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hornime · 3 years

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mutually assured destruction | kyoutani kentarou x gn!reader

he pushed your cheeks in with his fingers, effectively quieting your protests. “be quiet,” he spat, “and take what i give you. or nothing at all.”

warnings: 18+, fwb!kyoutani, hate sex, degradation, orgasm denial, fighting for dominance (idek if that’s a thing but it should be), both you and kyo are BRATTY AS HELL, some choking, spitting, CHAIN BITING, kinda toxic ?? but like mutually so it cancels out cus pemdas ???

w/c: 1.7k (i got carried away but kyoutani is just so sexy)

a/n: the way i came up with this title while studying for apush and then kyoutani flooded my mind and suddenly the catalysts of the cold war no longer mattered to me anymore.

you and kyoutani were not a good mix, not by a long shot. simply being in the same room was a disaster waiting to happen; he was a bundle of tnt and you were a lit match. for all that you hated each other, though, both of you needed the other for something: a fuck that would never disappoint.

the sex, just like your relationship, was explosive. it was heart-stopping, ab-clenching, vision-blinding, breath-stealing, hardcore-as-fuck sex. neither of you could get enough of it nor wane yourself off it. you were addicted.

it made you hate him even more.

[11:05 PM] kyo-kyo: come over

you cringed at the contact name. you must’ve changed it after the last time you hooked up, all stupid and cock-drunk. you quickly retyped his contact info before responding to his message.

[11:05 PM] you: why

[11:05 PM] kyoutani: are you an idiot? you know why

[11:05 PM] you: ik i just wanna hear u say it

[11:05 PM] you: say that ur soooooo horny that you just haddddd to text me

[11:06 PM] kyoutani: no. fuck you.

[11:06 PM] you: fine. im not coming over then.

you both knew that was a lie.

[11:08 PM] you: have fun taking care of urself.

[11:08 PM] you: needy bitch.

[11:08 PM] kyoutani: watch it. i wasnt this mean when you were begging me to fuck you last week.

you sighed. that was a moment of weakness.

[11:08 PM] kyoutani: whatd you say last time? something along the lines of “ill do whatever you want just come fuck me”?

[11:11 PM] kyoutani: *attachment: one (1) screenshot*

[11:11 PM] kyoutani: ohh it was “ill do whatever you want PLEASE just come fuck me”

[11:12 PM] kyoutani: youre so much nicer to be around when you use your manners

definitely a moment of weakness.

[11:12 PM] you: fuck off i get it. im coming

[11:12 PM] kyoutani: doors unlocked

the moment you nudged your way into his apartment, he was on you, hands gripping tightly at the flesh of your hips and teeth nibbling at your bottom lip.

“get off,” you groaned, pushing him away. as you peeled off your jacket, you glanced down at his pants and looked back up at his face with an amused expression. “are you hard already?”

he met your eyes with a gaze of lust—and was that desperation?—before turning to walk towards his bedroom, expecting you to follow. “no.”

“yes you are,” you teased. “you really needed me, didn’t you? you’re absolutely pathe—”

before you could finish, kyoutani grabbed your wrist before practically dragging you to his bed. he pushed you onto the mattress and, with his hands on your waist, maneuvered your body up until your head rested between his two pillows. “stop fucking talking. your voice is annoying.”

“at least i can keep it in my pants,” you retorted. “you’re just embarrassingly horny.”

“you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.” that shut you up.

he crept towards you until the gold chain around his neck dangled tantalizingly in your face. in an instant, you were kissing, aggressively melding your lips together in a mess of teeth and tongue. kyoutani’s hands clumsily reached for your bottoms, briefly breaking the kiss to unbutton your pants and yank them, along with your underwear, off your legs. he then did the same to himself, giving his leather belt a thoughtful once-over before glancing back at your face. he was clearly deliberating about something in his head, though you were completely clueless as to what, but he ultimately threw the belt to the side alongside his jeans with a shrug of his shoulders. maybe next time, he thought.

meanwhile, you’d taken off your shirt and were tugging at the hem at kyoutani’s. he seized your forearm, “stop being so impatient,” he chastised, before pulling the cloth over his head and letting it drop to the floor.

breathless, you both marveled in the glory of the other’s naked body. kyoutani, a lot more eager than you—though he’d rather die than admit that—closed the distance between you, leaning down to suck on your tongue. when he separated from you, his eyes cloudy and cheeks flushed, you spit in your palm, maintaining eye contact while feeling blindly for his cock.

he hissed, briefly shutting his eyes, as your fingers closed around his shaft, leisurely stroking up and down.

“where’s the lube?”

“in the,“ his voice became strained as your thumb swirled his pre-cum around the tip, “the bo-bottom drawer. i’ll,” he groaned. “i’ll get it.”

you released his cock as he leaned over, opening the drawer and pulling out the bottle. he dribbled some of the liquid on the pads of his fingers and brought them closer to your hole. you tensed, eyes squeezing in anticipation as you prepared for the intrusion.

nothing happened.

in confusion, you opened your eyelids only to be met with the mildly-entertained expression of the man above you. “so hasty,” he tsked. his fingertips circled your fluttering hole but did nothing more.

“stop teasing,” you pleaded.

he slowly inched his fingers in, groaning as he watched your walls stretch to accommodate him. for a few minutes, he did nothing but push in and out and scissor his fingers, making you wider and wider.

“put it in.”

your words were met with little resistance—he wanted this as much as you did, if not more—and he repositioned himself, aligning his cock with your hole, now stretched and slick with lube. he moved his hips in, moaning lightly as he bottomed out.

“f-fuck,” he mumbled. “you’re so tight.”

“just move.”

he obliged, thrusting in and out, faster and faster, until you both were crying out in pleasure, scrumptiously close to your orgasms.

“i’m gonna cum soon,” you babbled. “don’t s-stop.”

“oh, are you now?”

you nodded mindlessly, brain hazy and unable to register the sinister undertone of his question.

“y-yeah. i’m so close. so. close—fuck i’m gon-”

kyoutani suddenly halted his movements, eyes blazing as he looked down at you.

“wha-why’d you stop?” you couldn’t help but whine. “i was so close.”

“are you seriously asking me that? why i stopped?” he taunted. “who’s the one that called me a ‘needy bitch’? huh?”

shit. if you’d known that he was going to use your jabs against you like this, you never would’ve made them. hindsight is a bitch.

“i didn’t mean it, kyo,” you pleaded, innocently using the cute nickname. “you know that. so why don’t you just give me what i wan-”

he pushed your cheeks in with his fingers, effectively quieting your protests. “be quiet,” he spat, “and take what i give you. or nothing at all.”

he thought for a moment. “and call me ken.”

he resumed his thrusts, significantly more erratic than before, and you couldn’t help but call out his name: ken, k-ken, fuck ken, more.

however, you’d sobered up from your denied release, and a wicked plan was beginning to formulate in your head. kyoutani, actually ken, now, was losing his composure even faster than you were—he’d denied himself an orgasm for the sake of punishing you, after all. you could tell that his dominance was crumbling—his shaking forearms and barely concealed moans had not gone unnoticed—and now was a good a time as ever for revenge.

and his chain, his stupid, fucking, gold chain, was getting on your nerves, clashing with your face every time his hips met yours. fed up and driven by vengeance, you clasped your teeth around the glimmering necklace, catching him off-guard.

he looked down at you, curiosity shining through his lustful gaze. “what’re yo-”

you quickly jerked your head to the side, yanking him off balance and making him land on his side. in an instant, you’d forced him onto his back and straddled his muscular thighs, a triumphant look visible on your face.

“how’d you even d-” ken choked on his words as you slammed back down on him again, taking him impossibly deeper. his hands scrambled to grip the bedsheets, “shit.”

“for the record,” you panted in between heavy breaths, rocking your hips, “i called you a needy bitch because you are a needy bitch.”

“shut up. no i’m no-”

your hand closed around his neck, preventing him from continuing. “yes you are,” you insisted, “and you’ll take whatever i give you.”

he shook his head out of your grasp, gasping for air. “i fucking hate you.”

“open your mouth,” you ordered. he glared at you defiantly. “open,” you purposefully clenched, tightening your hold on his cock, “up.”

at the sudden change in pressure, he couldn’t help but throw his head back and moan, allowing you to harshly grab his chin and let your salvia drip off your lips onto his awaiting tongue.

“swallow,” you demanded.

overwhelmed by the undeniable pleasure coursing through his veins, he did so without complaint. why does it taste good, he sighed internally. now i’m gonna want more.

just a few thrusts later, you both reached your orgasms, moaning far too loud in a room of walls that were far too thin. the intensity made your muscles turn to jelly and you collapsed onto ken’s chiseled chest, your bodies both trembling.

“‘m tired,” you mumbled into his collarbone.

“yeah me too,” he snapped. “you’re fucking exhausting to be around. i don’t know why i do it.”

“i do,” you teased, raising your head, “‘cus you’re a needy bi-”

he mashed your cheek back into his shoulder. “don’t finish that.” you weren’t sure if the fuzziness in your mind was clouding your judgement, but you swore you could hear the hint of a snicker in his voice.

gradually shaking the exertion out of your limbs, you picked up your clothes and got dressed, walking out ken’s front door with a middle-finger throw over your shoulder.

