just expect the comments

Church Boys Moan Louder

THIS WAS A PROMPT BUT I FUCKED UP AND ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT EARLY SO NOW ITS GONE FOREVER IM SORRY ANON BUT I STILL WANTED TO FINISH IT SO YE the prompt was basically innocent religious dan and phil like pines after him ; ending in sex in church bathroom and yes, you are going to hell

it’s also really long oops

~

Phil was fucking screwed. Never had he wanted someone so bad as he wanted Dan Howell. That boy fucked with his head and his body and his life. And he wasn’t even TRYING.

If he was trying, he was doing a damn good job at hiding it. Dan seemed completely oblivious to Phil’s attempts to win him over. The light blush on his cheeks said otherwise, but Dan ignored it completely. Dan was the goddamn priests son, but Phil liked a challenge. And this definitely was one.

Phil took another sip of the dumb nonalcoholic punch they were serving, scowling at the plastic cup. He shouldn’t be here, at this dumb church party, he didn’t have to be. It was optional, unlike the weekly services he was required to attend due to his parents getting pissed that he had defiled the school with graffiti yet again. It wasn’t that bad, he got to see Dan at least. But the only reason he was here was for him.

“Hey,” a girl spoke, interrupting Phil’s thoughts. He turned to look at her, scanning her blonde hair and plaid school uniform. Who wears a uniform to a party? Church kids, Phil figured.

“Uh, hey,” Phil responded, sounding completely uninterested, but she didn’t take a hint.

“Fun party, huh?”

Phil raised his eyebrows at her, chuckling, pulling a flask out of his leather jacket pocket and tipping the clear liquid into the cup.

“No, not particularly.”

She seemed a bit put off by that, but bounced back quickly.

“So, do you know anyone here?” She asked, her voice light and Phil swore he heard a hint of flirtiness in her tone

Phil chuckled, his eyes glinting.

“Look, sorry honey, but if you’re trying to get in my pants you might as well give up now. I like cock, dunno if your tiny brain can wrap itself around that, but the only reason I’m here is that I want to fuck Dan Howell.” He casually picked at a black nail, flashing her a tight lipped smile. “So, if you still want to bother me after that, feel free. But I’m gay as hell. Just saying.”

The girl stared at him, her eyes wide and her jaw practically hitting the ground. Phil chuckled. He loved doing that.

She let out a small squeak, whirling on her heel and rushing off. Phil shook his head.

Phil cursed under his breath as he watched her beeline straight to Dan and his group of friends at the other side of the room. Phil couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she pointed at him less than subtly. A blush appeared immediately on Dan’s face, a hand going to cover his mouth automatically. He said something, and glanced over at Phil. Phil winked, waving. Might as well commit.

Dan blushed harder, looking away immediately and pressing his hands to his clearly heated cheeks. Phil smirked. He loved how much of an affect this had on him. He was so responsive.

Phil would just have to wait until he was alone.


~


It was about half an hour of boredom and wanting to leave later when Dan’s friends started to leave one by one, and Phil watched them almost hungrily until the only one left was the girl who had talked to him.

Phil moved along the wall a little closer, straining to hear their conversation. He couldn’t hear her but he heard Dan say “Silvia, I’m fine, I’m just gonna help clean up. I can take care of myself.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with walking home alone?”

“Of course. It’s just a few blocks over.” He offered her a soft smile, touching her shoulder, and Phil’s heart swelled. Damn it. “It’ll be fine. I’ll see you at school, alright?”

“Alright…” she agreed hesitantly, going on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, rushing out of the room.

And then it was only them.

Dan cleared his throat, his cheeks beginning to redden again. “So, um, do you want to help clean up, or…”

Phil recognized the opportunity he was offering, and took it. “Yeah, sure. I’d say you’ll probably need a hand.”

Phil helped Dan fold chairs, watching him the whole time while Dan avoided his eyes.

“You look nice,” Dan commented, just being polite, but Phil snorted.

“Are you kidding? I’m wearing rags compared to you. Seriously, who wears a tie to a party in a church basement?”

Dan blushed even harder, glancing down at the black tie fastened neatly around his neck.

“Me, I guess,” he muttered, laughing awkwardly.

“Was that your girlfriend?” Phil blurted.

Dan looked at him then, eyes wide. “Who, Silvia?”

Phil nodded, and Dan laughed. Like, really laughed.

“No!” He exclaimed, shaking his head. “She’s my cousin!”

Now Phil laughed too, pushing his hair back until it sat in a quiff above his forehead.

“Oh Jesus,” he muttered. “Well, thank god.”

He expected Dan to just brush off his comment like he always did, change the subject, look away, something. He didn’t.

“Why’s that?” He asked softly, pressing his lips together and searching Phil’s face. “Why are you relieved?”

Phil shrugged, tossing a plastic cup at the trash and making it. “Because if you were with anyone else, I’d be upset.”

He glanced at Dan, smirking at the way his eyes had widened and his mouth had fallen open just slightly.

“W-Why?” Dan asked again, biting his lip and turning back to the plates he was stacking.

“Because I like you.” He shrugged, casual. “I wanna make you mine, and if people are interfering, that’s a problem, isn’t it baby boy?”

A small gasp escaped Dan’s mouth at the nickname, and Phil smirked.

“Silvia… Silvia said you…” he trailed off, chewing on his lip, his eyebrows furrowed. Phil took this opportunity to step closer.

“That I want to fuck you?” Phil asked, finishing the sentence, and Dan tensed up.

“Yeah…” he muttered, practically a whisper.

