#if i usually tag you in things please assume that you're tagged for this too!!

[matchalovertrait]

24 screenshots of 2024! ✮⋆˙

Thank you for the tag @itmeansiris, @cakepoppresent, @euphiesims, @rosienthe, @simscici, @smulie, @living-undead, and @elderwisp!! 💗

January

Infant Dulce!!!! Aw how precious 😭 I love her little pigtails and look in her eyes. She looks a lot like her dad here lol.

One of Generation One's requirements in the Joy of Life Challenge is to "Throw the best parties for your child(ren), full of yummy cakes and treats!" and this was the very first of many cute parties :) Ángel's 5th birthday. I was still very new to the Sims 4 and I felt pretty proud of myself.

February

MY FOUR BABIES 😭😭😭😭 I love them with all my heart.

This took soooooo much work as a beginner omg!! I thought it was just okay but it got a lot of love :o

Ángel, Esperanza, Dulce, Guillermo, and Matthew as kids! I had no clue what the future held for them lol. Look at all of them appearing so cute and innocent 😆

March

An ofrenda for in-game Día de Los Muertos. It turned out pretty decent. That's a picture of Noemí's mom, Ynez.

Again, I don't know what possessed me to do a Diced Junior arc 😂 Besides the lighting and ugly text, I'm really proud of it. So no, I will never stop mentioning it.

April

A lil too much text 😅 but I liked showing the personalities of Dulce's cousins more here. Fun fact: It may not seem like it but Guillermo has the genius trait. A handful of his lines in this legacy insinuates that lol.

This was right after Dulce posted the Alto exposé video. I like how I showed a few different opinions from the comment section of her video. Also, it's a little ironic that she would meet a somewhat familiar fate due to Caruso's video about her 😅 hehehe.

May

My free-spirited Dulce 💓 maybe one of her future kids can become a basketball star, hmm.

Ynez and Infant Noemí <3 Translation: It’s just the two of us, but that doesn’t matter. I’m going to put in A LOT of effort to give you a good life. Hopefully, you grow up to be a person who is very kind, strong, and noble. And she did grow up to be like that :)

June

I'm not religious but Noemí practices catholicism. That's the main religion in Mexico, where she is from! Ngl I think I have religious trauma, but I can recognize when people have good intentions when they pray over you. I kinda like it, shows they care. ...Not in the Southern way when people say "Bless your heart" when they don't mean it like that. Context matters 😂

Bruh, Dulce 💀 Also, I will admit that Caruso looks kind of cute here 😂 I see why some of you fell for him. But that was part of my elaborate plan 😈

July

Okay, the first Lizaxi Legacy post went pretty hard. I'm pleasantly surprised about that LOL! We have some good lines, interesting characters, and decent shots!

Part of Mimli and Smeagie's house :> you'll find cacti, aliens, and stars throughout the home.

August

I LOVE the post that this came from 😂 This save was a lot of fun, I need to revisit it.

My Pierrot clown!!!! One of my favorite posts of this year!! I'm so proud of it :> Her outfit, her makeup, the long sorta-side bangs, the balloons, the fog, her facial expression. Love it.

September

Uh oh, Erick met Caruso and he was NOT having it 😅 Erick is such a kind guy too.

The big move to Del Sol Valley!!! Remember when we thought she was moving to Scotland? 🤔 Anyway, Dulce looks so pretty here! I love the palm trees in the back.

October

I reallllyyyyyyyy like the colors of Dulce's office and how I decorated it :>

Dulce's disguise 😂 man I love turning the ideas in my head into reality. Even if it's all pixels.

LMAO this is so funny and unserious to me 😭😭 Why is bro showing off his body, tattoos, AND jawline in the office??? We're supposed to be having a serious convo here, hellllppppp

November

Okay, this is pretty cool. Now that I look at it, that definitely looks like a supervillain house. I also like the fonts that I used and how you can see that the party is about to begin.

Dulce showing off her knowledge from secret agent movies! She's so silly hehe

[caramelloss]

please like or reblog if you'd like to be tagged!

hey guys! me again, i have a lilia x reader fic done! or at least the first part. this will be sort of long, tons of smut included, eventually. its a non-magic au, based on a student/professor dynamic. for the run down; lilia calderu is your philosophical study teacher in college. you skip class for the first few weeks, not really interested in a class with a bunch of university freshman, because the class was taken by mostly them. when you finally do decide to show up, your professor calls you out in front of the class, and tells you to stay after. she tells you she wants to see you in the class, and you notice some things about her that intrigue you. she assumes you're a stupid young adult, just doing whatever you want, but you're determined to show her you're much smarter than she thinks. you start going to every class she has, taking no notes, which seemed to annoy her. what seemed to surprise, aggravate, and maybe even impress lilia even more was how well you did on all of her assignments. they were all based on background research. just to spite you, to win this understood yet unspoken battle between the two of you, she assigns an essay based around creating your own philosophy for a construct of society. you, starting to find yourself thinking of your professor, always wondering what she was doing, if she thought of you, if you got under her skin as much as she got under yours, choose "competition", as your construct. the things you write are about her, about how she enrages but fuels you, and how competition can shape attraction and desire. she reads it, and she feels this desire for you. lilia had commented on everyone else's submissions in class besides yours, and you decide to ask about it one day after class, when you're alone with her. it's dangerous, mostly because the pull between you two is becoming too much to ignore. she tells you your construct and philosophy don't go together, and you become frustrated. you demand her to tell you why, so desperate for her to admit she thinks highly of you. she sits in her chair behind her desk, and asks you to leave. you don't accept it, and you try and get her to look at you. when she doesn't, you turn her chair, and you make her look at you. you expected to tell her off, because usually you would in this situation.. but something else happens. instead, you kiss her. one thing leads to another, and you find yourself in her bed. the rest of the fanfic just explores the power dynamic and sexual/romantic connection between lilia and yourself.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | September 9th-15th 2024

10 days until season 8!!! 👀

I'm gonna try and put together a rec of my favourite post-S6 and 7 fics before S8 starts!

If you know anyone who isn't tagged, please let me know and/or tag them in the comments!

Complete

everything comes out teenage by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (First Date | 1K | Mature): “Hey,” Buck says carefully, remembering how he felt when it was his turn on Eddie’s side of the table. “You doing okay over there?”

Loving You is Easy by actualalligator/ @actualalligator (Post-S7 Spec, Getting Together | 1K | General): Nothing good happens after 9:30, Abuela always said. Sometimes good things do happen after 9:30. Sometimes they're important too.

how to slay a dragon by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S7 Spec, Getting Together | 2K | General): Buck didn't know what to expect when he walked into the Han house. He definitely hadn’t expected to see Eddie sitting on the floor with Jee in front of him carefully french braiding her hair. He also hadn’t expected Eddie to be wearing a pink sparkly tiara. He definitely hadn’t expected Eddie to smile up at Buck when he saw him with soft eyes, eyes that didn’t feel like looking into an ocean of sadness, and carefully tie the end of one of the braids he was working on with a little bow. If Buck had ovaries he was pretty sure they would be exploding. 