“i hope i never have to see you again!” he called out behind you.

as you headed back to your apartment, your phone buzzed with a text:

[02:01 AM] ken: i have a team dinner on tues and its gonna be annoying and ill probably be frustrated as hell

[02:01 AM] ken: so

you hesitated before responding.

[02:01 AM] you: i can be there around 10

[02:02 AM] ken: cool. sounds good

you couldn’t help the corners of your mouth from turning up. you were happy—in a sick, perverted, sex-crazed kind of way—but happy all the same.

tuesday couldn’t come soon enough. you were going to absolutely destroy each other.

#the chain biting was such a sexy brain move on my part #like how did i even think of that #that one paragraph literally belongs in a museum #spreading my gold chain kyoutani agenda #kinky.inky #haikyuu smut #haikyuu! smut #kyoutani x reader #kyotani kentaro x reader #maddog #maddog x reader #tw.hate sex #tw.degradation #tw.toxic #tw.choking #tw.spit #kyoutani

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paralleljulieverse · 3 years

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It’s been a while between posts here at the Parallel Julieverse, but we have finally managed to clear a bit of time from work, life, and other such annoyances to get back to what really matters: all things Julie! And in this post we highlight an interesting tidbit of trivia from late-1950 when Julie was appearing in Red Riding Hood at the Theatre Royal Nottingham, the subject of a recent 70th anniversary tribute post.

Although she had only just turned 15 when she was cast as the eponymous lead in Red Riding Hood, Julie Andrews was already an established juvenile star of considerable note. Her debut star-making turn as a 12-year-old child prodigy in Starlight Roof in 1947/48 garnered widespread media attention and it catapulted the young singer into a whirlwind period of touring performances, radio programmes, West End pantomimes, and even early television appearances. Julie’s subsequent casting as the resident singer in the hit BBC radio series, Educating Archie, augmented her fame further, bringing her voice into the sitting rooms of Britain on a weekly basis and making her a household name.

With this growing renown came equally expanded opportunities for cross-promotional marketing such as celebrity endorsements and advertising. A particular variant of celebrity promotion popular in the era was the staged 'star visit’ or what today might be termed ‘celebrity event marketing’ (Segrave 2005). Here the star would be invited to appear at a particular event or special occasion as a way of boosting public and media interest, while serving in return as a form of value-adding PR for the star and his/her professional ventures.

Julie was involved in several such ‘star visits’ during the three month run of Red Riding Hood. During rehearsals in mid-December 1950, she was invited as a VIP guest and honorary judge at the Annual Dance for Booth and Son, a major British apparel manufacturing company (‘Ilkeston’, 1). Around the same time, she paid a special visit to the Nazareth House for Children in Nottingham (‘Night’, 2), as well as the Borough Green Air Training Corps Cadets Open Night where “[p]art of the evening’s entertainment had to be cancelled in order to allow the enthusiastic younger generation to get her autograph” (‘Julie stopped’, 3).

One of the more fascinating such events -- and the one that we profile here -- was a courtesy visit to famed music impresario, Lawrence Wright. Today, Wright is little remembered, save by a handful of theatre history enthusiasts, but he was a major figure in the British entertainment industry of the early twentieth century (Wright 1988). Popularly dubbed the ‘Daddy of Tin Pan Alley’ and the ‘Monarch of Melody’, Wright started as a music composer in his hometown of Leicester where, under the pseudonym of Horatio Nicholls, he penned a string of popular songs such as “Down by the Stream", “Blue Eyes”, “Toy Drum Major”, and “Among My Souvenirs” (‘Alley’s Daddy’, 3).

Wright’s greatest success, however, came as a sheet music publisher and entertainment entrepreneur. In 1910, he chanced upon a catchy tune written by a local Leicester street singer called “Don’t Go Down the Mine, Daddy”. He promptly purchased the rights to the song and published it as part of his embryonic music company. A week after the song went on sale, there was a tragic mining disaster in Whitehaven in which 147 men and boys lost their lives. Recognising a potential marketing angle, Wright had a snipe printed across the top of the sheet music declaring that “Half the profits from the first ten thousand sold will go to the relief fund for the Whitehaven pit disaster” (Wright, 4). The song became a national sensation, selling over a million copies, and making Wright a small fortune. With the proceeds, he moved to London and set up shop as the ‘Lawrence Wright Music Company’ in Denmark Street, establishing what would become the city’s ‘Tin Pan Alley’.

Under the slogan, ‘You Can’t Go Wrong with the Wright Song’, Wright became the single biggest music publisher in the UK with an eventual catalogue of over 5000 songs which he leased to major theatre producers and singing artists of the day. In an era when many homes had a piano and singalongs in the parlour were a popular social pastime, Wright also sold his sheet music direct to the public through a nationwide chain of ‘Lawrence Wright Music Shops’. Ever the canny entrepreneur, Wright diversified his business holdings with a host of affiliate ventures. In 1926, he founded The Melody Maker, the first British periodical devoted to popular music, which remained in continuous publication right into the early-2000s. He launched a popular series of self-paced musical tutorials which taught a generation of young Britons how to play everything from the piano to the banjo. Wright also moved into theatre producing, mounting an annual summer revue, On With the Show at the North Pier Pavilion in Blackpool, which ran for 32 years and served as a showcase for many of the nation’s biggest variety acts (Wright 1988).

One of Wright’s more legendary professional pursuits was in the area of entertainment publicity. An inveterate showman, he would do anything to advertise his latest song or business venture, often falling foul of the authorities with some of his more colourful efforts. To promote his 1927 song, “Me and Jane in a Plane”, he chartered a bi-plane to fly at low altitude around the Blackpool Tower, while Jack Hylton and his Band played the song on board and dropped advertising leaflets to the startled crowds below. He offered £1000 to anyone who could disprove the title of another Wright song, “I’ve Never Seen a Straight Banana”, with the result that Denmark Street was awash with truckloads of fruit sent in by eager contestants. And what better way to launch a tune called “Sahara” than to dress a bevy of beautiful blondes as Arabian princesses and ride them on camels around Piccadilly Circus (Wright, 11; ‘King’, 7).

Less extravagant, but no less important to his business success, was Wright’s promotional use of stars. Across his fifty year career, Wright forged key professional relationships with many leading musical artists of the day. He even married a star: variety singer and comedienne, Betsy Warren, in 1933, though their union ended in divorce after only a few years. More enduring were his collaborations with the scores of stars who sang his songs and appeared in his shows. In 1960 to mark his 50th year in show business, Melody Maker published a special golden anniversary tribute to Wright that was brimming with congratulatory greetings from a cavalcade of stars old and new: everyone from George Formby, Jack Payne, and Billy Cotton to Harry Secombe, Connie Francis, and Frankie Vaughan (Wright, 18).

It was in this context that 15-year-old Julie Andrews found herself paying a promotional ‘star visit’ to Lawrence Wright in late 1950. The precise circumstances surrounding the visit are unknown. The young singer had an existing professional relationship of sorts with Wright, having included several of his songs in her concert repertoire such as “The Dream of Olwen” and “I Heard a Robin Singing”. Indeed, an article in the trade press from this time makes mention of Julie in relation to a newly published Wright number, “The Song of the Tritsch Tratsch” which she had started to perform in some of her concerts and, she was quoted as saying, it “always gets a grand reception” (‘Song Notes’, 4). Another likely influence behind the visit was Tom Arnold, the producer of Red Riding Hood. Arnold was a close business associate of Wright’s and one suspects he may have been instrumental in engineering the visit as a way of promoting his panto. Either way, at some point in November/December 1950, Julie dutifully trotted off to Wright’s office where, with photographers conveniently on hand, the young “panto starlet” was received by the impresario and what press reports termed a chorus of “his stars”.

It is this “chorus of stars” that makes the visit especially interesting from a theatre history perspective. While the names of the five female stars assembled to greet Julie may not ring many bells today, they were all celebrated theatrical luminaries of their day:

Carole Lynne (1918-2008): A glamorous actress and singer of the 1940s, Lynne starred in a string of big West End musicals including Black Velvet (1939), Old Chelsea (1943) opposite Richard Tauber, and a revival of Jill Darling (1945). She also appeared in a number of wartime comedy films such as Ghost Train (1941) and Asking For Trouble (1942) with Max Miller. In 1946, Lynne married famed theatre impresario, Lord Bernard Delfont -- the brother of Sir Lew Grade who would play a major role in Julie’s career -- and, after retiring from the stage in the early 50s, she became a prominent society hostess and patron to many theatre charities (’Carole Lynne’, 62).

Dorothy Ward (1890-1987): A noted beauty of the Edwardian stage, Ward rose to prominence in West End operettas such as The Dairymaids (1906) and Tom Jones (1907). She achieved her greatest fame, however, as a dashing pantomime Principal Boy, appearing in over 40 pantos across her 50 year career. In many of these shows, she played opposite her husband, Shaun Glenville, a noted panto Dame, and few Christmases passed without the pair “on the same stage, he in skirts and she in tights” ( ‘Obituary: Miss Dorothy Ward’, 14).