“Well, it’s not a lie.” Phil glanced at him, searching his face before turning back to the chair he was folding up. “I’ve been hitting on you for the last month, you didn’t notice?”

Dan shook his head, avoiding his gaze, and they were quiet for a moment.

“You ever kissed a boy?”

“What?!” Dan spluttered, his cheeks redder than Phil had thought possible. “N-No, of course not, I… I couldn’t.”

Phil turned to look at him, frowning, turning his whole body this time so he was facing him.

“Why not?”

Dan faced him too, at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing.

“I mean, I s-suppose I could but… I CAN’T. That… that’s…” he trailed off, and Phil stepped forward so he was only inches away. Dan froze, but didn’t move away.

He trailed a finger up Dan’s jaw slowly and Dan swallowed, shivering, watching its progress. “You never know if you like something until you try it, right?”

“Well I suppose, but…” Dan gasped as Phil grabbed his tie, wrapping it around his hand and pulling Dan closer.

“But?”

“But…” Dan looked like his mind was going fuzzy, glancing down at the tie that Phil was holding him by and back up at Phil’s eyes, and then his lips. “I’m not gay,” he practically squeaked, his voice small.

“You never know if you like something unless you try it,” Phil repeated, slowly touching Dan’s waist with the hand that wasn’t gripping his tie. Dan didn’t move an inch as Phil leaned over, pressing his lips against Dan’s.

Phil waited a second to make sure Dan wasn’t going to pull away before reaching up to touch Dan’s chin, really kissing him. He dragged his tongue along Dan’s bottom lip, asking for entrance, rather surprised when he actually opened his mouth.

He could feel Dan’s hands shaking as they moved up Phil’s chest, sliding over his shoulders and wrapping around his neck. Phil gripped his waist, pulling him as close as possible. With one hand he tangled his fingers in Dan’s hair, kissing him deeper. He tasted like awful punch and fruit gum, and Phil was sure he tasted like cigarettes, but Dan didn’t seem to mind.

Phil backed him against the wall, kissing him hotly and letting his hands roam Dan’s body. He moved his mouth to Dan’s jaw, kissing down to his neck and nipping at the pale skin. Dan whimpered, moaning softly and tangling his fingers in Phil’s hair.

“Ah-” Dan gasped, letting his head fall back against the wall. “Phil…”

Phil pulled back, pressing his forehead against Dan’s and breathing heavily.

“Is there somewhere we could go?” Phil breathed, and he promised himself if Dan said no, or didn’t get the hint, he would give up. Dan’s brown eyes blinked at him.

“Just one…”

They ended up in the boy’s bathroom, Phil roughly shoving him against the wall and kissing him possessively. Dan whined into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Phil’s neck and clinging to him desperately.

Phil grabbed Dan’s thigh, hooking his leg around his waist and Dan took the hint, hopping up and wrapping his legs around Phil’s waist. Phil went back to his neck, trailing sloppy kisses down to his collarbone.

He unbuttoned Dan’s shirt, loosening and removing his tie before kissing him again. He let Dan push off his leather jacket and tug his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

Phil’s hands explored Dan’s chest, pinching one of his nipples, and Dan gasped.

“Phil…” he moaned, an indirect beg for more. Phil palmed at his bulge, feeling Dan grind against his hand desperately.

Phil picked him up, spinning them around and setting him down on the counter, tugging at the button of Dan’s black jeans. Once he got them off he flipped Dan over after pressing a kiss to his jaw, bending him over the counter.

“I’m guessing you’ve never done this with a guy before,” Phil muttered, smoothing his hand over the curve of Dan’s ass and squeezing roughly. Dan jumped.

“N-No…”

Phil kissed the nape of his neck, pressing himself against Dan’s body. “Are you sure you want to?”

Dan let out an almost desperate gasp, his voice breaking. “Yes, yesyesyes, god just please… p-please fuck me, Phil, want you.”

Phil grunted, slapping Dan’s thigh sharply. “Jesus, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

Phil took no time removing his jeans, tugging down Dan’s boxers as well, grinding his still clothed bulge against Dan’s ass. Dan moaned, reaching back and grabbing Phil’s hips, pulling him closer.

Phil’s boxers were off in a second as well, skin rubbing against skin. Dan pushed his ass back; he was a needy bottom and Phil fucking loved it.

Phil held two fingers to Dan’s mouth, motioning for him to open. Dan sucked on the fingers obediently, slicking them up with spit.

“This might hurt a little,” Phil muttered, rubbing Dan’s entrance with one finger. “Tell me to stop if you need to, alright?”

“Mhm,” Dan agreed, pushing his ass back again. Phil slapped it and Dan yelped, pulling forward again.

“Don’t be a needy bitch, Dan,” Phil growled, pushing the first finger into Dan slowly. Dan moaned.

“S-Sorry, sir-” he gasped.

Phil took his time stretching him; considering it was his first time he didn’t want it to hurt too bad. Dan flinched away at first but soon he was whining and grinding back on Phil’s digits. Phil moaned just at the sight, he never thought he’d have him like this.

Finally he pulled out, holding his hand up to Dan’s face again and instructing him to spit. Dan did as he said, and Phil slicked himself up with that as well as precum that was already forming on the head of his swollen cock.

“Ready?” He breathed, pressing his whole body against Dan’s and leaning over him to kiss his neck. Dan whined.

“Yes, yes sir, please, I’m ready, I need you.”

Phil hummed in approval; he loved how quickly Dan had changed from a good little church boy to a desperate slut with just a little kissing.