Here's the Punchline... by misterbabygirl (Getting Together, Post-S4 | 2K | Teen): OR: The 118 find out about the will and start a running joke about Eddie being careful otherwise Buck would end up as a single parent. Eddie tries to make the same joke.

be someone by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (Post-S7, Pre-Buddie | 2K | Teen): A call leaves Buck wondering if he’ll ever be a parent. Not just a donor, a dad. A great dad. Chimney tries to convince him of his qualities – and Eddie has a hard time staying quiet. or: eddie thinks buck already is someone to chris

encounters closer and closer by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Outsider POV, Media Fic | 2,5K | Teen): OR: a group of friends asks the question what's the deal with buckley and diaz?

the clarification of equilibrium by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Post-S7 Spec, Jealous Eddie, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “He leaned?” “Exactly. You know,” Eddie waves a hand. “Leaning.” Buck blinks. He knows he isn’t that drunk, but it honestly feels like he is. “You keep saying that word. I don’t think it means what-” “Leaning, Buck!” Eddie is clearly frustrated that Buck isn’t getting what he’s trying to say, but for two people who are usually on the same wavelength, who are often (lovingly) mocked for their ability to communicate without saying a word, Buck is hopelessly lost as far as this conversation goes. * ... or, the one where Eddie gets jealous about a conversation, and attempts to explain how body positioning works.

every dead-end street led you straight to me by ameliahart (Post-S7 Spec | 5K | Teen): Or, five times one of their exes mistakenly assumed Eddie was Buck's new boyfriend, and one time the ex was right.

i don't believe in god, but i believe that you're my savior by justhockey (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 6K | Teen): The first thing that happens is a Catholic church in the too-hot Texan heat; Eddie’s hands are damp with sweat and he wipes his palms across his best trousers. His Abuelo smacks the back of his hand to get him to stop and Eddie balls them into tiny fists, slips them beneath his thighs so he isn’t tempted to fidget. So he listens. Listens to the priest, and his droning, and his fire and brimstone, burning-in-hell, shameshameshame talk. The first thing that happens is Eddie is born. Born wrong, born twisted, born sinning. He spends the rest of his life trying to make up for it.

I'll Be Your Safe Haven by eightpackdiaz (Safe Haven Baby Box, Alternate Canon | 6K | Teen): A Safe Haven Baby Box is installed at the Station 118 firehouse. Buck's really good with the surrendered babies.

doesn't take a scientist to understand what's going on by Chash / @ponyregrets (Post-S7 Spec, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Eddie is already struggling with having realized he has a thing for Buck and trying to figure out what to do about said thing when Buck finds out he needs glasses. Which means that Eddie also finds out he's really into Buck in glasses. He would prefer to not know this.

🔥 One Hundred Miles an Hour In My Head by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Post-S7 Spec, Jealous Buck | 8K | Teen): Buck sort of assumed that, at some point, he'd evolve out of being needy and insecure. And, to be fair, in some ways, he probably has. He feels a lot more confident existing in the world than he did when he was a kid. He's sure he has the right job, and he mostly thinks that if he got hurt badly enough that he couldn't be a firefighter anymore, he'd figure out another thing to do and another way to help people instead of spiraling like he did after his leg got crushed. He knows who he is, and he knows that he's valued for it. Sometimes, he even thinks stuff might someday be good with his parents. And then there's Eddie.

karma is a cat (purring in my lap) by cuddlyobrien (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 8K | Teen): Eddie finds a kitten, realizes he’s gay, falls in love with Buck and apologizes to Chris. Not in that order but kind of?

all of the girls you loved before by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Post-S7, Getting Together | 9K | Explicit): Buck finishes the math on his fingers, and holds up one spread-wide hand. “Uh,” he says. “I mean, I’ve got a top five?” Everyone groans. - Buck's top five sexual experiences, plus one mediocre handjob.

Please (I've Been On My Knees) by Bookworm0303/ @insertlovelyperson (Canon, S2-S7, Post S7 Spec | 10K | Teen): The five times Buck and Eddie confide in one another about their failed relationships, and the one time they don’t have to.

Clammed Up by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Murder/Mystery | 11K | Teen): Captain Gerrard dies suspiciously at a murder mystery party held at Tommy Kinard's condo, with most of the 118 present. As the case unfolds, Athena finds she no longer knows who among her friends she can trust.

🔥 Next Best by Nejinee/ @nejineeee (A/B/O AU | 20K | Explicit): Eddie had been very clear that they needed to keep their relationship stuff off the job. That meant no make-outs, no groping of asses, and no sexy stuff. Buck was fine with that. (Part 2 of Second Best Series)

🔥 fuck it if i can't have us (series) by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Post-S7 Spec | 2/? | 35K | Explicit)

i love you but i need another year (Post-S7, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 14K | Explicit): If Eddie were still a practicing Catholic, this is the kind of shit he’d go to confession about. — Eddie watches porn, experiences revelation, replies to a lot of text messages. down bad, crying at the gym (Post S7, BuckTommy Break-Up | 21K | Explicit): On Tuesday Buck tells Tommy he loves him. On Thursday he’s giving his best friend a ride to the airport, and they’re pulling up to LAX, and Eddie says “I love you.” — Buck cooks a lot of food, thinks about love, takes pictures of local wildlife.

WIP

how come everybody's dancing but you? by showedupatyourparty (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 1/4 | 7K | Mature): Buck feels guilty. Everyone he loves is going through something painful, difficult, or unexpected right now. And Buck is just…bisexual. It’s great that he’s figured it out, and it’s great that everyone has been so supportive, and Tommy is—Tommy is fine. The sex is good, at least. Consistent. When Buck gets a call from Eddie’s phone late on a Tuesday night in June, it’s cause for concern. * Buck unpacks his own feelings about his recently-discovered bisexuality. Eddie gets adopted by drag queens. They're both just trying their best to be happy.

Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 10/? | 18K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.

[killerpancakeburger]

Another Headache

SUMMARY: You get another one of your chronic headaches, and the meds don't don't work. Soap's by your side though.

PAIRING: Soap x F!Reader (Soap calls Reader "pretty girl" once, that's the only mark of gender)

TAGS: Hurt/Comfort, fluff, suggestive at the end, Soft!Soap, Established relationship, Civilian!Reader, Reader works as Price's assistant.

WARNINGS: The suggestiveness at the end, mention of chronic pain.

WORDS COUNT: 1.8k

A/N: Lots of Soaps I like in there... pouting Soap, drawing Soap, needy Soap, Human calculator Soap (because of that one post that I KNOW I REBLOGGED BUT CANT FIND!! CURSE U TUMBLR!)

“1245.87… minus 56.43… divided by 98.62….” you mumble out loud to yourself, painstakingly inputting each digit into your calculator.

“12.06,” pipes up Soap without missing a beat, not looking up from his sketchbook where he's drawing.

You look up from the device and throw him a mildly annoyed glare, assuming he concocted a random number to confuse you. It's the first explanation that comes to your mind, the most logical one, even though it would be out of character for Johnny to make your work harder, even as a joke. 

“Very funny.”

Then you press the result touch and your eyes widen as the machine provides the exact same answer.

“How in the hell…?”

You look at your boyfriend again, irritation gone out the window, replaced by amazement and a dash of admiration.

“Do you have a calculator for brain or something?”

“S'basic stuffs for sniping and demolition works.” 

The explanation is way too abrupt for anyone who knows how much Johnny enjoys his job, rambling, and rambling about his job. You raise an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Can you develop?”

An amused smirk stretches his lips as he still persists in not looking at you.

“Bonnie, ye need tae focus oan yer work, or ye'll git us in trouble.”

You groan in protest. Being lectured about trouble by Soap “Troublemaker” Mactavish out of all people, you couldn’t make it up. That doesn't make him less right unfortunately. 

Your supervisor, John Price, only allowed his Sergeant to hang out in your office during his free time on the express condition that it would not impact your tasks. You initially couldn’t imagine that blue-eyed menace sitting still for hours only for your sake; to do your own thing in your own side of the room in silence, without any physical contact, nor any other sign of acknowledgement? That was Ghost's idea of a good time, but Soap's idea of torture.

However, it turned out you underestimated his willpower, and his determination to take advantage of every moment that could be shared with you. The intimate knowledge that he was holding back this whole time, and that the minute the clock would strike the end of your workday, he would be all over you like usual, warmed your heart and sent pleasing tingles everywhere in your body.