Marie Burke (1894-1988): A singer of remarkable versatility, Burke originally trained for an operatic career but found her niche in the lighter fields of operetta and musical theatre. She made a high profile debut as Isolde in Charles Cochran’s controversial 1919 production of Afgar, after which she spent several years touring in the United States and Australia. Burke had her greatest stage success playing the part of Julie in the premiere London production of Show Boat (1928). Thereafter, she headlined several major operettas including the London premiere of Waltzes from Vienna (1931-32) and its Broadway transfer as The Great Waltz (1934), and Don Juan de Mañara (1937) at Covent Garden. Burke had an equally successful screen career, appearing in over 70 films and TV programmes from the teens till the 1970s (‘Obituary: Marie Burke’, 12).

Patricia Burke (1917-2003) : The daughter of Marie, Patricia Burke was born in the proverbial trunk while her mother and father, tenor Tom Burke, were on a concert tour in Milan. Inevitably, she took to the boards herself as a teen, singing and dancing her way to fame in a string of West End musical successes of the 1930s -- with more than a few Julie connections. She made her professional debut in the 1933 premiere of Cole Porter’s Nymph Errant starring Gertrude Lawrence and later appeared alongside Beatrice Lillie in Happy Returns (1938). One of her greatest West End successes was as the female lead in The Lisbon Story (1943), a show which introduced the popular standard, “Pedro, the Fisherman” which Julie would later record. Following the war, Burke made an unexpected move into 'legit’ theatre, playing the female lead opposite Trevor Howard in a well received 1946 Old Vic production of The Taming of the Shrew, followed with a number of other equally high profile performances in classics such as As You Like It (1948), Jonson’s The Alchemist (1948) and Shaw’s Saint Joan (1948). Burke never forgot her popular roots, though, and she continued to alternate dramatic roles with musicals and pantos, as well as appearances in film and TV programmes (‘Patricia Burke’, p. 44).

Marjorie Browne (1910-1990): Another popular performer of the mid-century, Browne started her career in the mid-twenties as one of producer Charles Cochran’s ‘Young Lady’ beauties, scoring a major success in his revue One Damn Thing After Another (1927). Browne went on to perform widely in hit West End shows such as On Your Toes (1937) and Chu Chin Chow (1940), as well as touring productions of Rose Marie (1942-3), Hit the Deck (1944) and Good Night Vienna (1946). She also appeared in a number of British film musicals of the 30s and 40s including Lassie from Lancashire (1938), Laugh It Off (1940) co-starring Tommy Trinder, and I Didn’t Do It (1945) with George Formby.

It was, thus, quite the illustrious welcoming committee on hand to receive our young Julie. And, as much as the visit was a factitious PR event staged for the cameras by the ever-wily Lawrence Wright, there is still something deeply moving about its symbolic enactment of a generational passing of the theatrical torch. As representatives of the outgoing old guard, the five grand stars stand at the rear, poised with the confidence of a lifetime’s experience, charging their glasses in warm salute to the rising star of the next generation. That the women are bedecked with the emblematic accoutrements of mid-century celebrity -- furs, coiffure, champagne -- while, in the foreground, an adolescent Julie -- perched rather awkwardly on the corner of the desk, lanky legs akimbo -- is garbed in a homey juvenile ensemble of woollen coat, tartan skirt, ankle socks and Mary Janes -- cradling that perennial icon of cosy British domesticity, a cup of tea -- only adds to the symbolic poignancy.

By 1950, the tide was also starting to ebb for Lawrence Wright. Musical tastes were changing and audiences were fast moving on from the fireplace singalongs and end-of-pier entertainments with which he had built his career. A few short years later, he would stage his final summer revue in Blackpool in 1956, going into semi-retirement before passing in 1964 at age 76. His voluminous catalogue of songs, however, would endure. Prized as a valuable commercial property, the Lawrence Wright catalogue has been owned, at various times, by the Beatles and Michael Jackson, before being bought up by the Universal Music group (Horn, 595).

As a final Julie connection, years after her 1950 ‘star visit’ to the great man himself, Julie would once again sing a Lawrence Wright song when, as Gertrude Lawrence in the 1968 musical biopic, STAR!, she performed the classic WW1 music hall number, “Burlington Bertie from Bow”. Wright had purchased the rights to "Burlington Bertie” when it was first written in 1914 and it would remain a valuable possession of his corporate trunk. Even though “Burlington Bertie” was not in fact a song ever performed by Gertrude Lawrence, it perfectly captured the flavour of Edwardian music hall and provided an ideal showcase for Julie’s combined vocal and comic talents. The song was also something of a personal favourite for Julie. She had recorded the song previously for her 1962 album of music hall standards, and had even shared the stage in the late-40s with the original “Burlington Bertie” herself, the legendary Ella Shields (Andrews, 116). Julie’s performance of “Burlington Bertie” in STAR! would prove a highlight of that otherwise troubled film and she would continue to perform the number in concert well into the 1980s, proving indeed that “you can’t go wrong with a Wright song”!

Sources:

‘Alley’s Daddy Dead’, 1964. The Stage and Television Today, 21 March: 3.

Andrews, Julie. 2019. Home Work: A memoir of my Hollywood years. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson.

D.G. 1964. ‘The King is Dead. Long Live the King!’, The Illustrated Chronicle. 22 May: 7.

Heyes, Joy 1991. ‘Obituary: Marjorie Browne.’ The Stage and Television Today, 21 February: 30.

Horn, David 2004. ‘Lawrence Wright Music Company’ in J. Shepherd et al, eds. Continuum Encyclopedia of Popular Music of the World : Media, industry, society. London: Continuum, pp. 594-95.

‘Ilkeston Firm’s Event’, 1950. The Nottingham Evening Post. 16 December: 1.

‘Julie stopped the show at cadet’s open night.’ 1950. The Chronicle and Advertiser. 15 December: 3.

“Night of their Lives: Children at panto. dress rehearsal’, 1950. The Nottingham Evening Post. 23 December: 2.

’Carole Lynne: Glamorous actress and musical theatre star who as Lady delfont became one of London’s leading theatrical hostesses’ 2008. The Times, 22 January: p. 62.

‘Obituary: Marie Burke’ 1988. The Times, 23 March: p.12

‘Obituary: Miss Dorothy Ward’ 1987. The Times, 22 January: p. 14.

‘Patricia Burke: Thirties musical star who proved her range with Shakespearean roles, but retained a love of pantomime.’ 2003, The Times, 27 November: p. 44.

Segrave, Kerry, 2005. Endorsements in Advertising: A social history. Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland.

‘Song Notes’ 1950. The Stage. 16 November, p. 4.

Wright, Lawrette, 1988. Lawrence Wright: Souvenirs for a century. Chards: Matthews Wright Press.

#julie andrews #lawrence wright #red riding hood #united kingdom #musical theatre #theatre history #music hall #variety #burlington bertie from bow #carole lynne #dorothy ward #marie burke #patricia burke #marjorie browne #ella shields #british

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krystalreverb · 4 years

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Something Human (Fic Preview #1)

Oh my god a fic from me that isn't xanlow I know it's the end times it's still fire emblem tho, don't get that confused so I have a weakness for master servant stuff so this is what you get I immediately had a weakness for Hubert/Edelgard I forced hubert to learn some healing magic so I could have more healers, haha I also like to make jokes so I paired them up and Hubert is just like of course I love you, was that not clear? ok I have no excuses for the ending but here we go gender neutral and pan byleth, I use the female Byleth in my runs because it makes recruiting Sylvain so much easier and he's a great unit and also i'm a huge slut for fishnet tights but this Byleth can be either one you want they use they/them pronouns and I don't describe their appearance at all so it can be either Byleth you want this takes place during the war when the black eagle strike force is still using garreg mach as a base I guess? It's vaguely sometime after they take out deirdru but before they march on fhirdiad i'm pretending byleth didn't recruit any other students into the BESF because my brain only has room for so many characters and I don't want to remember any extras nor did I want to explain why they're there Have a little body worship for your troubles this is self indulgent and shitty don't hate me this is just what I do for fun edelgard is 100% loud af in bed, don't try to tell me she's not a screamer ok so in my headcanon how this works is Byleth splits their class/training session time into two or three chunks to give the BESF a generous lunch break and give them a chance to study and train on their own for a couple hours before moving onto a different topic or training focus this is mostly focused on Hubert, there are some good Edelgard moments but this is mostly a Hubert-centric story bi king linhardt is my lifeblood, he's so jealous and catty there are multiple music and pop culture references dating back into the 90's, there are quite a few, see if you can spot them I was born in '92 I'm allowed to call myself a 90's kid dadgummit you kids these days I s2fg the first person to give me a complete list of memes and references that I put in this fic gets a hubelgard drawing by me I am not an artist but I'll do it anyway just don't expect anything good so basically Hubert is Gomez Addams and Edelgard is his Morticia, okay he worships the ground she walks on and lavishes her with affection and love and just thinks everything she says and does is beautiful and magical and she enjoys every second of it I headcanon that edelgard is an absolute unit she's just smol and Hubert kind of has the build of a guy who sits inside all day reading spellbooks

Something Human

The hallways of the monastery were dark, the night outside peering in through the windows and casting slim moonlight beams on the floor and walls. Within those moonbeams was a shadowy figure, slithering through the shadows like a phantom in an ancient opera house, a glass of water in one hand. The figure stopped, hearing something strange.