Phil pushed in slowly, taking his time in edging into Dan, which took an incredible amount of self control on his part. Finally he bottomed out, kneading Dan’s ass in his hands. Dan was a mess beneath him, whining and whimpering at every movement, conflicted between pushing back and pulling away.

Phil reached up, tangling his fingers in Dan’s hair, giving it a soft tug and driving a whimper out of Dan’s pretty mouth.

He began to thrust, pulling almost all the way out and pushing back in slowly, Dan gasping every time he did so. Phil snapped his hips roughly without warning, thrusting hard, and Dan cried out.

“Fuck!” He practically shrieked, a loud feminine moan falling from his mouth.

“You’re a loud little slut, aren’t you?” Phil panted, groaning as he thrust roughly again. Dan let out a high pitched whine.

“Fuckfuckfuck p-please, fuck, harder…”

Phil obliged, driving his cock deeper into the whimpering boy, skin slapping on skin echoing through the room. Phil tugged on Dan’s hair again, watching his face through the mirror, and fuck he could cum just from that.

Dan’s lips were swollen, his cheeks red and flushed, his hair messy and his eyes glazed over with need. Phil groaned, snapping his hips.

Phil knew he had hit Dan’s prostate when he screamed, a loud “FUCK, PHIL” bouncing off the walls. Phil smirked, angling his thrusts to hit that spot.

“This is a sin, you know,” Phil growled, reaching up to cover Dan’s mouth with his hand as he fucked into him harder. “Such a filthy fucking sinner for me, princess, ruined on my cock.”

Dan’s desperate muffled moans against his hand were pushing him to the edge, that and his tight heat encasing Phil’s cock. Phil smirked.

“Such a pretty fucking sinner too, isn’t that right? All for me. Your tight ass is all mine, yeah?”

Dan didn’t answer, continuous moaning falling from his mouth, muffled by Phil’s hand. He just nodded frantically, his moans sounding close to sobs.

Dan came after a few more thrusts all over his stomach, white streaking the counter under him and he whimpered, now sensitive to Phil’s cock pounding into his prostate every thrust.

Phil pulled out, quickly tugging Dan to his knees in front of him, guiding his cock to his lips. Dan took it obediently, lowering himself on Phil’s length. Phil groaned, tangling his fingers in Dan’s hair and fucking his throat as gently as he could. Dan gagged, digging his fingernails into Phil’s hips, and that was all it took. Phil came down his throat, keeping his cock still until he was sure Dan had swallowed all of it.

He helped Dan to his feet, holding him steady because it was clear he was close to falling over.

Dan just stared at him, stunned, watching as Phil casually got dressed. After he was clothed he cleaned Dan’s stomach and the counter with a paper towel, tossing it in the trash.

He grinned, kissing Dan’s cheek and backing towards the door, winking.

“See you next Sunday, Danny.”

to any closeted trans guys following me and had to wear dresses today because its the “acceptable Easter clothing,” i am sorry and i hope your dysphoria wasnt too awful and i hope you have a good day despite any misgendering or dysphoria and i love you all

you’re no less of a guy because you had to wear a dress, I promise

concept: Percival Graves in an Undercover Boss-style skit. 

He spends a day in disguise amongst his lower-tier co-workers and expects to hear a lot of whinging about what a cruel task master he is (which would have been more than just a little satisfying). Instead, he’s inundated with surreptitious comments about his appearance. Most of them are harmless flattery, but others are so risqué as to leave him hanging his head in a desperate attempt to conceal the fact that his face is burning with shame. 

he would have preferred the complaints, honestly 

“Forever Yours” - Vaughnall

Connall slowly buttoned up his tunic, pulling at the collar and the cuffs of the sleeves. He stopped, his hand braced on his door, his nostrils flaring. Pressing his forehead against the door, Connall dug a dent into his lip that began to bleed. 

He should have been back by now. Fenrys should have been back. 

He wouldn’t leave. 

He wouldn’t run. 

He would leave him behind. 

Connall took a shaky breath and he turned the knob to his door, a curl falling in his face. He hadn’t noticed the out of place, but familiar scent in his room until he had closed the door, turning around again. 

“You can’t be here” Was the first thing out of his mouth and the male just watched him. Connall realized he was playing with the ties at his neck, and he dropped his hands, clenching his fists. “Get out” 

“Most we always go through this banter, C?” Vaughan asked, leaning back on Connall’s bed gently. His dark fingers were splayed out on the crisp white sheets. Connall could tell he was trying his best not to clench the fabric. 

“Don’t call me that” He kept a wide space between him and his cadre member, arcing into the bathroom. Connall slowly sat down on the stool, his arms hanging between his knees, pressing his brow onto his palms. “Get on with it, you old bird” 

Vaughan chuckled. A deep, rich, even slightly raspy sound. Connall’s shoulders slumped forward even more and he sensed Vaughan moving. Immediately, he tried to scramble back, but when he looked up, Vaughan’s hands were held in front of him. 

“I know you don’t want to be touched. And I would never touch you, Connall, and you know that” Vaughan gave him a half smile, one of those stupidly chipped teeth showing. Connall nodded and he tugged his knees into his chest. 

“When I first came I wanted so badly to mean something” Connall droned, answering Vaughan’s unasked question, fulfilling his untold demand. Connall didn’t bother to look up, only stared at his hands. 

“We’ve been through this story. You felt destined to forever be in Fenrys’ shadows, but Maeve provided a way to escape that darkness. What she didn’t tell you was you would become a victim to a much darker darkness” Connall cringed at the steady truth in Vaughan’s words.