Sympathetic to your plight, Johnny adds with indulgence and cheekiness in his tone: 

“Ah ken how much ye like mah voice, but we'll make up fur lost time after.”

You roll your eyes at the suggestive taunt, still recognizing the comment for what it is - a consolation to compensate for his refusal to extend earlier. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from retorting about how distracting he's actually being even when drawing in silence, his biceps bulging with his posture, and the mix of concentration and serenity on his face strangely captivating. 

The expression he wears when sketching is one you're particularly fond of. It reveals a different kind of intensity than the one he usually displays, when eager for battle or indignant in front of injustice. It is one not many are privy to, since he tends to favor the solitude of his bedroom to scribble, making this scene all the more special and giving it an intimate tone that's enough to make your heart race.

A loving smile on your face, you throw yourself into your work.

You can feel it coming from miles away.

That accursed headache. Pushing behind your forehead, between your eyebrows and sneaking behind your temples.

Its reasons could very well be everything or nothing; the mix of cold weather and your own tiredness, the acute light from the winter sun blinding your eyes in the absence of sunglasses, the long hours spent in front of a screen.

It is light yet harsh all at once. Muffled pain always felt worse than a sharp one. Yet you know from experience it is only going to hurt more from here on.

Gritting your teeth in a grimace of discomfort, you press your hand against your forehead. The coolness of your fingers provides a respite, albeit a short-term one.

Is there even any painkillers left in your bag? You can’t remember the state of your stock-

A familiar box is suddenly moved in your line of sight. Your usual brand of aspirin.

You look up to see Soap staring at you expectingly. You take the medecine with a grateful smile.

“You really are full of surprises today!”

He pouts as he hands you your water bottle.

“Wi’ how often ye git those bloody things, a'd have tae be a bloody eejit for nae knowing how tae deal with ‘em.”

He sounds like your chronic migraines offended him, personally, and it's both adorable and hilarious.

“That's still very sweet,” you insist after swallowing the treatment.

He brings a lock of hair behind your ear before tenderly kissing your forehead.

“That's me, “Sweet Soap” Mactavish.”

That drags a giggle out of you.

An hour later, as the meds miserably failed, you’re not laughing at all anymore.

At least your work is done for the day, granting you the luxury to suffer on the rec room's couch. Laying on your back, head on the armrest, you’re pressing the heels of your hands into your closed eyelids while groaning in agony. Any bright light or screen increases the pain, so keeping your eyes closed is the only protection conceivable.

Seated right by you, your legs laying over his lap, Soap squeezes your tigh in support, itching to bring you relief but unsure how.

“What can I do?”

You remove your hands from your face to peek at him. If the ache behind your temples wasn’t occupying all space in your thoughts, you would have fussed over his chagrined expression that wasn’t without reminding you of a worried puppy. He was torn between concern for you and frustration of not being able to do anything. Johnny absolutely hated not being capable of remedying a problem. It made you want to cover his face in kisses, not only to placate his frustration, but also because you were filled with cute aggression.

“Well, I have this theory that if someone hit me really hard in the head with a baseball bat, it would help…”

“How the bloody ‘ell would it help!?”

“The pain from the blow would replace the headache.”

“How does replacing pain with pain helps…?”

“I prefer the acute pain of a strike than the dull one of a headache. It's way more bearable.”

“M not hitting you with a baseball bat,” he exclaimed, clearly convinced that the pain had made you go insane.

“I'll just ask Simon instead.”

At this point, you’re insisting more to rile him up rather than out of seriousness.

“Nae yer not,” he retorts vehemently, voice bordering on a growl.

You're about to laugh when he suddenly gets up, still taking care to not send your legs flying off the sofa. Worried that you managed to actually piss him off, you half pick yourself up, raising on your forearms, but he exits the room before you can catch his expression, ordering you to not go anywhere. Not like you were planning to anyway.

You flop back on the couch, closing your eyes and massaging your temples. A moment later, deliciously cold fingers rest on your forehead. You hum in appreciation.

“Better?”

“I love you,” you declare boldly.

The husky laughter Soap emits in response is almost as soothing as his touch.

You suddenly open your eyes as a realization dawns on you.

“Johnny, why are your hands fucking freezing?”

“Put ‘em under cold water,” he retorts casually, like it was evident.

You sigh, closing your eyelids, endeared by his behavior but also a bit fed up.

“You're crazy.”

He chuckles again.

“Crazy in love maybe.”

You don't need to look at him to know the smug smirk he's displaying with that comment.

“Wipe that goofy smile off your face, Mactavish.”

“Make me.”

You playfully slap whatever part of his body is nearby, then sigh once more.

“It's only a temporary solution, though. Unless you intend to spend all night turning your hands into ice cubes.”

“Ah could try-”

“Johnny, no.”

“Johnny, yes.”

“Don't be silly.”

“Will have tae be, unless ye've got a better option.”

“Laying in the dark with a wet cloth could help… or at least it's supposed to.”

This is how you ended up in Soap's bedroom with the lights off, both of you laying on his bed, you nuzzled on his torso with his arm around your waist, a washcloth soaked with freezing water on your forehead.

“Is it working?” he asks, barely a few minutes after settling down.

You cannot contain a smile at the impatience in his voice.

“More or less. But what sucks the most with this method is.. “

“Aye?”

“I'm so freaking bored. Cannot read, cannot use my phone, cannot fall asleep either. And with no distraction, I cannot focus on anything but the pain.”

“Ah could distract ye... If ye wanted.” he immediately suggests.

“What are you thinking of, pretty boy? Surely nothing… inappropriate.’

Despite your playful words, your fingers start idly running down his chest, and the shiver that travels his skin in response doesn't leave you indifferent. You hear him suck in a breath, and he grasps your wandering hand only to press it flat against his pectoral, even raising his breast to deepen the contact. Meanwhile the hand holding you tightens its grip on your flesh before traveling lower to grab your ass. 

“Now that yer mentioning it, ah read online that it could help wi’ headaches…”

“That what could help, Johnny?”

“An orgasm, bonnie,” he rasps.

You let out an amused sigh at the bold statement, trying to hide how much effect the rasp of his voice has on you.

“Hear me oot-” he pleads, apparently worried that you’re taking him for a perverted loser obsessed with his own pleasure over your comfort. “A'm not bullshitting ye-”

“I know, baby,” you appease him. “I know about the orgasm being a thing.”

“Ye know?... wait, ye knew this whole time? Why didn’t ye say anythin’?”

“Let's just say I'm skeptical of that method.”

“Did ye already try it?”

“Nope. But I'll believe it when I see it.”

“Then let me make ye a believer, pretty girl. Please? Pretty please? Will make ye feel so, so good, promise. Lemme take away yer pain, hen.”

He punctuates his begging by burning kisses, on your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck. His fingers sneak under your shirt, tickling your waist. The neediness in his voice and his touch makes you whine his name helplessly.

“Johnny…”

He echoes your whimper with a moan of your name.

“Alright, alright,” you capitulate. “For the sake of experimentation.”

[facingthenorthwind]

AO3 tag capitalisation and why you can't change it

Have you ever tagged your fic in all Title Case and then discovered one of your tags has become all lowercase when you hit save? Or had it become title case when you tried to type it in lowercase? Does this offend your aesthetic sensibilities?

If you said yes to any of these questions, I would like to offer my deepest condolences. I, too, have had this problem. Unfortunately, you can't fix it (except in one very specific situation).

The first time a tag is used determines its capitalisation (unless it becomes a canonical). For example, I'm sure not everyone who tagged kylux au intended for it to be all lowercase, but the first user who tagged it capitalised it that way, and so it remains. This is because the wrangulator (the part of the AO3 backend that handles tags; yes this is what we officially call it) treats different capitalisations of a tag as the same tag, and isn't capable of having it display differently in different fics.