“N-no... S-stay away! Stay away!” It was Edelgard. She was in distress. The water glass shattered loudly on the floor, and the water spilled across the stone. The figure bolted across the hallway and around the corner. Protect her with your life.

“No! No, stop! Get away from me!”

The figure stopped in front of a locked door and very quickly assessed the situation. No sign of forced entry. That was good. But Edelgard was still crying out, and the bed was rocking, banging against the wall alarmingly. The figure picked up a lamp off the windowsill and lit it, lighting up his face as he knocked on the door. It was Hubert, who had gotten up thirsty in the middle of the night and left his quarters to fetch himself a glass of water from the kitchens to take back to his room with him. He was a human, as were they all, and he occasionally got thirsty in the middle of the night. This simply happened to be one of those nights.

“Your Majesty? What's going on in there?” Hubert asked. He got no response other than Edelgard crying out again and the bed crashing against the wall violently.

Hubert spared no time. He quickly used a bit of magic to trip the lock and opened the door. Immediately he saw that there was no one there, other than a very sweaty Edelgard in her bed, eyes screwed shut, crying out in fitful sleep.”Stay away! Stay away! Leave me alone!” Edelgard cried out in her sleep, clutching her head with her hands and thrashing in her sheets. Her hair whipped about her head, creating a shimmering white halo around her head. The bed crashed loudly into the wall, and the vibration knocked her crown clean off the bedside table. Hubert let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

A nightmare. Of course. Hubert knew his lady suffered from nightmares; who wouldn't, after the life she'd led, the horrors she'd suffered? Hubert often found his dreams equally grim and frightening, on nights such as these. On clear nights, with no immediate threat present, sometimes, just sometimes, his mind turned in on itself too. It was a side effect of the rigors of war.

Hubert quickly put the lamp on her bedside table, picked her crown up off the floor, placed it back on the table next to the lamp, and shook his lady gently with one hand. “Your Majesty.” It was simple, but direct, quiet, yet audible enough to carry within the dorm room.

Edelgard's eyes shot open and she sat up straight, woken up suddenly. Her hair was a disaster and there were red rings around her eyes. The string-like strap of her thin nightgown fell pathetically off of her shoulder to hook around her arm, the neckline slipping down until her right breast threatened to fall out of the material entirely. Hubert pretended not to notice. “Ahhhh!” She shrieked, her eyes fixing on him and taking a couple of seconds to fully focus.

Hubert was almost knocked backwards by her force. “My lady, it's only me!” He exclaimed in a direct whisper.

“Hubert??” Edelgard asked, wild-eyed and terrified, clutching her blankets to her chest. “What are you doing in my chambers this late at night???”

“I heard you from the hallway, Your Majesty. You were crying out in your sleep. Is it that nightmare again?” Hubert asked, gently placing his hand on hers to placate her anxiety for now.

“Oh, Hubert... I don't want to talk about it.” Edelgard said stubbornly, casting her eyes away. Her cheeks turned a rather cute shade of embarrassed pink.

“The professor said talking about it would help.” Hubert supplied. Edelgard huffed.

“I know. But I...”

“But I won't force your hand.” Hubert relented. “At least allow me to stay by your side, my lady, for my own peace of mind. I thought you were being attacked, Your Majesty. It gave me quite the fright.”

“Oh, Hubert, don't be overdramatic. Yes, you can stay.” Edelgard shuffled over in bed and allowed Hubert to climb up next to her. Hubert immediately found himself the subject of a tight embrace, the Emperor's head resting on his chest and her arms looped around his shoulders.

“Hubert.... I will create peace, for all of Fódlan.”

“I know, Your Majesty. I know. And I will be by your side every step of the way, my lady.”

“No.... No titles tonight, Hubert. Please....”

“As you wish, Edelgard.” Hubert stroked Edelgard's hair softly, running his fingers through her white locks. This was familiar to them; comforting. Hubert often would let the crying little girl that was a pained and tortured young Edelgard sleep in his arms after a particularly terrible day. It always allowed her a restful sleep, to know he was always there to watch over her. Edelgard's father never knew, and neither did Hubert's. It wasn't entirely proper of them, but then again they had never quite been a proper pair. Closer than siblings, they knew each other more intimately than lovers, and touch came naturally between them as a sign of their devotion to one another. A hug, a touch on the shoulder, their pinkies intertwining as they walked their bloody path together. There was a world of words between them never spoken, but implicitly understood. What was proper and what was crossing the line. What they could and couldn't say. What they wouldn't say, not yet anyway.

“Hubert?”

“Yes, Edelgard?”

“Do you think I'm... a good Emperor?” She asked, in a small voice. An uncertain voice. A voice wracked with insecurity, disbelief, and thinly-veiled suffering in isolation.

“Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg, ruler of the entire Adrestian Empire... yours is a reign I am proud to swear my fealty to.” Hubert answered immediately, without hesitation or second thought. “And you know me, Edelgard. I am an excellent judge of character.”

Edelgard giggled. A joke. Hubert did have a sense of humor, as much as he didn't like to show it. Her face fell somewhat, and her giggle died down. She snuggled her head deeper into Hubert's chest, holding onto him like a lifeline. Hubert allowed this.“Hubert, will you sing to me? That song you used to sing for me when I was small...” She murmured, and Hubert's expression softened. A particularly terrible event was haunting her tonight. Perhaps the night when.... no. Hubert refused to think about it. Edelgard had been through enough.

Hubert began to sing an ancient lullaby softly. It was in the ancient language of magic, one that Edelgard did not understand but found beautiful. Hubert was not particularly talented at singing, but as he was of a noble house, he was studied somewhat in the art, being capable of at least holding a tune. He was clearly not destined for a musical career but he wasn't awful. His voice carried well, anyway, and he could pass for a gravelly, underused, sinister sort of low tenor. As he sang, he gently ran his fingernails across Edelgard's scalp, scratching her head softly and sweetly, and she damn near melted in his arms. Soon she was sleeping soundly again, and Hubert very quickly came to realize that he really didn't have the ice-cold heart it would take to move her from the cozy spot she seemed to have claimed on his chest. So there they lay, curled up around one another, a tangled mess of limbs until the sun rose again.

When they roused from slumber, Hubert got up early, woke Edelgard, and then fell into his regular routine of helping Edelgard get dressed for the day. Her armor did have too many buckles, and that blasted dress, with all its buttons and epaulets. He carefully brushed out her hair, and pinned it elegantly to her head, placing her crown atop it, all in silence. That silence passed between them like a ghost through the room. She stood. And she turned.

“Thank you, Hubert.” She said softly. “For staying with me.”

“My lady, I would never leave your bed, if that is what you asked of me. I am ever your faithful servant, Your Majesty.” Hubert replied. Edelgard had to laugh a little.

“I know, Hubert. Perhaps after the professor's lecture, you'd like to share a meal with me? I'd love to hear more about that book Dorothea is making you read.”

Hubert rolled his eyes. “That drivel can barely be called a 'book', my lady. It's hardly anything more than blatant erotica mixed with stale and tiresome literary tropes. It's garbage.”

“Still, she seemed insistent. Does she quiz you?” Edelgard teased.

“Unfortunately, and at random times, so I'm forced to continue reading it until I can make her stop. She starts crying when I get a question wrong.” Hubert complained.

Edelgard laughed. “Then at least tell me about it. Share a meal with me. And tell me all about it.”

Hubert relented. “Of course, my lady.” He bowed politely, and offered his arm to escort his lady to Byleth's class.

#hubert #edelgard #hubert X edelgard #hubelgard #edelbert #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #i am black eagles trash #hubert is my garbage son

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maybeformepersonally · 5 years

Text

Fic: Coincidences mean you're on the right path

Title: Coincidences mean you're on the right path Author: maybeformepersonally Rating: G / General Audiences Summary: Dan had been watching Amazingphil since he was a teenager. He never thought they would actually meet, of course, and so he is understandably surprised when Phil walks into the room. Word Count: 4055 Author’s Note: Written for the Phandom Fic Fest Bingo, for the square “Fandom AU”. This is a canon divergence AU where they never met in 2009, and Dan never started making videos or became an internet cult leader. Now, it’s 2018 and they unexpectedly cross paths. Read on AO3

Dan’s had a stressful day at work, to say the least. This, coupled with staying up much later than he should have last night for an impromptu, ill-advised Netflix marathon is almost enough to tempt him into skipping the gym for the day. Almost, but not quite, as he knows he’ll struggle to fall asleep if he doesn’t tire himself out. It’s for a noble cause, he tells himself, and drags himself there, albeit grudgingly.

He’s in a mood today. It’s the only reason why he’s dragging his feet, really. He knows he’ll get into it as soon as he starts, that’s what always happens. And he understands how crucial exercise is for his mental health. It really has helped a lot since he’d taken it up two years ago. He allows himself a pout and some internal grumbling about it anyway.

Well, as it turns out, he will never be so grateful for his hard-earned discipline, for if he had caved to temptation, he would have missed out.

He’s quite at home in the machine room, doing his own thing with headphones on, as usual, jogging on the treadmill, when none other than Phil Lester, a.k.a. Amazingphil, a.k.a. the star of an embarrassingly large amount of Dan’s teenage fantasies (and also an occasional star of a few current ones), struts into the machine room and sits down on the fucking Leg Press Machine directly in Dan’s line of sight.