“Dig deeper, Connall” The way Vaughan said his name ruined Connall in a thousand and one different ways and it would take him all night to put himself back together. But it ruined him in the good way. He looked back at Vaughan, who was chewing on his lip, his eyebrows raised. 

“There’s nothing else. I’m an open book” Connall said, swallowing. Vaughan’s eyes, the color of burned copper, fluttered down to his hands, watching them clench and unclench. He shook his head, clasping his fingers on his knees. 

“If you say so, C” Vaughan gestured, changing the subject with that small gesture, and Connall sighed. His fingers trembled as he shrugged off his shirt, his chest heaving up and down, his heart fluttering in his chest. Vaughan tilted his head to the side, looking up at the ceiling. His hand was clasped over his eyes, a slight smile playing at his lips. That smile…

“Anything out of color?” Vaughan asked cautiously. His normally controlled, soothing, slightly clipped voice had taken on the nervous undertone it always did when addressing the abuse Connall suffered. 

He looked down at his chest and shook his head. Connall cleared his throat and answered, his voice seeming soft, out of place, weak. He was not weak. Vaughan swallowed, licking his lips. “You should wash up. I’d suggest warm water, but I know you’ll use cold…” He trailed off, but Connall didn’t miss anything when it came to him. 

That’s what made everything so much harder. 

“You don’t have to do this every time” Connall snapped abruptly. The other male’s jaw tensed and he stood up, walking towards Connall. His hand still pressed over his eyes, he stood in front of him. Connall had this strange feeling Vaughan saw him better than any person with both their eyes open. 

“I will always do this, C, and I am past the point of explaining to you why I will do this. I know you’re bruised right there,” Vaughan pointed and Connall winced, confirming the male’s words. “And I know you’re bleeding here” Vaughan put his hand out, parallel to Connall’s heart. If Connall would just step forward, Vaughan’s hand would be pressing against his thumping, racing heart. But he didn’t. 

“And Fenrys will press hard against this wound, try to soak up the blood, attempt to stop the bleeding. And Maeve will continue to stab you and you will let her. But I know, I know you want a shield. You have to want it. And when you do I will be your shield”

“Why?” Connall whispered. He wanted to reach forward, wanted to pull Vaughan’s hand from over his eyes, wanted to run his hands through his hair, let his fingers get impossibly tangled. He wanted Vaughan to run. Fly - fly far away. Instead of coming back to him; again and again and again.

“Because you’re it for me. I’ve accepted that” Connall’s heart froze in his chest, his stomach clenching. His fingers curled into his palms, his nails digging into the soft skin. Vaughan’s nostrils flared and Connall knew it was a physical strain for Vaughan not to reach out and grab Connall, to make him stop hurting himself. “You’re the one; I’m yours. You may never be mine, but I’ll spend every waking, breathing moment, making it very obvious whose I am” 

“Stop” Connall whispered. 

“I am wholly yours. I know it. I know that my soul would sooner collapse than be without yours and I’d let it. But you’re not ready and you may never be ready. It could be centuries from now, and we’d still be here, and I’d still be yours. That’s how sure I am. I’d rather die tomorrow, knowing, trusting, and loving that I’m yours, than live a thousand years, ignoring this fact and moving on” 

Connall stared at Vaughan. He looked ridiculous. His hand resting over his eyes, his other hand thumping on his leg. He was restless. Connall was standing there, letting him pour out his heart, and Vaughan was staying still. Because he knew that’s what Connall needed. 

If Connall was normal, he would have shoved away Vaughan’s hand, and held him. Kissed him, maybe. Given him a physical touch, an emotional caress. Given him something. But he did nothing. Nothing

Deep down he knew Vaughan didn’t mind, but he minded. 

“Get out” Connall’s voice shook. Blood dripped onto the floor from the crescent moon cuts in his palms. Connall’s breathing had sped up, his shoulders moving up and down. Vaughan’s face fell, but he nodded. 

“Don’t come back, V” Connall froze and continued, “Vaughan, don’t you dare come back” 

“We both know I will”

“You’re hurting me” Connall whispered. 

“Then it is very clear we are not mates,” Vaughan forced a laugh from between his lips. “Because you’re hurting me too, C. But I wouldn’t have it any other way” 

Connall should beg him to stay. Beg him to take care of the bruises, to wash him of Maeve’s scent and touch. Beg him to run his fingers through his hair. Beg - Ask, never beg - Vaughan, and Vaughan only, to allow him to rest his head on his lap, to be lost in another touch, another scent. A scent he couldn’t name, but didn’t care, because he knew that’s what home was supposed to smell like. 

“I’m sorry,” Connall whispered instead. This was all his fault. He couldn’t dig deeper because it hurt. He couldn’t admit the truth, not to Vaughan. He couldn’t bear this weight, handle what might happen. 

“I’m not” Vaughan’s shoulders sagged. In another life Connall would walk forward and grip Vaughan’s shoulders, straightening him. He would hold his face and Vaughan would hold his, and their foreheads would touch. Then their noses, maybe even their lips. And from there, everything would be okay. 

But in their world it was simply not possible. 

Vaughan turned away and Connall let him walk to the door. He watched as Vaughan braced his palm against the door, the same way he had done before he walked in, then pulled it open. “When you were gone you took a part of me with you” Connall whispered. 

It was the most truthful thing he had ever told him. 

Vaughan must have sensed that, known that, deep down. 

Vaughan turned around and their eyes met. Burned copper and onyx. Vaughan’s eyes didn’t once dip to his bare chest; it didn’t even look like the urge was there. Though it was not because of the lack of physical attraction. 