There are two situations where capitalisation can change: firstly, it could become the exact phrasing of a canonical tag. This is what it's called when a tag becomes filterable and multiple tags that mean the same thing (called syns) get connected together and all redirect to the canonical. For more info, you can read this post I wrote! All canonical tags get changed to title case when they're made canonical, because the tag edit page that wranglers can see enables wranglers to change the capitalisation of a tag (it also allows us to change the diacritics, but not anything else). If your tag is a synonym of that canonical, its capitalisation does not get changed, only if you've used the exact phrasing that later becomes canonical (for how to tell what kind of tag something is, please see the post I linked earlier). For example, if I was the first user of the tag "obi-wan on tatooine" and typed it all lowercase, it will remain lowercase even when the tag wrangler syns it to the canonical "Obi-Wan Kenobi on Tatooine". But if I was the first use of "obi-wan kenobi on tatooine" and typed it all lowercase, when it's canonised it will change appearance on my work to be in title case. Tag wranglers will never change the capitalisation of your tag in any other situation.

Secondly, if you are the only use on an unfilterable tag (which means it has not been synned anywhere), it is technically possible to change the capitalisation if you decide that you want to change how it looks later. In order to do so, delete the tag from your work. Then wait approximately 24 hours (give it a few more for leeway) and tag your work again. You should be able to now tag it with different capitalisation. The reason you have to wait 24-ish hours is because of a part of the wrangulator called the rake. The rake deletes any unfilterable tag that has zero uses (except if it's used in a tagset) approximately 24 hours after it's made. Notably, any tag that has been synned to a canonical does not get raked. If you want to check if your zero-use tag has been deleted yet, you can search for its exact text in tag search. If it still exists, it will be a search result and show (0) after it. If it's been deleted, it won't show up at all. It's important to note that just because an unfilterable tag shows up in tag search with (0) after it, that doesn't mean it will be raked in the future! These are usually tags in a tagset, which don't disappear. A tagset (example) is used by people running challenges for participants to have a pool of tags to choose from. There is no way to determine whether a tag is in a tagset, not even as a wrangler! You just have to assume it's the case if it never disappears. And remember, if anyone else has used the tag you're trying to change, it won't work!

So in conclusion: sorry about the tag that is the wrong capitalisation. You almost certainly can't fix it.

[sillygoosealert]

hiii🌚🌚 you should totally make a little thing where we’re running from danny during a trial and get stuck in a window while trying to vault and yk.. he fucks us from behind and it’s like a “help me step bro i’m stuck🥺” kinda position yk HEHEHE 😈😈😈

Sorry i fell off the face of the earth for a few days i had to like idk reset myself ☆(≧∀≦*)ﾉ

Never say step bro I'm stuck again I'm not even joking I'll block you, Stinky

Danny Johnson NSFW, raw, has no aftercare, and a little plot but mainly smut, he’s MEAN (cannon bc because he murders people), um actually he's also COCKY (cannon bc he kills people), and he calls you piggy ( cannon because he likes horror and that is a black Christmas reference) knife stuff

Fog whisps around you as you are forced into another trial. Another day another round. Is it day, or is it night? You may never find the answer.

The entity is cruel in your clothing, a skirt to your mid-thigh, and a button down. Nothing to keep in the warmth. Nothing to hide you from the reality that is the cold red forest.

You think your teammates must all be together- not including you, because a generator is done at lightning speed. Then you hear guttural screams, plural, also at lightning speed. Maybe you shouldn't get them, you'll too just die. Survival of the fittest. They won't remember the trial if you let them die, it's like they have a reset- or something.

You're crouching, lurking, and waiting. Not for long, as The Ghostface jumps out at you.

‘Boo’

He's snickering and taunting you. Mocking the screams of your now-fallen teammates.

A jungle gym is in sight, if you abuse the window and stun him, perhaps the hatch could be located. Maybe you're too tubby, or maybe because the entity is against you, but the window gets blocked from the top halfway through. You do not make it, you are stuck.

He’s snorting and making animal noises behind you.

‘What’s the entity feeding you that you can’t get through the windows?’

‘Oh, it’s blocked.’

He grabs your thighs and tries to pull you out. However, his pullout game must be weak as you do not budge.

He keeps his hands on your thighs as he whistles.

‘Can you not get out?’

‘No?’

‘Does this happen a lot?’

‘First time actually’

You're shivering, it's too much. He's too casual about it.

‘I could cut you in half and play magician, that would be rather amusing ’

‘Please don't’

‘Do you have something else in mind, piggy?’

Nothing. Actually, you're crying a little, but you don't say anything.

He starts to coo and awe at your noises, rubbing and kneading your ass.

He goes around to your other side and pulls out his camera. You’re a mess. Wiping away tears from your cheeks and eyes.

‘That's it. Perfect. That's the picture I'll keep of you.’

He’s taking a couple photo’s. More than needed. Maybe he likes it when you cry, the glossy kind of look.

‘Just me and you babe, whatever will we do?��

He snaps the band on your panties. You just realize nothing is left to his imagination from where he is now standing again.

‘Are you scared?’

‘A little’

There isn't any reason to tell the truth or lie to him. But you think he likes it when you're scared, something kinky.

The cold plastic of his mask is pressed into your ass. He's sniffing you..?

You can feel the squeeze of his hands on your thighs, groaning into them.

He takes off the mask, not that you can him. But the feel of his warm tongue is enough to assume he took it off.

But that's not the only thing to come off, as he slips off your panties as well.

Spreading open your folds, you can hear the shudder of the camera as he takes pictures of your pussy.

You know it's wet, it was dripping on your underwear. What lewd photos he now will have. Blackmail material?

He begins sucking on your clit, shoving his face into you.

Messy, unplanned, and purely out of want.

That's not how Danny usually went. Besides all the times he did things out of rage, like the laser tag incident..

After he's mixed his spit into your cunt, he's ready.

Pulling up his cloak and pulling down his pants, he stares at you.

You're pretty. And you have a nice ass.

Maybe you would make a good girlfriend, maybe.

But he just wants to fuck you right now, really hard

He pumps himself before sliding in.

He's thick, but also kinda lean?

You're shaking again, this is much too abrupt for you

Pinching your leg, he pulls out his blade.

‘A little blood never hurt anyone, right?’

He starts to cut into your thigh. His thrust growing more erotic

Putting the knife away, he smacks the place he just sliced up

Yelping, you start to cry, again.

‘I like that- you crying. Sob for me’

‘You're doing good, do you like merely laying there as you get violated? This could happen to anyone, whore or not. Does that scare you?’

A rhetorical question, he just wants you to cry while he scratches your bleeding leg.

He starts to rub your clit, whipping his knife out again.

‘Where do you want me to put my signature?’

‘It hurts- stop, please..’

Caving GF into your back is a blur to both of you, as he is still occasionally slapping your body around while thrusting considerably too hard

He pulls out and cums all over your wounds, covering them slightly in semen.

‘People would be shaking if they saw this. Are you shaking because of me?’

You didn't even realize you weren't stuck anymore. Only after you fell backward you realized.

‘I'm going to let you go back. But I want you to tell them what I did to you- scare them. Let them know they are not safe from me.’

‘Okay, I promise, I'll tell them’

He picks you up and walks around with you clinging to him.

When you are near the hatch, he puts you down.

‘A picture- for you, to keep’

He's sitting with you on the ground, keeping you in his lap. Putting his face right next to yours- actually, you don't remember when he put the mask back on. You didn't get to see his face.

The light hurts, but he gives you a little polaroid with the two of you face to face, cheek to cheek.

It would be cute if he didn't just cut up your legs

Tucking the photo into your bra, he drops you into the hatch. How kind of him.