Dan barely avoids faceplanting on the treadmill in shock.

The next thirty minutes are a test to his already frayed nerves that Dan wouldn’t have expected to pass, but somehow he managed to play it cool and he doesn’t stare too obviously (he hopes) nor does he make a complete fool of himself in front of his kind-of-celebrity crush (he thinks), dealing a fatal blow to his self-esteem and ruining one of his favourite places to unwind in one fell swoop.

They’re both wearing headphones, and he’s still starstruck and a bit shocked that Amazingphil of all people just walked into his regular gym in a tight green t-shirt that brings out his eyes and tight black shorts that bring out… other assets, so he doesn’t even try to strike up a conversation. He’s too nervous, anyway, he’d probably embarrass himself, and then he’d be out of a gym because there is no way he’d come back here if that were to happen. He doesn’t want to have to scope out gyms again, that way lies madness.

So Dan finishes his set, grabs his things, and he nods to Amazingphil as he leaves. And he doesn’t go hide in the bathroom for a little freak out; he can freak out at home, like a functional adult.

Now, Dan isn’t the huge fan of youtube he used to be when he was a teenager, but he still follows a few channels religiously. Amazingphil and PhilGAMES are the only ones he has the notifications on for, because he may be a grown man and a professional these days, but Phil still holds a special place in his heart. (So what if he never got over his teenage crush, have you seen Phil’s smile? He’s only human, and there’s nothing wrong with a harmless crush on an unattainable sort-of-celebrity. Sue him.)

***

Phil came out officially a few years ago, but it’s been pretty obvious that he was bi from way back on his early days of youtube, so when he tries going to the gym and decides to make a video about what a disaster it was, he doesn’t think twice about going on a rant in the video about how as he was leaving, he saw the most gorgeous man working out and he may or may not have decided to get some exercise on the machines instead of running away because he wanted to stare at this earthly Adonis for a little while.

“And that’s the story of how I went to the gym, almost died because I was too socially anxious to tell the instructor the workout was too intense for me, went to hide in the bathroom to catch my breath for 15 minutes, then went to run away without saying goodbye, saw the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on and felt compelled to man up, go back to tell Leon that it wasn’t working out for me and that I’d like to try the machines so that I could go at my own pace, then embarrassed myself by being the most unfit person in Britain in front of a fitness god with the face of an angel. But hey, I least I got some exercise in! Also, I may be going again just to see if I run into him again. Not to talk to him, or ask him out, I just want to bask in his beauty. What’s the bi equivalent of a useless lesbian? Because that’s me. Oh, I know! A disaster bi. I’m pretty sure I’ve read that somewhere,” he ends with a laugh.

“That’s not creepy, right? Is that creepy?” he asks PJ later. PJ laughs at him, but reassures him that so long as he’s respectful and doesn’t stalk this guy or something, it’s fine. And really, Phil probably couldn’t be a creep if he tried. He’s too polite, and also too good a person to actually put his own selfish desires above someone else’s comfort.

Slightly reassured, Phil goes back to the gym again to try his luck. He wasn’t completely serious in his video, he’s not going to keep going to the gym to stare longingly at this guy. He’s hoping to talk to him at some point, feel him out (metaphorically!) to see if he may be interested. He’s not going to just ask him out out of nowhere, but maybe, if he seems like he might be receptive to it…

***

Dan does have a little freakout as he goes back home, but then life goes on, and he doesn’t see Phil again in the gym for the rest of the week. He figures it’s probably a fluke. Phil has mentioned repeatedly in his videos that’s he’s terribly unfit and that he doesn’t enjoy working out at all, though he’s tried a few times to get into the swing of it. That’s probably what happened, he’s tried it again (it isn’t lost on Dan that it’s the middle of January, and Phil has joked that getting fit is always one of his New Year’s resolutions), but he’ll probably get bored soon.

The big freakout comes four days after, when he gets a notification that Amazingphil has uploaded a video called “Why I should probably not go back to the gym… but will anyway”. He’s glad he waits until he’s home to watch it, because whatever he was expecting (oh god, will he mention the awkward nerd who almost fell off the treadmill when he walked in and kept sneaking looks at him? Shit, did I make him uncomfortable?), it was not this.

Phil wasn’t even going to try the machines? He was walking past and saw Dan and stayed to stare at him?? He thought Dan was attractive? Very attractive even? He was thinking of coming back to stare at Dan some more?? Was this even real? Was he just building up a story to make an entertaining video? What was going on? Was this real life? Oh god, he actually goes on a minute-long rant about how gorgeous Dan is and he might have to go scream on a pillow, what is his life. Dan had looked in the mirror when he went home after the awkward gym kind-of-encounter that day; he’d finished an hour long session of exercise and he’d looked it. He was tired and sweaty and he’d worn his too big grey exercise t-shirt that day. He’d looked like the exhausted, emo-adjacent, sweaty rat that he was, what was Phil talking about?

***

The next time, Phil tries talking to him. Nothing too ambitious, just some small talk.

He takes his chance when the man stops the machine he’s on and steps away, pulling his headphones off and into his backpack.

“Hey, um, hi,” Phil says and gives a little wave. “Sorry to bother you, I just signed in last week and I was wondering if you’ve been coming here for long?”

The man looks a bit surprised, but not bothered, to Phil’s relief.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, a bit over a year?” His phone beeps and he looks at it distractedly, but he keeps talking. “Since I moved in to London, really.” He puts his phone back and turns his attention to Phil again. Phil beams at him.

“Oh, that’s great!” he maybe sounds a bit too excited about that, but he’s a bit nervous and he’s glad the guy is volunteering information and seems to be okay talking to him. “I don’t know much about gyms, or exercise, as you can see,” Phil joked, waving his right arm to encompass himself, illustrating his unfit condition, “so I thought I’d ask someone for… suggestions, I guess? If that’s okay”.

The man looks surprised again for a second, but then he looks him up and down appreciatively and once he’s made it all the way up to Phil’s eyes again, he declares, “I don’t know that you need any. I think you look great”.

Phil is startled into a quiet laugh and he can feel the blush on his face, but he can’t be too bothered given the current situation.

“I’m Dan,” the man smiles at him, and Phil suddenly feels like a deer in the headlights. Oh god, he has dimples. The humanity. He’s actually a thousand times more attractive when he smiles, how? Phil has the urge to do something stupid. He powers through it, but he’s taken a critical hit, and he probably comes off as extremely weird through the rest of the short conversation. Not that he isn’t weird. He’s made a whole series of youtube videos about it. It’s part of his core branding.

“I’d be happy to give you some tips, or whatever it is you’re looking for,” Dan starts, then his phone beeps again, and he interrupts whatever he was going to say to check it, again, then sighs. “Sorry, I’d love to help you out right now, but I really need to go… deal with this client.” His phone makes another, different sound, and Phil can see Dan isn’t happy about it, but then he shoves the phone away and when he turns to Phil again, he has a small, shy-looking smile on his face. Phil is a goner.

“If you want... I come here every day from six to seven or so, except Sundays. If you come around that time, I’d be happy to help you?” The words lift into a question, into an invitation that Phil can take or leave.

Phil recognises that it’s a very open invitation. If he actually wants help and nothing else, Dan would probably indulge him. If Phil was uncomfortable and didn’t want to run into him again, he now knows what time Dan comes and can plan around it to avoid him. And if he wants something else, like, say, misuse his gym membership card to come flirt with a gorgeous guy he met in the machine room…

Dan is picking up his stuff, conspicuously giving him some breathing room, and Phil realises he might have come off as uninterested, which is the opposite of what he wants to do now that Dan’s flirted with him first, so he smiles and brings out the bedroom eyes.

“That’d be brilliant. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

Phil’s gratified to see Dan looks affected, if the searing look he throws his way is any indication, but after a few seconds, his phone beeps again and he’s moving to leave.

“Good,” he says, his slightly crooked smile giving Phil ample incentive to stick to his New Year’s resolution for once. “I’ll see you around, then”.

Now, because Phil is a useless bisexual, it is only at this point that he realises he’s never offered his name, and Dan is turning to leave, so he blurts it out.

“My name’s Phil, by the way!”

Dan stops, turns back to him and gives him another one of those devastating smiles, the kind that brings out his dimples, and Phil may be swooning.

“Phil,” Dan says, less as if he’s trying out the word and more as if he’s relishing in it. “I look forward to seeing you again”. The he turns and actually leaves.

Phil is left alone in the machine room, staring at the door Dan left through and smiling like a lunatic for the next couple of minutes.

***

“Okay, I have a confession to make,” Dan starts before they even open the menus.

“Okay?”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way. I just… feel like I need to tell you this if we’re actually going to do this.”

Okay, now Phil is a little worried, but he’s open to hear Dan out on whatever it is. He really likes Dan an unreasonable amount for how recently they’ve met and how little time they’ve spent together. He’d like to think he’s an open-minded person, and so he quickly decides that he’ll be kind no matter what it is that’s making Dan look this nervous.

“Okay. I’m listening.” Phil wants to hold Dan’s hand to maybe put him at ease, but he’s not sure if that would help or make things worse, so he refrains.

“Right. Okay.” Dan takes a deep breath. ”Um. Okay. I… knew your name. That day we talked for the first time. And the time before that, really, when I first saw you in the gym.”