“When-” Connall choked on his words, struggling. He clenched his fists again, grasping at the air. He shook his head, the words failing him. Vaughan was so, so good with words. But they always seemed to fail him when it mattered most. 

“Good bye, little wolf,” Vaughan whispered. Connall watched helplessly as the door closed between them. He slowly lowered himself down to the ground, pulling his knees into his chest. He pressed his cheek against the wall, breathing shakily. 

“Good bye, old bird” 


My very first Vaughnall piece. More to come. 

Hate

Harry took Y/N shopping, I bet she’s with him for the money. 

Y/N is back at it again stealing his money.

Get a job Y/N.

Y/N tossed her phone on the counter, groaning and laying her head on the counter as well. Harry sighs, grabbing her phone and reading through the tweets. 

Eight months. They had been dating for eight months and everyone kept claiming she was with Harry for his money, which was ridiculous her parents made just about the same, if not, more than Harry. Y/N came from a wealthy family, both her parents neurosurgeons and she was to follow in their footsteps, but of course no one cared about that. 

“Honey,” Harry said, locking her phone and setting it aside, “just ignore them, please.”

He rubs her back as she shakes her head. But Harry knew the real Y/N, the one that loved eating Chinese food at two am, the one who truly believed everything sounded better in a car wash, the one who loved to help others. 

Harry had met Y/N in Kenya when he was doing volunteer work, it was originally for PR, but he ended up leaving with her. He remembered how much Y/N hated him at first, she was upset that he was only there to get more promotion so people could see he was a nice man, and she had gone because she loved it. Every year she was there, helping the kids, building homes, helping them learn, helping them heal. He remembered that he worked harder to get on her good side than he probably did volunteering. 

“I’m obviously not with you for the money!” She cried.

“I know that, and my family knows that,” Harry assured her, “and that’s all that matters.”

She sits up, a frown on her lips. Harry leans down, kissing her gently, “I love you,” Harry says. 


“Oh my god,” Y/N groans, digging into her purse, “I forgot my wallet.”

“‘s alright love, I got it,” Harry smiled, handing the cashier his card.

“No-we can come back later-it’s not a big deal,” y/n shakes her head, zipping her bag, but the cashier had already swiped his card. 

The girl behind the counter rolled her eyes, handing Harry the slip and a pen for him to sign. When Y/N turns she sees the camera’s on them, and just like she expected it had gone viral. 

Everyone proceeded to comment on how Harry took her out shopping and paid for everything, how she seemed ungrateful. She grabbed the bag, Harry’s hand and stormed out of the store. 


“So Harry,” Nick smiled into the microphone, “you asked to come on here, you have a message to give out?”

Harry nods, “my girlfriend, Y/N, is being sent a lot of nasty messages, and I feel the need to address it. Y/N’s name is Y/N, Y/L/N, she’s daughter of Linda and Mark Y/L/N,” he says, “one of the wealthiest people in the U.S. I can assure everyone that Y/N isn’t using me for money, sometimes she forgets her wallet, sometimes I forget mine. We are humans, we slip up. But I do not enjoy people attacking her, we should all be spreading love, we should all be supporting each other. I just want people to step back and realize she’s a person too, she has feelings, don’t waste your energy attacking her, support her, support your friends, family, but that energy into something good, please.”


“That was very sweet of you,” Y/N sets down her apron, smiling as Harry walked in the kitchen. 

“‘s nothing,” Harry shrugs. 

But she shakes her head, a smile on her face, she wraps her arms around the taller man, “no, it’s amazing,” Y/N shakes her head, pressing her forehead against his. 

“I was just stating the truth,” Harry shrugged. 

“I love you,” Y/N kisses him, “with or without your money.”

Harry chuckled, “I love you too,” he says, “now I’m hungry, can we eat.”


This sounded better in my head but I’m sick and tired and this feel like it’s good but I guess we will figure it out when I wake up again and I’m not sick and I read it lol

chaoticgamer8693  asked:

So yeah if I get Leeway and you allow me then I could make a game for you. Granted I'm still learning the engine and it would take a long time. But yeah that would be fun, and a bitch to model but fun! Have you ever considered trying to make Glitchtale into a game yourself? Hiring a group of developers with Patreon money if you get enough of it or learning engines yourself? Hell I think most people would pay good money for that. I'm not expecting a reply. Just wanted to leave a comment.

I don’t have enough money to waste on myself (or my projects) at the moment. I’m using it all for my house and family

Unleashed Comments

I know there are a lot of people that were upset that another WOC was killed, but the reality is, because the writers are trying to add diversity to their cast, they seem to make the Colored Male a lead who is married, so when they need to wrench our hearts out, the only person to get rid of is his strong, independent wife, who happens to be a WOC.  That is why I’m OK with who they killed, cried because they did and will be watching Season 9 to see what Gemmill has in store for Sam.

Now for my comments:

  • That proposal was perfect.  We knew it was coming, but it was still perfect.  And the OK to Nell, that was the icing.
  • Eric’s little dance when he got to have a drink with Hetty
  • Nell in the ambulance with Callen and joining the team.
  • Deeks as the Jesus Freak.
  • Nell driving with Deeks.
  • The whole bus scene
  • Sam taking time off to spend with his kids.
  • Callen being there for Sam and Sam ditching him.
  • Sabatino being the one he calls.
  • All the weapons Sam keeps at his house
  • Pretty much all of it.  I might be the only one, but it delivered what I was expecting.  I have no complaints and Gemmill remembered he wrote the Sunshine and Gunpowder line and used it.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten alot of what I want to say, but I’m going to go read the rest of the comments now.

multishipper problems: the final frontier

Voltron multishippers are so pure, so lovely. You took my trash post and its thrilling sequel and the unanimous response was that all of the ships were valid and that all of the characters could love each other. You restored my faith in the fandom, thank you

USMNT captain denounces Trump and the Muslim ban

The Arrangement: Chapter Fifteen

Author’s Note: THE FIRST KISS IS FINALLY HERE! Took me 15 chapters to build up to it lol so I hope I did it justice! I also hope you enjoy the chapter, feedback is always appreciated :)

Masterlist

Originally posted by augustren

“Did we just have marriage counselling with the Supreme Leader?” You said when you entered your quarters.