He waves goodbye, you do not wave back.

It wasn't bad, it was just a lot. Rushed? Scary? Harmful?

Kinda hot, but you really hope he doesn't keep those photos. For blackmail reasons..

🎀

[simp-ly-writes]

"Need a Lift?"

─────── · ·

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!British!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: It is your first time traveling to the USA, once there you are like a fish outta water but thankfully you run into Spencer who is more than willing to help you!

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, meet-cute, fluff, cute, probably stereotypical british things.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,209

─ · · A/N: in anons we trust for cute asks like this! 🫶

─────── · ·

It was your first time traveling to the USA. You were a 'creator on the rise' youtube told you and next thing you knew you were being placed on a pre-paid flight to creator-con with a fancy badge dangling from your neck.

You were completely out of your element and went into an immediate culture shock at the vast space there was between cities and states to blocks and buildings. Just the grand scale of it all and even the events hall itself held you floored as you were quite embarrassed to admit your mouth was quite literally hanging open.

You thought back to your three-story row house, two lane roads, and easily accessible public transit, everything only being a hop, skip, and a jump away. So when you were not thinking to set your timer earlier than you usually got up, you were rushing around your hotel room to get ready and get your ass over to your meet-and-greet on time.

Choosing random clothes out of your suitcase while cursing the living heavens our of yourself and your door that failed multiple times to lock, you were stumbling into the elevator with your shoes half on and your sweater askew, non-the-obvious to the other inhabitant of the elevator.

"What floor are you headed two?" a male voice piped up as you whipped your head around, catching your appearance in the mirrored interior and giving yourself a wince. "Oh-ah, the street floor please?" your quickly answer, giving the man a quick once over and the politest smile your can muster before fixing your appearance and feeling around in your pockets for your badge.

"I think what you're looking for is in your back pocket," he comments, giving you a awkward smile back. "Cheers, thanks," you answer back, reaching around and pulling it over your head with a sigh of relief before realizing he is wearing a matching one.

"You going to this event too?" You ask, waving around your badge to his nod. "Yeah, I'm actually doing a panel in 15 minutes. I didn't think I would sleep in so much, it was not that far of a drive for me..." his sentence ends with stressed laughter that you join.

"So you're from around here?" you now take a longer look at the man before the elevator door opens and he lets you go out first before you both walk in tow to the front of the lobby and out to the car-loop.

"Yeah, I work about three hours away from here on a good day. By the accent, it sounds you're visiting outta town I assume?"

"Mhmm, first time in the United States actually and I never expected it to be this bloody hot in fall," you mutter once emerging out of the air conditioned space, throwing off all those layers you struggled to put on this morning.

The man laughs, his joyfulness reaching his eyes has your heart miss a beat as you take in the curls underneath his baseball cap, un noticing to the embroidered logo. "Yeah, the weather doesn't seem to change much around here, its either kinda hot or hella hot. Since we are heading the same way, would you 'need a lift?'" he teases your accent as you consider your answer.

"I would say that was one of the better interpretations, good on you. I don't think I would usually say this to someone I just met but sure, that would be lovely actually since I have no idea where I am going," it is now your time to anxiously laugh to receive a comforting smile.

"The passengers side should be unlocked, hop in," you get open the door and buckle yourself in. "I forgot to ask your name," you state, watching as he fixes a pair of sunglasses to his face before putting an arm around the back of your chair to back out of the parking lot.

You take notice of the tattoos stretching up his forearm and try and peer at the ones hidden near his shoulder with utmost intrigue. "Spencer Angew, yours?"

"(first/name) (last/name), pleasure to meet you."

"And you as well, so what events are you heading for?"

"Oh, I'm casted in an event also in... ten minutes now," you look down to check your phone and catching an onslaught of notifications coming from your social platforms. Not wanting to feel rude to the conversation, you cast away your work into your discarded jacket on your lap.

"Is it the old meets new panel?" Spencer asks, shifting gears as you pull out onto the highway. "Yeah," you confirm.

"I'm doing the same one, funny odds of that happening, huh?"

"Very much so but from our conversation so far, I'm happy to be doing it with you," you add, not looking to see his reaction and instead watch the vast sea of cars and signs around you.

"I'll have to say the same, I was quite nervous for this one since I would be the only member from the cast to be on it-"

Your head whips back over, your eyebrows raised in confusion. "Wait, you're on a cast? I thought this was a creators event?" You quickly open up your email to read over the documents you signed a few days ago in panic. You were not a professional actor, director, nor comedian. What the hell were they going to expect you to do on that stage?

"It is, the company I work for does skit comedy and we have a cast that preforms skits in between their outside work," Spencer explains, taking a look at the mirrors before looking at you. Now catching the logo atop his head, your eyes widen.

"Oh my god, thats so cool! Wait... do you work for Smosh? I used to love watching those dudes when I was a kid, didn't understand much of what they were referencing but they're still going at it?" you gush, arms now leaning over the console in excitement as Spencer tenses before relaxing.

"Yeah, I work for them..." Spencer trails off, listening to the GPS system to take the next right. Your brain short-circuits, forgetting that the roads where different. "That must be weird working with like the fathers of youtube?" you ask.

"It was at first but by the third year, it wears off and you just realize they are two dudes making videos, or well now running a business to make videos." And the next thing you knew you're both entering through the guest side-entrance and are being ushered on stage.

It is a roaring of claps and cheers as your eyes blink and your body freezes. Spencer places a hand on your upper back, giving you a look of concern. "You alright?" he has to shout in your ear as staff rush to fit your microphones and sound packs. "With a handsome lad like you sitting beside me, I have nothing to worry about," you tease to instil false confidence within yourself.

Spencer laughs, shaking his head at you, his cheeks warming as you cast him a wink, that series of events would be clipping to every social platform in the next hour and a new shipped was formed that morning.

─────── · ·

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala @laurasdrey

[screamingcrows]

I am sadly not immune to all the talk of Veritas Ratio in a modern university setting... (Manu - I hope I can call you that - your posts are so sweet) pair that with the autumn mood and you get this;

tags: pure fluff, they're about to be dating your honor, modern university au

minors do not interact!

Veritas had been puzzled at first, while it wasn't exactly odd for you to be fidgeting with something during lectures, it was usually limited to a specific set of items: your water bottle, some form of pen (he had a spare of your preferred tucked away in his bag for the inevitable bad days where you'd had to leave your dorm in a hurry), or the keychain on your bag.

Whatever this new item to catch your attention was, your hand had practically been glued to the inside of your pocket for two weeks.

Conveniently hidden out of sight, forcing his hand.

He catches you at your usual autumn spot, at least it was last year, a fairly secluded bench sheltered from the elements by four old chestnut trees.

You jerk in surprise when he sits down next to you, and warmth blooms in his chest when you close the book in your hand and lightly smack the top of his head. Still, there's no real power behind it. Only one hand is holding the book after all.

"Your pocket," his gaze is momentarily drawn to a lone magpie rummaging through the first yellow leaves to bed the ground.

"My pocket?"

A sigh leaves his lips as you parrot his words, turning to look upon your face. Veritas thinks his heart might burst at the soft confusion etched into your features, so reminiscent of a delicately carved masterpiece and still containing so much that could never be conveyed through cold stone.

"Yes. You've been fiddling with something in your pocket for a few weeks. At first I assumed it was a loose thread, but it persisted through days regardless of your outfit," cool air caressed his cheeks as he breathed, carefully tuning his voice to your widening eyes, "naturally, I've grown curious as to the nature of that item."

Silence sweeps through the air, enough that Veritas can faintly hear the buzz of people closer to campus. What would normally be comfortable, has him shifting a bit. Too keenly aware of your downcast eyes, his hands find solace in adjusting his scarf.