“Okay?” He doesn’t know what Dan is hinting at.

“I know who you are, I mean. I’ve known who you are since 2006, when I first became obsessed with Youtube.”

Oh.

“Oh.” Phil wasn’t expecting that, but he’s not sure why something like that would make Dan this nervous, so he figures there’s more. When Dan doesn’t elaborate, but rather keeps looking at him in silence, Phil tries to break the ice. “So, you used to watch my videos?”

Dan relaxes a little as Phil smiles at him. “Yeah. I was a huge fan, actually.” He still looks nervous, so Phil decides to throw caution to the wind and move to hold his hand anyway. When he reaches out and threads their fingers together over the table, Dan gives him a questioning look, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he moves his thumb to gently rub Phil’s hand, and manages a shaky smile.

Did he think Phil was going to be upset that Dan liked his videos as a teenager? Or that Phil maybe wouldn’t want to date someone who used to be a viewer? That was crazy. This was actually great, as it meant Dan had to have some idea of what he was getting into, dating a youtuber. It also meant Phil wouldn’t have to explain Youtube to him, or his nosey audience, or why there was a good chance their dates would be interrupted by people asking for a picture with him. The only reason Phil had chosen this restaurant for their first proper date (flirting at the gym didn’t count as proper dates) and had gone for a private room was so that he could get the explanation out of the way before that happened.

“I don’t mind, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he reassures Dan. “That’s actually really flattering. Though I wonder what I did to lose you as a viewer,” Phil jokes.

Dan winces and says. “You didn’t.”

Now Phil’s eyebrows shoot up, but he still doesn’t pull his hand away. It gives Dan the strength he couldn’t seem to gather before.

“I started watching you early on, and watched you all through college. I used to watch a lot of youtube then. I gradually stopped watching Youtube as a whole when I graduated and got a job, as a result of a mixture of lack of time and waning interest, but there’s a few channels I still check out every once in a while. Yours is among them.”

Phil squeezes his hand reassuringly, and grins. “Do you follow my social media accounts?”

“Um. Yeah. Instagram.”

Phil grinned warmly, “Really? So you like looking at me. Good to know.”

Dan made an embarrassed little noise of protest, but he couldn’t really argue. “You’re nice to look at.” He was blushing a little, but he was also looking him in the eye now, shy but determined. Phil got distracted by the little rosy patch that formed right over his jaw.

“Do you follow me on twitter? Or on Tumblr? Do you troll the IDB forums?” Phil is full on teasing him now. It seems highly unlikely that Dan is one of his most invested fans; in fact, the idea is kind of hilarious. And also kind of hot. He might revisit that idea later. In private.

Dan laughs, “No, and no, and I don’t even know what that last one is, do I want to know?”

“It’s a fan forum. It’s… very comprehensive. There’s a lot of information and speculation going on there. You know, actual fandom stuff.”

Dan scoffs at that, but he’s still smiling, so Phil counts it as a win. “I’m not in the fandom. Ha, I wouldn’t have even had the time for it until recently, with the way I let work take over my life. Just… you know. I watch your videos.”

“And you follow my Insta,” Phil reminded him.

“Okay, that too.”

“Is that why you watch my videos? Because you think I’m ‘nice to look at’?” Phil teases.

“Well, I mean, that certainly helped,” Dan answers candidly, and damn it, now it’s Phil’s turn to blush. “But I wouldn’t have kept watching if you weren’t also hilarious. You’re just fun to watch, you know?”

Phil is thinking this is all immensely cute when it dawns on him what his next to last video was. “Oh no. Oh no, god, you still watch my videos.” His hand is gripping Dan’s like a lifeline in mortification.

“Yeah…?”

“Mfph,” Phil says from behind his other hand. Which he is trying and failing to hide behind. His right hand hasn’t even tried to let go of Dan’s, so Dan doesn’t panic. Mostly.

“You saw my video, didn’t you? The gym video? Where I go on and on about how fit you are?”

“Yep;” Dan answered cheekily.

Phil moaned in embarrassment behind his hand and Dan laughs. It sounds about as beautiful as he is, which is saying a lot. Okay, Phil may be a bit smitten, but he thinks he has reason to be, all things considered.

“Instant favourite. How do you think I managed to find the guts to flirt with you?”

At that, Phil peeks out of his hand.

“I wasn’t sure if you even meant it, but. I mean, I know you must exaggerate or even make up part of your stories to make them entertaining for an audience. But. I mean, you did go on for about two minutes about how gorgeous I was, so,” Dan laughs a bit under his breath and Phil is so charmed he finally pulls his hand away from his face. “I figured I probably had a chance if you ever showed up in the gym again.”

“I meant it,” Phil tells him. The way Dan is looking at him, joy and affection and attraction (a look that would later be dubbed ‘Heart Eyes Howell’ by Phil’s fans), prompts Phil to admit “...I actually had to reshoot that because I went on quite the lengthy rant about it the first time. And then I had to cut some of it from the take you did see, so that it wouldn’t jar the flow of the video.”

Phil is blushing again, but Dan looks thrilled, so he doesn’t mind too much.

***

Amazingphil posted “Life Update! Amazing Boyfriend? (Not Clickbait)”

“Hi guys! So, a lot of people have been asking about this on twitter - *zoom in* and everywhere else *laughs, zoom out* so I thought I’d let you know what’s been going on in my life.

Yes, I’m dating someone. Yes, it’s a guy. Yes, I’m very happy about it and you all should be grateful I have some self-control because if I had immediately given in to the urge to gush about him, you’d all be sick of it by now. *laughs*

So, anyway! In this video, I’ll tell you a little about how we met, and I think some of you will be pleasantly surprised to find out that I’ve actually mentioned him before in a past video.

Remember when I said this? [clip of the gym video where he talks about how his struggles in the gym led him to stumbling upon the Most Beautiful Man In The World.]

Weeeell… *looks to the side*

I did go back, as it turns out, and I didn’t see him again. But I was already there, so I might as well do some exercise, right? So I did, and nothing happened, and I came back home tired and sore and slightly disappointed.

But then! The next time I went, I caught him just as he was finishing his, like, workout day, or whatever it is that people who exercise regularly call it, and I thought to myself, ‘Phil. This is your chance. Just talk to him. Make some small talk. No pressure, just some casual human interaction. Just a chill talk with the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. Nothing to be nervous about! *laughs, closes his eyes and shakes his head at himself*

So, I give myself a little pep talk, I pluck up my courage, and I. Go. Talk to him! *celebratory music*

And what does he do? *Phil enunciates, giggly* What does he do as I start talking to him, just trying to set up a friendly, relaxed atmosphere? Just opening up the lines of communication, you know, some casual bants? Do you know what he does? He immediately, shamelessly, flirts with me. *Phil laughs again*

I was… shook.

So, we talked a little but then he had to go - which I was actually grateful for because by that time I was freaking out internally and I didn’t want to make a complete fool of myself - but! We arranged to meet again, in the gym.

And the next time we did meet, I asked him out. On an actual date, not just… hanging out in the gym so that I had to awkwardly try not to embarrass myself as I work out in front of him even though I’m terrible at it.

So, long story short, we’ve been dating since then. *celebratory music*

So now you know. I am officially dating the Most Beautiful Man In The World.

*soft background music stops* Not even kidding, he’s the most attractive person I’ve seen in my life. It’s kind of surreal.

*music resumes*

So! I know some of you guys have been asking to meet him, as it were, and I have good news for you! I will be making a video with him soon, probably in the next week, so look out for that! Also, *zoom in* be nice to him, please, he’s wonderful and I’m really happy he’s in my life. Let’s not drive him away, yeah! *laughs*

*zooms out* I’m kidding! He knows you’re all crazy, I told him all about you guys. And he seems ready to adopt you all anyway, so that’s alright. The poor bastard.

Anyway, that’s it for today! I hope you all have a great day! Please press like if you liked the video, I actually want to know if you guys enjoy this type of casual life update... talk-type thing and if I should make more of these. Click the subscribe button if you want to see more of me, and click the notification bell to be told when I post a new video! Check out my gaming channel! And I’ll see you guys soon! Byeee!”

#PFF Bingo Fest 2018 #phandom fic fest #phandom fic fests bingo #phanfic #phan #am i writing now

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lukesreggie · 6 years

Note

What do you think their first snow in paradise is like? (feel free to pretend Newt and Teresa are still around bc I know I do)

I hope you’re tucked in real nice and cozy!!!! this is more than four pages of notes!!!!! Lol. Enjoy!!!!! I DID

This kind of went from first now in safe haven to skii lodge/winter cabin/Christmas AU lolllll anyways, [strums guitar] here’s snowy safe haven

When he first lays his eyes on the falling snow, Newt’s stomach swirls uncomfortably. An inexplicable dread washes over him. Thomas notices his sudden furrowed brows, taking Newt’s hand in his. “hey, you okay?” “…yeah.”

With his hand in Thomas’, Newt’s eyes would travel across the grounds, gravitating towards Sonya, who was sitting next to Harriet with the same confusion plastered on her face. Only to find, that she was already looking at him.

They both felt their chests tightening, fingers closing around their hearts like a vice. Sonya looked away. Newt…couldn’t. He didn’t know why, but when he looked at Sonya, he felt an urge to protectively wrap his arms around her and never let go.

