scratching his left cheek in embarrassment.

“Heh, sorry. I'm just really happy to see you, (y/n).” Dan apologized & you shook your head.

“It's alright. I understand & don't mind it really. You're talking to somebody who hangs out with the Grumps just about everyday.” You replied & step closer to your best friends. The three of you shared a group hug & you sighed contently.

“It's so wonderful to get to finally be with some of my favorite people in the whole world.” You said took a good look at the both of them. Phil grinned & adjusted his glasses.

“Well we're very happy to have you, (y/n).” He replied & Dan nodded, hands in his front pockets.

“Yeah, welcome to our home. I know we're going to have a great visit together.” He added & then shuffled his feet a little, eyes downcast. Phil swiftly fasten his hand to Dan's shoulder, making the other jolt a tad.

“Who's up for a home tour?” He asked with a big grin, those lovely blue eyes wide with enthusiasm. Dan groaned & shrugged Phil off before picking up your baggage to place out of the way.

“I sure am!” You said in an equally happy tone. Dan smiled in spite of himself & lead the way to the rest of their flat.

[iolacharleston-blog]

Partnership Advise.

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