It feels invasive when you pull your hand out, and he finds that perhaps this knowledge wasn't worth the price. But the words never make it from the tip of his tongue, not before you've opened your hand to reveal a single chestnut.

He blinks, the smooth brown reflecting what warm sunlight pierces the overhanging canopy.

You're already talking again, "-and I've just always grabbed one since that, it's just a silly tradition but I enjoy it and it's harmless and-"

"Would you tell me how, in detail?"

The way your shoulders slumped a little confirmed his theory, you'd been about to rile yourself up with nervous ramblings. Veritas turned towards you, leaning against the bench while you sought out words.

"The first thing you do is to gather the very first chestnut you lay eyes on," what else was there to do but oblige in the face of your expectant pause, "and then you whisper a wish to it."

Again, he obliges, wringing his nose at the faint scent of detritus that already clings to anything picked from the ground.

"Now you just, well you carry it with you, just like you carry a wish. And if the wish comes true, then you take it to a stream and throw it in after thanking it."

"And if it doesn't?"

Veritas notes with satisfaction how smooth the chestnut feels under his skin, and how pleased you look upon catching him shift it between fingers.

"Then you return it to the ground, bury it somewhere, and let it bloom when spring comes."

A charming sentiment, even if you kept waving your hands dismissively. There'd been no deeper meaning behind it, just a parent taking measures to keep little hands occupied.

It was sweet, the memories painting your eyes with colors he couldn't imagine never getting to see again. Time worked differently with you, it always did, and too soon did the evening air chill.

Several hours had passed, time that Veritas should have spent studying, had allocated in his schedule for completing at least two assignments. Yet he couldn't quite find it in himself to mourn.

"Here," he removed his scarf to bundle it around your neck, deft hands adjusting it to let you breathe, "you were shaking, maybe it's time to head inside?"

Something foreign drifted through your eyes and held him captive, leaning forward like this would make it so easy to-

Your lips were just as forgiving as your words, molding perfectly against his even in the brief moment before his mind caught up and he pulled back.

An apology was at the tip of his tongue, cheeks already heating up and mind thrown into a frenzy unrivaled by the most advanced calculations.

All thoughts of your friendship souring turned to dust when he saw you stand, throwing your chestnut as far towards the little lake nearby as you could.

Oh.

With a thundering heart, Veritas pocketed his own chestnut, unable to resist the urge to give it a little pat.

"Wait- you still have yours? Veritas what did you wish for?"

A laugh bubbled from his chest at your expression morphing from bliss to pure petulance, the sound sending flutters through his body, how rarely he could let go.

And always in your presence.

"Veritas! It's not funny, it would've been so romantic!"

He merely hummed, enjoying the fleeting heat of your skin as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, "perhaps I wished for something less fleeting."

[finniestoncrane]

2.5k Event Request - Egon Spengler x Fem!Reader word count: 875 a/n: listen, if i thought for a minute that egon was getting his jollies from spying on me after i'd showered i'd be putting on such a fuckin show ;-; cw: voyeurism, peeping, masturbation, handjobs, cmnf 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

There was very little to do in the long hours between call-outs. It could get boring, and lonely. And while pornography had killed both of those little nuisances before, it was getting hard to satiate his growing lust for you by imagining your face on the bodies of the women on the screen or in his magazines.

And who was it really hurting, if you never found out? And you hadn't so far, not once of the many times he had snuck up to your room to satisfy his darker urges.

The floor creaked regardless of whether someone was walking over it, your door never quite closed which meant it could be pushed open just a crack, enough for him to see. It was an exercise in stealth, but one he was happy to risk for his pleasures.

The sound of the shower turning off, pipes clunking as they relaxed, signalled his cue. The others were clueless, not caring much what he was up to as they assumed it was always something deeply scientific, and therefor, more often than not, boring. It meant none of them paid attention to Egon as he took long strides to quickly make it to the hallway outside of your room, set apart from the barracks he slept in with the others.

Pushing the door open slowly, carefully, he was pleased to see he was just in time to see you drop the towel, exposing your back to him, water dripping down your spine and curving over your rear. His fingers quietly unzipped his fly, hand diving in under the fabric to palm at his cock. He wished he could relish the view, but you were so quick usually. There was little time to enjoy the show, so he pushed into his underwear and began pumping at his stiffening cock.

As his palm slicked up the shaft, you bent over suddenly, legs spreading enough to give him a perfect view of your cunt, open, exposed. The sight of you in that position was a first, and a whimper of arousal trickled out of his open mouth. Hearing the sound, you whipped your head towards the source, walking towards the door, body jiggling in a way that only made him harder, impossible to move in time to hide.

You'd caught him in the act. Standing there, eyes unblinking behind the lenses of his round glasses, usually pale cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Well? Do you have an excuse? Or are you going to stand there in stunned silence?"

That was exactly what he did.

"Wow. Egon Spengler, lost for words. I never thought I'd see the day. You know, you could have said you were studying me, or observing me. It wouldn't have been ok, but it would have at least been funny."

You were enjoying this a lot more than you should, but there was something deeply flattering about it. And knowing he had a thing for you, the way you had one for him, felt like a win, regardless of how creepy he might have revealed himself to be. In fact, the little bit of creep, the nasty, devious nature of the act, only made him more attractive, and you felt your morals falling to the side as you caught a glimpse at his still hard cock pushing against the front of his pants.

"Well... are you going to keep going? Or are you too shy now?"

He swallowed the lump that had collected in his throat, nerves and saliva and fear falling to the pit of his stomach with the audible gulp.

"A little bit pathetic, Egon. The things you've seen, and you're scared of me?"

You took a few steps towards him, watching his eyes widen and his pupils growing darker.

"I'd like you out of my room, please. But I'm not cruel. You can finish first."

Egon opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was caught in confusion, not enitrely sure what you were suggesting, or at least not wanting to believe the scenario playing out before him, which felt too good to be true.

"I suppose I'll have to do that for you then, will I?"

From where you stood, a few steps from him, you reached your arm out and ran your palm along the tent at the front of his pants, biting your lip to stop from smirking at the soft whine that trembled out of his open mouth.

He looked terrified, but eager, as he bucked his hips towards your toucch. Deciding to lessen the threat, you dropped to your knees, offering him a bit of dominance, if only suggested, as you reached into his open fly and pulled out his cock.

Curling your fingers around his long length, you let out a soft giggle, eyes flicking upwards to catch his as he stared unblinking at you, unsure of how to take what was happening. It could have been a trap, and he was smart enough to not trust anyone at first glance. But your touch was soft, inviting, and the way your lips parted in a satisfied moan was enough to have him relaxing into your grip, running his fingers through his thick curls as his knees began to buckle.

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part VII)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 3.2k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: sexual tension, suggestive stuff.

Notes: bonding chapter of this slow burn aaaa thanks again for reading :D

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part VII: No More Doubts

When you left the motel early after a quick and dull breakfast, Ben was a pain in the ass as he kept asking question after question on the road. You knew he could just leave you alone but it wasn’t really something you’d like him to do. He was a fugitive, so were you. Soldier Boy knew better than that and he only had to stay by your side as much as he hated the idea. The only thing you could truly answer was that you were driving to a safer place. At least you were hoping it was. When you pulled the car after driving hours between the grove, Soldier Boy was waking up from his nap. You thanked heaven for that.

“We’re here,” you announced, turning off the engine.

Ben stirred on his seat, taking in the view of the house and nature and got out of your car, following you to the front door. He couldn’t help but to look around in somewhat awe. It was a large cottage-style house decorated with earth tones, great walls and columns. The place was surrounded by countless trees, making the weather bearable and somewhat nice due to the hidden location. The leaves climbed on some of the windows and the plants and flowers rested on the ground perfectly neat. He assumed you came here often. But it wasn’t really the place you used to come by and sleep every single day. It was too far away from the facility. As you unlocked the door, Ben followed inside, not without taking a last glance at your surroundings. No homes were near, nothing was to be seen. Only you and him inside this big fucking house.