Newt could see blurred faces. He could see white snowflakes floating, sinking, in the air through a small window. He could hear muffled voices, but no words could be distinguished.

Teresa would start a snowball fight, pelting Newt in the face and bringing him out of his daze.

She hit Thomas next while the two were trying to locate her, and soon a full on snowball fight was initiated.

Sonya and Harriet were using each other’s bodies for cover, giggling as they tried to throw their bodies in front of each other

Minho would THROW himself in front of Brenda with a dramatic “I’ll protect you!!” and she’d grab a handful of snow and shove it down the back of his shirt.

They’d end up chasing each other across the beach that was now covered in a white blanket, throwing handfuls of snow at each other and not bothering to roll it into balls

Chuck would make snow angels with Thomas and Teresa while Newt just stands beside them watching with a smile on his face.

Gally, Beth and Ben would help Chuck make igloos and snow forts with other kids

Minho would tease him about it and call him the safe haven Dad

Gally would shove him into a big pile of snow and walk away, but he’d be hiding a tiny smile because he secretly likes that title

Frypan would make everyone hot chocolate

Thomas would spill his cup everywhere and Chuck would make a joke about how it looks like he klunked

Newt and Minho would l a u g h at the face Thomas made when he fell face first into the snow as he ran away from Teresa who was chasing him with a bunch of snowballs gathered in her arms

“Looks like nothing’s changed, eh, Tommy?”

Alby would make snow people with the safe haven kids, stealing carrots from fry’s kitchen

Fry doesn’t mind, he loves seeing how happy everyone is in this moment

Zart decorates his cactus with tinsel and one single bauble

Zart pelts EVERYONE with snowballs, especially Gally. Zart has no fears. He is the last man standing.

Newt wants no part in the snowball fight so he hides in one of the igloos Alby made (with Chuck’s help) until Thomas, Minho and Brenda find him and flush him out by throwing snowballs at him. Thomas and Minho let out a weird war cry.

Thomas and Rachel sneak attack Aris, dumping heaps of snow on his head

Aris and Rachel find mistletoe

Aris reaches up to touch it and Rachel smacks his hand away – “NO touching the mistletoe. Leave it there.” “But I wanna.” She distracts him by kissing him under it instead.

Minho tricks Brenda into standing beneath the mistletoe. He tries to kiss her but she dodges it and he ends up kissing Gally.

Beth just bursts out laughing

That kiss was Gally’s Bi Awakening (because NO ONE IN TMR IS STRAIGHT DO NOT FIGHT ME ON THIS)

Gally sees the finished product of the igloo Beth was building with some kids: “that’s a…strong igloo.” “…it’s solid water that can melt from heat.”

Frypan watches them a few feet away like “hell no. i’m not dealing with you too.”

The ocean has frozen over because of the cold

Ice skating!!!

Sonya and Harriet are the best skaters, doing figure eights and other fancy moves while wearing matching mittens

Newt is SO UNCOORDINATED and Thomas tried to be a Good Boyfriend but forgets how clumsy he is and the two are falling all over the place

Thomas is crap at skating, but good enough to support Newt on the ice, who can’t be on his own because his leg doesn’t allow him. They just muddle around together closer to shore, laughing and in their own little world while Brenda laps them at speed

Brenda and Teresa hold hands and spin together

Frypan secretly teaches Newt to stake in the middle of the night. One morning at sunrise, Newt surprises Thomas.

Newt still isn’t great, but Thomas is so Proud of him and just kisses him when they’re a little further out from shore. They both fall and Thomas just sits there gazing at Newt lovingly and tearing up like wow

Jeff furiously curses the weather because he has to keep patching people up after they repeatedly get hammered by teresa’s snowballs, and because Newt and Thomas keep falling on the ice.

“How did you even get out there? Your leg–” “Just see if you can reach me without falling over, Tommy.” “Even with a gimp leg your boyfriend is better than you, Thomas!” “Minho, I will cut you with my skates.”

Brenda normalizes Newt’s leg injury on the ice and in any other activity because she knows how frustrating constant pity and concern is: “Come on, slow poke. Hustle a little!”

Zart brings his cactus on the ice and surprises everyone with how skilled he is at skating

Aris decided to eat a berry from the mistletoe plant he had found with Rachel earlier and now Jeff and Clint have to deal with that too

Jorge is Brenda’s personal cheerleader on the ice “esa es mi chica!” (’that’s my girl!” and calls her his hija (”daughter”) and mi corazón ALLLL the time [wow Jorge is the only dad i will ever accept as a Dad – AND VINCE. jfc]

After a day in the snow, everyone heads inside for the evening and cuddles up by the open fire that Gally and Alby built. They sit/sleep on whatever they have at their disposal from the times Jorge and Vince went scavenging for materials; their hammocks, rugs, maybe a few sleeping bags and worn mattresses

Frypan made hot chocolate for everyone

Thomas’ sleeping bag catches fire

Thominewt run outside and throw it in the snow.

Newt makes Thomas sleep with him in his sleeping bag despite the very tight fit. “Newt there’s not enough room” ”Don’t be a twat about it, Tommy. Come on.” Newt gives him that same knowing innocent smile (LIKE THAT DAMN SMILE IN TDC WHEN HE WAS LIKE “lol you have no choice twat, we’re coming with you.”) while he sits in his sleeping bag in his pyjamas. Thomas slips in beside him and rests his head on Newt’s chest and they cuddle and aH

Gally spikes the hot chocolate

Newt drunkenly flirts with Thomas “guess we gotta share now, Tommy,”

Gally threw Minho’s right skate into the bonfire earlier

Minho calculated his moves carefully while trying to find it, growing annoyed at Gally and his stupid pranks

Ben saw Gally do it but didn’t say anything and just watched Minho slowly lose his mind over one missing skate

Minho started chasing Gally around with his left skate until Teresa pulled the safe haven Mom card and put them both in separate corners

Later that same evening when they went to light the bonfire, Frypan noticed something in it and tried to hide a laugh. “Min– are you still missing something?” “Gally – where is that shuckfaced Shank– I’m going to kill him.” “Minho no, wait! Someone stop him!”

Newtmas cuddling to stay warm

Snowflakes in Newt’s fluffy hair

Newt catches snowflakes on his tongue and Thomas just smiles at him

Rachel and Minho roll their eyes at everyone’s shenanigans and go get extra blankets

Brenda and Jorge are both impartial to the cold

But Brenda tries to hide how much she is freezing

Rachel is used to the cold, but Aris isn’t. He gets cold easily.

Newt wears mittens

Thomas makes fun of him all the time, but when Chuckie (safe haven dog) accidentally bites a finger off of his glove, Newt give him his mitten and Thomas tries to hide how much he loves it but Newt stays silent and just gives him a knowing smirk

Sonya and Harriet don’t have gloves so they put their hands in each other’s pockets

Minho and Teresa hanging up mistletoe ALL OVER THE PLACE just to get everyone to kiss

Thomas and Newt give Chuckie one of Minho’s boots and tell him to hide it

Newt kisses Thomas under every single mistletoe

Newt drags Thomas under every single one, just so he can kiss Thomas repeatedly

“Newt, come on i’m hungry” “There are only 7 more, Tommy, come on"

Frypan is cracking up in the background. he keeps moving them so they LOOK like they’re new

Thomas is just rolling his eyes but he highkey loves it

Newt on skiis is WORSE than skates oh my GOD

Thomas on skiis is a recipe for disaster. He cannot control himself and in one go he takes out Minho, Brenda and Teresa

Brenda and Harriet race down the slopes on their boards

Vince joins in after little persuasion from the two girls and Jorge

Jorge stands by, cheering his girls on and does not hide the impressed look on his face when he sees how skilled Vince is at snowboarding

Sonya and Minho are waiting at the bottom with hot chocolate and proud kisses

Minho totally snowboards like a pro. Someone gets whacked over the head with a ski. Someone mistakenly ends up on the DEATH LEVEL slope and four people end up wrapped around a tree

Gally sneaks off to the bunny slopes when no one is looking

Alby’s already there like “YOU TOO???”

Thomas and Newt share a ski lift

Thomas drops his hat. It smacks Gally in the face on a run down the slope

Thomas kisses Newt and Minho from behind is all like “GET A ROOM!” Newt flips him off and doesn’t stop kissing him

Sonya and Harriet share a sled

Being snowed in with a dwindling supply of food

Game room in the lodge where Minho owns everyone at the dance games

Frypan finds two tennis rackets and says he’ll brave the wilderness to find rations

Christmas pyjamas

Sonya and Harriet wear matching onesies

Brenda wears flannel.

Sonya, Harriet, Aris and Rachel wear matching onesies with Aris’ fluffy boots

Christmas Morning - they can’t get Brenda to wake up. She sleeps like the dead. After 5 phone calls, 3 people knocking and 2 screaming her name, Gally climbs through her window from the outside ledge between their rooms. He shakes her awake. She punches him in the face.

She didn’t mean to - she’s saying that all morning. It was reflex.

Gally’s black eye doesn’t believe her

Minho following Gally in through the window: “well consider me both scared and aroused.”