Kylo removed his helmet, “It would seem so, Princess.”

“If I had known he would start asking those questions, I wouldn’t have—”

“Wouldn’t have told him, ‘we haven’t even kissed’?” Kylo asked, slightly amused as he imitated you.

You groaned, burying your face into your hands to avoid Kylo’s gaze, “I can’t believe I said that.”

“Yes, well you’re lucky he has a vested interest in you or you would have been dead before you could utter the word, ‘consummated’.”

“Ugh, how awful,” you whined as you re-lived the embarrassment over in your mind.

“At least I know what you’re thinking now.”

“What?” Your voice was muffled as you spoke into your hands.

“The only downside to teaching you to control your thoughts is that… well, that I can’t hear them anymore,” he hummed.

“You know that could be a new interrogation tactic. Just put them in front of Snoke for a few minutes and they’ll share everything.”

You heard Kylo’s faint laughter as he brought his hands to yours, gently prying them away from your face to meet your gaze, “Are you unhappy with your life here, Princess?” He asked quietly.

Slowly you shook your head, “No—No, of course not. What makes you ask that?”

“Snoke said that it’s my duty to make sure you’re content. Clearly he doesn’t think I’m doing a very good job of that.”

You smiled slightly, “Well I’m happy with the progress I’m making—I have you to thank for that, Commander.”

Kylo ignored your cheerful tone, “And yet you are still unhappy.”

“No. I’m not,” you said it firmly this time.

“You can hide your thoughts from me Y/N, but not your emotions. You’re discontent, I can feel it.”

It was then when you realised that Kylo’s hands were still over yours. He seemed to become aware of it in that moment too.

“Say something,” Kylo instructed. His voice barely above a whisper now.

You sighed, “Why… um, why… haven’t you kissed me yet?”

So that was the source of your unhappiness, Kylo thought. “Why, do you want me to?”

“I asked you a question first.”

Kylo frowned slightly, “Because I’m…” he let out a sigh, “I’m afraid, Princess.” It was as if it pained him to even admit it.

“Of what?”

“Of you… I mean, of losing you, of—of caring too much for you, even loving you.”

“It’s a kiss, Kylo. You’re not going to go falling in love with me because of one kiss.” You half-laughed as you recited the same words he had recently said to you.

But Kylo wasn’t laughing. His expression was firm, but it was as if his eyes glistened with a confusing mixture of sadness and desire.

“It’s been a long time since I have cared for anyone as much as I care for you, Y/N. ” he said finally.

You stayed silent. Hesitantly, you reached out your hand to brush his cheek. You didn’t know what was compelling you to do it, but as soon as you did, Kylo was leaning in to your touch.

You inched closer to him and he responded by doing the same. Your heart racing as your eyes glanced over his plump lips.

You noticed Kylo doing the same to you and when he met your gaze again, his eyes seemed to be asking for your permission to continue. You have a quick nod as Kylo’s lips hovered ever so slightly above yours. Even now, with the moment so close, he was cautious.

“Kylo…” your voice came out as whisper, sounding almost desperate.

Kylo responded immediately as he pressed his lips against yours. You let out an involuntary gasp at how well his lips seemed to meld with your own. He softly guided your mouth against his own and it felt right. It felt perfect.

But before you could deepen the kiss, Kylo parted from you. Your fingers moved up to trace the outline of your lips, eager to retrace the movements of Kylo’s lips working with yours.

“I– I shouldn’t have done that, forgive me, Y/N.”

You frowned, “Kylo, we are bound by the Force, and by this marriage… I know you won’t hurt me,” you said when you had gathered your thoughts. You knew this was playing on Kylo’s mind.

“How do you know that?”

“I just… do,” you said quietly, “I—I trust you.”

“I don’t even trust myself,” he huffed, “I’ve betrayed the people I care about before. Do you know that?”

You were at a loss for what to say. “Kylo—” you reached out to him.

“I’ve hurt the people I care about—even… even killed them, Y/N,” Kylo’s voice was breaking now as he stepped away from you. The sphere of intimacy quickly diminishing. “Y-you shouldn’t trust me.”

“But I do,” you pressed, moving towards him as he took another step back, “Who you were, it’s not who you are now. You’ve changed. I’ve seen it. I can feel it, Kylo. You truly care about me, not just for the sake of this damn political alliance!”

“You are too good for this, Y/N, too pure, too innocent.”

“What are you talking about, Kylo?!” You snapped. The tension had been building since you entered your quarters.

“Did you not hear what I said?! I have hurt the people I care about, I’ve—”

“I don’t want to hear about that!” You stopped him as you inched closer, and this time he didn’t step away from you, “Kylo, you are… stubborn, yes. You get agitated easily… But you are also kind— Don’t you dare deny it,” you stopped him as his mouth opened to protest.