The indoors were no different from the impression he got first. The decoration, the expensive sofa where you threw the sports bag, and the paintings and pots all over the place were saying you were rich. Of course, a fucking rich whore you were, he thought to himself. And he wondered where your real place was located.

“So, I’m gonna show you a guest room and then around, please don’t screw my house,” you said, giving him the sports bag.

“Got something to drink?” he asked, a smirk plastering on his face as he stepped closer to where you were standing.

“Water I do.”

Ben chuckled for a bit, eyes not leaving your face. “You’re so fucking boring, you know?”

“Yeah, well, alcohol is not really an important supply. Just follow me and maybe I’ll get you some later,” you said, turning around to get to the stairs.

You knew he did as you asked when his big steps echoed around the place. Once you were on the second floor, you motioned him to the next room a couple of feet away from yours and gave him directions about the bathroom and the manners. If he was going to be in your place, then he had to behave.

“I told you already, I’m not a fucking animal,” he complained after hearing your orders.

“Sure,” you dragged the word, eyes narrowed. “Because last night you were so civilized in the bathroom.”

He scoffed and then chuckled. “Did I get too loud?”

“You fucking tell me,” you replied with a much annoying smile on your face to match his own.

“Could’ve joined me. We’re not patient and doctor anymore,” 

“No.”

Just as the last word fell off your lips, your phone rang. Quickly you took the call, realizing it was Grace. You left Soldier Boy in his room and walked down the stairs a little too fast.

“You made it?” she asked on the other line.

“Yeah, arrived just minutes ago,” you answered, checking the stairs in case he followed. “Where are you, Grace?”

“That doesn’t matter. I have something for you.”

“Okay, tell me.”

“I will text you an address and an hour. Today. Don’t miss it.”

Your phone buzzed, announcing the information had arrived.

“I won’t.”

“I’ll keep calling through different phone numbers. Do what you have to do to complete the cure,” she said, like if she knew what was happening between both now.

Soldier Boy was unbearable but you had to keep him on track. Luckily, you were back home again and you’ll be working on the Anti V soon, praying the last bits of information and results of the last test were there for some reason.

“I’m doing my best,” you sighed.

Grace hummed.

“Good.”

“Any updates so far?”

Ben’s smooth voice woke you up from your daydreaming while you sat together in the dining room.

You had been able to make something quick for lunch after Grace called and you found yourself all jittery and tense, hoping Soldier Boy wouldn’t notice. But he did sense something different from you. So he kept insisting on what was going on.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, taking the last sip of water from your glass. You avoided his eyes, looking away.

He rolled his eyes and narrowed at you. “Has your office contacted you?” 

You shook your head.

“So they’re dead,” he said. Not asking, but affirming it.

A heavy sigh left your lips, your eyes going back to his harsh ones. “Leaving was the best.”

“Who’s that you keep in touch with?”

“What?”

Ben groaned slightly before snapping back with a low voice. “C’mon, Y/N. You called yesterday on the road, and now you receive a call. Who the fuck is it?”

His question is not just an inquiry anymore. He’s demanding to know. But you also know he hated Grace Mallory for putting him to sleep again, confined to a chamber where he’d be a trophy for the government to do whatever they wanted, how they wanted. Until you appeared, offering him empty words. Just like everyone.

“My superior.”

Your answer hit him like a truck. He knew it was Grace, but he didn’t like hearing it from you. 

The truth was, Ben didn’t like you… Not that much. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he wanted to kill you, sometimes the small common sense he still had on his head would say you’d be better alive. He had been thinking of going away, but not he didn’t really want to. He knew you had been working with Grace, he was no idiot. So maybe staying close should get him even closer to Homelander and Vought. He also thought of Ryan back in the cell you had put him in. He was so damn afraid Ryan would become like his father. And since the brat has been protected before by many people, finding would not be easy. That’s where your contacts and network would be a help to him. He was hoping to find something at your place to find them and the information he craved.

“Right,” he said, alarmingly calm and quiet. He took the last bite of pasta on the plate and swallowed down in silence under your gaze. You didn’t know what else to say.

“So, these powers of yours,” he continued, drinking the last sip of juice. “How’d you get them?”

“Why do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “I mean, they’re pretty fucking useless against me,” his words made you chuckle. Of course you knew that. “But I’m just wondering if you’d be with them.”

Your face turned back to a somber demeanor. “The Seven?”

He gave you a nod.

“Well, it’s not like all supes dream of that,” you uttered. “I just wanted to be normal.”

Ben raised a brow at your sudden confession. “Someone exploded everyone’s heads at the CIA. Sorry to say, sweetheart, but you suck at being normal.”

“Yeah, details I have to work with.”

“I take it you never went to them,” he continued and saw confusion on your face. “Vought.”

The word made you shudder for a slight moment, and you quickly tried to collect yourself to avoid him noticing.

“No, I never did.”

He scrutinized your eyes, hearing the poor increase of your heartbeats. They were enough to tell him something was wrong. But he decided to play along, so he nodded and gave you a rather compassionate look.

“Must be thankful they didn’t fuck up your life then.”

He had no idea.

You had parked the car outside an abandoned gas station; it was one of the nearest grocery stores to your home years ago. The now wasteland was almost two hours away, with a gas station around ten miles elsewhere. You had been waiting for Grace outside the car, leaning against the hood. Bored, you checked your phone again. When you arrived it was already past three o’clock. When twenty minutes went by, you wanted so badly to drive and get inside the next store you see and buy yourself food and supplies enough to survive a week or two with the idiotic supe now staying at your home. Grace said would be calling through a different phone but you received no calls so far. You’ve been waiting for more than an hour and the drive home wasn’t going to be shorter. Suddenly another car came into sight, pulling over near yours. Two men came out of it.

“Doctor Y/N?”

The stranger with the unknown voice and a weird accent caught your attention. Soon, you found the two tall men standing in front of you in the parking lot.

“We’re here on behalf of Grace Mallory,” the man continued.

He wore a long dark trench coat, looking rough and intimidating. The total opposite to the younger one, who gave you a kind smile once your eyes settled on him.

“How-”

“We have something for you,” the younger man continued. “I’m Hughie. Hughie Campbell,” he introduced himself, giving you a hand and fixing the backpack on his shoulder with the other one. You took it after a moment of hesitation. “He’s Billy Butcher, we’ve worked with Grace before.”

You nodded. “I thought she was the one coming.”

“She’s not in shape for that,” Billy answered. He realized your face changed at his words and quickly explained himself. “Vought’s cunts are looking for her, not safe.”

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath. “Great, awesome. So what do you have for me?”

“We, uhm, we made it to your facility and thought these could do some help,” Hughie took out a pouch and gave it to you.

With trembling hands you opened the pouch and sighed in relief. Five test tubes of the Anti V prototype were laid there. “You found them.”

“And we found a little bit more,” Butcher continued. “Victoria Neuman exploded the heads of your employees back there. We believe Vought had been sneaking and getting spies for themselves.”

“Victoria is a supe,” you voiced out. “A supe is running for vice president…”

“Yeah, long story,” Hughie commented. “She’s obviously linked with Homelander and Vought. Everyone was dead when we arrived; lab assistants, guards, agents, the supes… We believe her mission was to just let you and Soldier Boy out, besides stealing information about the cure you’re working on. Probably to give it to Vought.”

“Anything weird happen there before the attack?” Billy asked, not giving you time to swallow Hughie’s words.

“Uhm, yeah. Actually my lab assistant… She tried to warn me and, well, she was crying and asking me to leave. I didn’t know why until her head just- you know…”

You choked a little with your words. The picture of her body and the last seconds of her life were all you got. Everything was equally horrible that day.