Sonya offers to add eyeshadow to the other eye to make it match. Harriet spits her drink out laughing

Gally threatens to lock them both out on the balcony

Sonya and Harriet share a look and shrug. They’re not mad about it. They go out there anyway

Newt and Thomas keep sneaking to the kitchen to steal gingerbread cookies. “NOT BEFORE DINNER!“ But Frypan sneaks Newt two of them that he made that are holding hands

Teresa helps Chuck rip his presents open and they throw the shreds of wrapping paper at each other

Jorge takes a LOT of photos of everyone together

Jorge and Vince help Frypan prepare food – the two learn from him.

Frypan has a soft spot for Brenda so he lets her have as many cookies as she wants, which she then splits in half and gives to Teresa

Teresa often supervises to make sure nothing chaotic goes on in the kitchen – Jorge and Vince try to tell her she doesn’t need to but she always counters with the time Gally almost cut Jorge’s finger off while subbing for Vince. Everyone vowed never to let Gally make food again after that.

Newt teases Thomas into wearing a matching christmas sweater with him: “You love ugly christmas sweaters, don’t you babe?” Thomas just grumbles. “Alright, fine, i look better than you would in it anyway.”

Later when Thomas comes down for Christmas dinner, he is wearing the sweater to match Newt’s, and Newt just melts. “So I do look better in it.” “Shut up,” Thomas tugs Newt over by his shirt collar and kisses him.

ALRIGHTTT that’s all I got so far, I may add more if I think of any!

Huge thanks to my tmr fam for helping with this.

Sorry it took so long (almost 3 months wow)!!! I hope you like these.

Tagging: @glader-of-wicked @your-local-geek @newthomally @thomasnewts @comebacknow @seaselkie @demented-russian-empress-of-hell @harveylovesmike @museelo @abyssith

#uhhhh tell me if you want to be tagged for future hcs!!! i have more coming up #i love brinho but my heart is crying bc i didnt make this brenderesa sdnfanfajkfn #goD #safe haven #tdc #safe haven hc #hc #au #tmr au #tmr #you can never have too much newtmas!!!!!!!!!!!#WOO im so PRUD of myself holy hell i finally fucking DID IT #I bafucking did it #!!!!!!#Anonymous

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lunafeather · 3 years

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Hi, for the WIP for Brio: Lee's fic fic, post season 3 and/or don't let me go but not. And also the urban fantasy script sounds intriguing. No pressure, but very excited about potential new Brio fic from you, I love your writing!

Man, everyone has been super sweet and that makes me feel warm and toasty inside!!

Lee’s fic fic

So everyone knows and loves @johnisntevendead (ConvolutedConcussions)’s story Better Than a Harmony. Lee is/was my fic enabler (and I theirs) and we collaborated on this idea. I am obviously super in love with it, and I was inspired to write a fic of their morning after their first time in that universe -- so basically a fic of a fic. I had a really strong idea and wrote a very small bit and then it disappeared into the wind.... If they ever pick it up again, I may get reinspired! The fic was meant to be sleepy fluffy morning smut.

An Excerpt:

The first thing he's aware of is that his hand is full of warm softness. The next thing he's aware of is that he's naked, and after that -- he's not alone. This final point is punctuated by a delicious roll of wide hips against an impressive bout of morning wood, and he buries his nose in her hair to smother a groan.

“Time to get up already, ma?”

“Oh, you're the one who's up already…” she murmurs, grinding back again. “Hard to sleep through almost being impaled.”

Post S3

Answered Here

Don’t Let Go but not

My original idea for this prompt was a bit different: Beth and Dean are at this soccer league/PTA “potluck” that’s more like a little carnival, much to Rio’s chagrin. Beth sees Rio and tries to avoid him, tries to keep Dean from seeing him, but fails. They get into a fight and Dean storms off. Rio ruthlessly teases her, not realizing how upset she is. Dean retaliates by flirting openly with one of the other mom’s at the potluck, Beth is furious but doesn’t say anything -- just keeps drinking. Eventually one of the PTA moms mocks Beth because of Dean and Beth loses her shit.. Rio steps in when Dean can’t handle it, telling Dean to take his children home while he handles Beth. He takes Beth to his car with Marcus, who sweetly asks if Miss Elizabeth is okay, she suddenly goes ramrod straight despite her drunkenness. Rio gets her in his car and holds her hand, she tells him “don’t let go”.

I love how silly the idea is, and I love the fluffiness of it, and I also had a strong start -- and then I lost the idea and it drifted to what is now Don’t Let Go on AO3.

An Excerpt:

He wasn’t planning on going; he’s got too much shit to do and the idea of spending more than 10 minutes with the insufferable, snotty white suburban moms and stuck up, too-tight collared blonde, tanned suburban dads leaves a sour taste on his tongue, and he’s not sure he’s up for it, even with Marcus jutting out his lower lip and letting it wobble just so -- he doesn’t want to examine where his kid learned that particular trick -- and his ex giving him a pointed look that reeks of you-were-gone-for-three-months-and-you-owe-it-to-him.

But that tiny part of him that’s always fixated on her, his strawberry blonde, whitest of the white suburban mamas (but so much more than that, a voice whispers), urges him to finally cave and agree to take Marcus to this damn end-of-the-soccer-season potluck. Rhea had for some reason not switched their kid to a different team after the debacle with Elizabeth inserting herself into their lives (likely, he surmises, due to that lip wobble), and these kind of events scream Elizabeth’s name, so he’s certain she’ll be there with her brood. Maybe even with her dumbass husband, too.

He also would rather not examine why the thought of getting all up in her business while her husband watches gets him feeling a certain kind of way.

His hemming and hawing means he and Marcus are an hour or so late, including the time it takes to swing by a french bakery to pick up dessert as his contribution to the party. As soon as Marcus spills out of his G wagon, the kid is beelining to the playground, shrieking Jane’s name and colliding with her as she tumbles down one of the slides.

Urban Fantasy Web/TV Series

Another Lee/Meghan Collaboration! We’re both queer and interested in very modern settings with fantasy woven in, so we took an idea I had been fostering for a while and went back and forth for a while until we had a solid concept. It would probably be a Web Series as those are easier to self produce, but I would much rather see it as a one hour TV series. Alas, that’s a while off, so a web series works for now!

The main character of our story is not the main character of her Universe’s story -- the “Main Magical Girl” is a huge lesbian disaster and is often not around, seeing as she’s like.... doing stuff to save their world. Our lead woman is a bookworm who stumbles on a secret society of sorts who protects the knowledge that every book in this universe isn’t actually a book; each one is a recording of the goings on in other universes that really exist.

Magic in this world is illegal. There are other magical sentient races: Faeries, Nymphs, and Pixies (who are tiny and treated like vermin, so they have to hide. The MC has one living in the walls of her apartment that she befriends). The Fae world exists alongside the human one, there’s halflings for most of the races. There are different schools of magic.

Our MC starts talking to another woman through the books, and they eventually fall in love. Other girl is in trouble in her world, and there’s something evil stalking her. They eventually learn how to open portals between books. Our MC isn’t inherently versed in the known magical schools, but has her own type.

There’s quite a few awesome supporting characters: Corvo, the bi halfling black man who was once in an apprenticeship to be a Librarian who now runs an independent book store and has a special relationship with corvids; Tessa, our MC’s bi activist cousin who is feisty and sarcastic and ends up falling deeply in love with Corvo; Corvo’s big beefy ex bf who’s a sweet, gentle gay disaster; Artemis, the deaf non-white witch who runs a magic speakeasy and has circle runes tattooed on her fingers and palms to boost her magic.

The villain is capitalism/racism/power obsession.

I often tag stuff that inspires me for this series, the most common being ones that remind me of Corvo (tagged on my blog with that name). I really, really, really want to eventually make this happen, I am so in love with the idea, and so in love with the core 4 characters.

An Excerpt:

Close to the climax, within the third act, Sage and Aya communicate through a stable portal and Sage is giving Aya what she needs to save her world…

SAGE: Hey, one more thing. AYA: What?

SAGE reaches into the portal and drags AYA forward, their lips touch just where each of their worlds meet. The kiss is passionate. When it ends, they press their foreheads together for a brief moment.

SAGE: I, uh--I believe in you.

Sage and Tessa, in the dead of night (for the dramz) have a book they absolutely should not have and are planning on finally opening the portal into Aya’s world--their plan is nebulous at best, they’re gonna bring Aya into this world, not realizing it’s not just her who’s in danger, but her entire world. Corvo interrupts in grand fashion, telling them to stop, that they don’t know what they’re doing.

TESSA: She’s in danger and they’re in love! Also, fuck you! CORVO: No, you don’t get it--you two? Cannot do this. Also, you’ll sorta cause the apocalypse. She’ll die, we’ll die… lots of death. TESSA: I’m sorry, who the fuck are you? CORVO: Never mind who I am, you’ve got bigger shit to worry about--you think your shenanigans didn’t put you on their radar?? TESSA, looking incredulous: “Shenanigans?”

Some noise, like a clatter or footsteps, signals they are not alone.

CORVO: Oh, shitting f--you gotta get outta here and put that thing back where it came from. [He either points at the book or hands it to Sage or Tessa.]

Thank you so much for your kind words about my writing, it seriously gives me that boost to keep writing when I start losing steam. Thank you, thank you, thank you <3

Send me a title from my list of WIPs that you’d like to know more about!

#Luna writes #ask meme answer #Anonymous #ask answer

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