“You didn’t have to take me to see my family, you didn’t have to keep me warm that night on Ilum… you don’t even have to talk to me half as much as you do!” It was like you were pleading with him to see himself as you saw him, “You have shown me more kindness than I ever thought you were capable of. Telling me about what you’ve done in the past… it means nothing when I have proof that you have goodness in your heart, Kylo.”

Just as he had on previous occasions, Kylo felt the need to tell you everything about his past. But your expression was one of compassion… As if you had already forgiven him without first hearing what he was guilty of.

“I just wish you would have known me as the man I once was. Before all of this. That was a man you could have placed all your trust in to. A man you could have loved, and who would love you back unconditionally. Without a care in the Galaxy.”

You were puzzled slightly by his comment, but you confidently took your hand in his once more, “I know you now. I care for you now. In time, perhaps you will tell me more about your past. But not now. Not like this.”

Kylo nodded slowly, his eyes firmly meeting your own, "I worry that your trust in me may be misguided. As your mentor, certainly not. But as your husband…”

“My trust in you as my husband is entirely different. In our marriage, we are equals, remember? You are free to be vulnerable, to be afraid, even to be happy. As am I. Trust will come from our ability to confide in one another.”

Kylo was smiling slightly, “I want you to be happy, Y/N, I truly do. If that means making this marriage work, I will endeavour to do my best. For you.”

“Now that was spoken like a true husband,” you teased.

Kylo chuckled at that as be brought his lips up to brush the top of your hair. You froze in initial surprise before relaxing at his touch. This felt like the beginning of something wonderful, you were certain.

“Don’t think that this changes anything in the training room, Y/N.” You were half expecting such a comment.

“Oh, of course not. It just means I can kiss you after I send you plummeting to the ground,” you smirked.

“Care to prove it?” Kylo asked as he walked towards the blast door.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“To think,” Kylo started as the blast doors opened, “All we needed was marriage advice from a hologram.”


Tag List (Send me a message if you want to be included!)

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archiveofourown.org
Bloomtale - Chapter 11 - Kaitogirl - Undertale (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapter 11 is up!!! This might be the end of the Ruins’ arc. Or maybe not…


For those who can’t access AO3 or just don’t want to do it, the chapter is pasted under this sexy cut!!!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Have you got any Malfoy Family (Lucius, Narcissa, Draco) headcanons, i'm curious (If you don't mind my asking of course?)

Their marriage was quasi-arranged.  If Narcissa had vehemently objected, her parents would have dropped it, but she would have paid a price for that, and after Andromeda’s misalliance she knew better.

They adore each other, however, and did from almost first sight.  

Lucius HATES her parents.  

She had a hard time getting pregnant, and had several miscarriages before Draco.  Both of them regard Draco as a near miracle.  They didn’t try again afterward for fear Narcissa wouldn’t survive the pregnancy.

Draco is spoiled absolutely rotten.   He’s treated like a little prince, and has everything a child could want and then some.  

They had trouble keeping nannies.  They could have used a Mary Poppins but never got one.  

Draco’s birthday parties were the sort that people laugh about on social media.  Ponies, elaborate, obnoxious themes, gift bags that cost more to fill than normal people make in a week.  Draco honestly thought this was normal for a long time because he didn’t know anyone who didn’t live this way.  

Lucius is prone to tirades about liberal politics over dinner and Draco absorbed his father’s hatred of Dumbledore, the liberal Ministry, Muggle-lovers, and everything in between with wide eyes.  Narcissa just sniffs and makes comments like, “What would you expect from people like the Weasleys?” whenever Lucius complains.  Her contempt isn’t feigned.  She regards them as despicable, worse, really, than half-bloods because they had the option to be what she regards as better and threw it away to be poor.  She has opinions about people who have more children than they can afford - and her idea of what afford means is a trifle outrageous - and no shame in expressing them.  Draco grows up with the ingrained belief that poverty is the result of character flaws. Only bad, weak people are poor.

He wants more friends, but has no idea how offensive some of the things that come out of his mouth are.  He really wants to be friends with Harry Potter and that rejection stings enough to give him a grudge he nurses for years.

His parents listen to all his ranting about school and Potter with patient ears. Narcissa’s parents were of the ‘children should be seen and not heard’ mindset and she’s determined to never make her child feel like his opinions are unimportant or what he says is uninteresting.

Though she does sort of wish he’d shut up about Potter.  So does Lucius. 

2

Temple & Hands

11

“I just can’t grant you the time off over Christmas.” My manager sighed, like he felt badly about it.

And I knew full well the bastard did not feel bad about it. How could he? It was his fucking decision whether I got the holidays or not. How could he possibly feel badly about it when it was his decision to say no?
My god. I know it’s a fucking cliché, but I hated that man.

“Well, yes you can.” I pointed out. “I haven’t used my holidays yet, and I’ve earnt them. I’ve literally worked for those holidays, and I can take them when I want. All you need is two weeks’ notice, and I’ve given you a month, so you can absolutely grant me the holidays.”

Keep reading

I can’t seem to @ mention you, Larenoz, and that post is getting way too long, but I wanted to say yeah, for me specifically, I’d rather get constructive criticism than a kudos. I’d rather get better, and I have literally always been that way, even when I was a young teen writing terribly written young teen things. Most people aren’t like this, they don’t like concrit, and I get that, and for them, sure, leave a kudos. They’re not professional writers (and neither am I) and concrit isn’t usually welcome because fanfic is about having fun in a community. It’s about feeling good and sharing good things with others that like the same thing you like- your same hobby, if you will. So for them, sure, whatever, leave a kudos, idc- if that’s what they want, that is what they want and good job giving it to them.

But the nonny asked me, specifically, how /I/ felt about it, and I said that /I/ personally and specifically feel a kudos is worthless. I wish the system had never been invented. And I feel like it sucks to have to be dependent on that type of system to count as a stand-alone form of feedback. I cannot express to you how many times I have heard/seen “I don’t know why this story doesn’t have more kudos because it’s really good!” and that just hits that soft spot again, to have reaffirmed that folks are judging fics by kudos instead of content. So yeah, if you’re talking about me specifically, yes. Please. I want comments. I like concrit- provided it actually IS concrit, something specific I can actually use to improve as opposed to vague nonsense. I’ve made some of the best friends of my entire life with folks who have helped me to improve my writing.

Speaking only for myself, I personally don’t write for fandom- I write stories so I can read them, and I write stories for my close friends so they can read them. I choose to share them with the rest of fandom in the hopes that someone else may find enjoyment from them. The people who make doing this latter part, sharing with fandom, worth it are NOT (again, for me) the people who click kudos and move on. The people who make sharing with fandom worth it are the people who take the time to say ‘hey, you didn’t have to share this with anyone, but you did and I enjoyed it, so thanks.’ I really do not see how hoping for or preferring that kind of response is wrong or bad.

Desiring praise or encouragement or hell, just a reaction to something I have created is not wrong. It is not bad. It is not selfish. It is human. I am human, and I am a human in a community of other humans, asking those other humans to consider being kind to each other in a more fulfilling capacity than usual, and the echo coming back to me is “but I just want to be given nice things to read without having to give any effort to be nice back to the community.” And, news flash, that’s not how a good, healthy community works.

Like, I’m not sorry if people who only leave kudos and bolt are feeling called out right now, because in my opinion, you’re consuming work someone did and chose to share with you, and returning what amounts to almost nothing in exchange. Which, you know, fine, whatever, if you personally feel that clicking 1 button is the appropriate feedback for whatever story you’ve just read or wrote, that’s your prerogative, you do you. Maybe you’re doing it because you have nothing nice to say, and ok. Maybe others are doing it because they don’t know what else to say. Maybe they feel that’s all it deserved. Maybe they do it out of habit when they finish a fic to tell which ones they’ve read already. I don’t know. And neither does anyone else, because people aren’t in the habit of giving any additional feedback.

So, you know, I guess just don’t come crying to me when you can’t find any good fic because other authors you like stop sharing their work because they don’t feel it’s worth the effort if no one is enjoying their work. Take a moment to imagine fandom without fic, and tell me it’s not worth saying “thanks for sharing” in a comment to encourage folks to continue to do so. Because practice makes perfect, and the more people write the better they will get at it, and eventually those authors that maybe didn’t write something you liked the first time will be good enough later to write something you love. Or maybe something someone else loves. 

I can already tell you that I’ve stopped sharing a lot of my writing with fandom and only show it to my friends instead because if fandom readers don’t care if it’s shared with them or not, why should I?

Sigh. I’m tired.

I just saw JM’s interview, fully expecting his comments about Carol and Daryl to come across as 110% joking so I could come back here and tell my fellow Carylers to calm down… But I can’t. He might have been joking ever so slightly about the Rosita thing, but I didn’t get that impression when he was talking about Caryl.

And, I don’t want to bring negativity – Lord knows we have been dealing witl h a lot lately. But I just want to say (and I think I am speaking for most, if not all, Carylers when I say this): WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK. 

So JM ships Eugene and Carol but Daryl, who is clearly older than Eugene, is more of a “son” to Carol? How does that make any fucking sense?? 

So Eugene wants to sleep with his “sister figure” Rosita because she’s hot but Daryl couldn’t possibly want to do the same because… Why? Carol has gray hair???

Guys, I am 32 going on 33 in 2 months. Turning 30 was not easy for me. Stuff like this makes me sad because I know what I get to look forward to in the future.

If I were MMB, I would tell TPTB to kill me off so my ugly, old ass would stop weighing down all the hot Daryl ships that are ready to take off. 

Ugh. I’m so done with this fandom. 

For what it is worth, I still believe that Caryl is endgame. And I live for that day.

But I can’t even believe the amount of shit she gets from her own CAST MATES because she isn’t Rosita or Maggie. Fucking A, I am TIRED.  

Charred (Part Three)

EXO FanFiction: Fantasy AU 
Main pairing: Reader x Chanyeol
You get sucked into a mysterious world, and begin to discover things you couldn’t have imagined. But why you? And who is the stranger you are becoming drawn to?

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Who is she?!

I told you, Yeol, she is a Keeper. You didn’t have to come all this way to find out that.

But how?!

That old traitor, I found her when I searched for him. She’s his daughter.

But that’s not possible, that’s never been possible.

Keep reading

ihni  asked:

Isn't it one of the universal truths in life, that EVERY writer wants comments? I thought everyone knew that.

Like, that was my impression but apparently?? not????

When I answered that first question (which I was happy to get and discuss!! so thank you nonny for asking in the first place!! I love you!!), I immediately got a couple responses agreeing and then a couple responses from other writers that were basically saying they were used to kudos only and it was spoiled to want or ask for more than that, and how I shouldn’t expect more than that, why do writers deserve comments just for writing, maybe you should write for yourself instead and I’m?? blown?? away?? like?? you deserve better?? I just want a better community??? I want us to be nicer to each other more often because the world is a shitty place and fanfiction is a thing we all love?? and I want it to keep being written??? and the best way to make an author happy?? is commenting??? Why are you so upset/angry that I want this??

holy shit, you know?