“I’m sorry,” Hughie whispered.

“It’s fine,” you cleared your throat. “And I assume you didn’t find anything else? Information? Files?”

“Computers were destroyed. No files. No info. Nothing,” Butcher answered. “Grace says you’re the leader of the project. You have copies, right?”

“Why everybody keeps fucking asking me that? Of course I do!” you almost yelled, eyes full of rage staring at him.

“Easy there, doc,” Butcher lifted up his hands in surrender. “We just wanna get rid of those cunt supes as much as you want. Nothing wrong to make sure.”

“Well, I do have them,” you replied with a cocky smile. “Thank you very much for your concern, Adele.”

Butcher rolled his eyes, sharing a look with Hughie before switching his attention back to you.

“Yeah, sure you do, luv.”

It was already seven o’clock when you arrived home with supplies and food. Ben, as usually, acted like a fucking caveman claiming he was hungry and you had to act like the housewife, serving him a fucking hamburger and a glass of wine. That was the only liquor you bought. Despite his complaints, his hunger was greater and he devoured the greasy food with no table manners at all.

“You could chew your food like a fucking human being, you know,” you said, eating the last french fries you had. 

He turned his eyes to your face, pointing with his finger. “You were gone for like five hours.”

“So? There’s fruit in the fridge.”

Ben narrowed his gaze, like if he had been offended.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to serve something for yourself,” you teased. He didn’t say a word, and you giggled. “That’s fucking pathetic.”

He leaned towards the dining table, eyes locked on yours. “No, you just don’t know your fucking place, woman.”

“I just saved your life, Ben. At least say thanks,” you beamed, having too much fun by seeing him upset for mundane things.

“No, you didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your wine. “Fine. I didn’t. Let’s go past this and start over. If you’re gonna live here, for now, then you’ll have to learn how to respect me.”

His brows raised. “I thought I already did.”

“Offering yourself to fuck me in a cheap motel is not respectful, Soldier Boy.”

“Well, I didn’t try anything, did I?” Ben finished his sentence at the same time he finished his dinner.

He waited for a smart comeback from you but it never came. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and a stupid grin appeared on his lips. “Unless you want to.”

“No, we’ve been through it. My answer is still no.”

“Then, mind to fucking tell me if you found something by now?”

He changed the topic swiftly. His playful demeanor switched immediately and you sighed, knowing he might have to hear anything to keep him down.

“You’re in danger.”

“I’m the strongest supe ever, that doesn’t make any damn sense,” Ben scoffed.

“Listen, we need to hide from Vought. Hide and not leave a trace, because now I’m involved with you and they’re absolutely looking for your ass,” you gave him a stern look as you went on. “If I fall, you go with me. And if you fall, then I don’t know if they’d still want me. But you’ll be fucked anyway.”

Ben nodded. In his mind, it didn’t sound like a bad plan. In the end, that’s what he wanted; to get closer to Vought and Homelander to get over with them. The world didn’t deserve those fuckers. And as much as Homelander was created with his own DNA, he knew better than to let a scum like him walk around the planet. You already gave him something, a clue. He had to play along for now. If they took you in first, then he might probably bargain to be him instead. It was only fair. He was the one that mattered anyway.

“Okay, I get it. I’ll stay here. But I don’t want those fucking therapies anymore,” he expressed, his gaze not moving away from the surprised look on your face. “Understand?”

You blinked a couple of times, shifting on your seat and chuckling under your breath. “It’s fine, believe me. I can’t stand you more than you do.”

Ben held your gaze, daring you to try something else. Instead, you smiled and got up and took your empty dishes to the sink. His eyes followed your moves, focusing on your small shorts and the softness of your legs. And you knew he was definitely checking you out when you talked.

“By the way, you’ll have to help me wash the dishes.”

He stood up, plates on his hands and walked behind your figure, putting them on the sink as you opened the faucet. His arms surrounded you once he did so and you flinched a bit. Ben smirked, feeling the reaction of your body trapped against his.

“Get away,” you ordered in a whisper, unable to move.

“I’m helping you, Y/N,” he breathed your name against your neck, his hand wrapping on yours gripping on the edge of the sink.

The only sound now was his hot breath on your skin and the water flowing. You quickly turned the faucet off, but you didn’t try to push him away.

It was the second time during the day he had said your name, ever. And you wouldn’t deny it sounded fucking delightful. He had only addressed you as his ‘doctor’, but now it was different. Though, you didn’t want to give into him. He was a huge douchebag and you were basically forced to spend time with him, in your home, without really wanting him there. You felt his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, and the primal part of you yearned for his touch, but the rational one won over and you freed yourself from his arms.

“Stop doing that,” you warned once you were face to face. His eyes were dark already and had a sparkle you knew too much since the day before.

“Alright,” he nodded.

“Just- let’s just wash these. I want to sleep.”

With a tired sigh, you walked down the basement. It was already midnight and Ben was locked inside his room, probably jerking off or something since you, once again, rejected him in your kitchen. Inside the dark room, you found the metal door that let you inside the bunker and unlocked it with the code. When you stepped in, you made sure to turn on the power and lights that illuminated the room and the small lab in the back. The computers started to run and you sat down on the main monitor, leaving the pouch with the Anti V tubes on the side of the desk.

Yeah, you might have told Butcher and Grace you had copies of every detail of the project. But you were afraid of the last stuff you discovered just before the attack. You knew well how the information was protected and encrypted, but it didn’t really assure you the profile of Solaris would be there. He was the first and last supe who had his powers off for a couple of hours at least and the feeling of losing it all had been eating you the last few hours after meeting with Grace’s messengers.

It took you a while to decrypt the system, something you had been already used to doing every time you got there to keep working on it, just to make sure no one would steal it. Hopefully, Vought hadn’t discovered it before destroying the facilities, you thought. And after a while, you found the last updates of the last test your team ran. Solaris profile and test was there. Not just in written letters, but the footage of the test and the exact formula that was used too. Now, you were so lucky.

“Well, thank you, Bianca. Wherever you are,” you whispered to yourself and took a tube from the pouch the men gave you earlier. You had a busy night ahead.

[barleyo]

Your requests are open... you've put the words "Corrupt Cop Daichi" in my brain... Imagine you're just like. Driving on the highway and you're not even speeding but somehow he knows what you look like so he pulls you over because you're a cutie patootie... Dubious consent follows... Daichi in a cop uniform... Reader bent over the backseat of the cop car, door open, fully visible from the road but not caring because CoP dAiChI? AHHhhhhHH? (Idek if this counts as corrupt but cop daichi is cop daichi you know)

It's 9:30 in the morning but it's never too early for Cop Daichi argargargargargarg

Mr. Officer.

Cop! Daichi Sawamura X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: CORRUPT COP DAICHI IS MY EVERYTHING!!! Ugh dirty nasty cops who abuse their power :3 I wanted to make him mean, but my sweet, sweet Daichi could never be mean to a pretty girl... he still gets crazy with power though!

Tags: power play/imbalance, alcohol mention, small age gap (18—23), dub-con, p in v, quickies, coercion n all that good stuff :3

Wordcount: 900-ish

God, you were lucky that you were pretty, because you certainly weren't smart or slick. Daichi knew college kids were stupid, always doing risky stuff for the hell of it, but really? You were too drunk to walk in a straight line, let alone to be behind the wheel of a vehicle. 

He couldn't help but feel the pang of interest he felt when he got a good look at you after pulling you over. With the way you were driving, he was certain you'd be a blind old lady, but no. Just a college cutie. Damn it, it was hard to be stern with those. 

"Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked, trite words second nature to him by now. 

If you googled the definition of the word "wasted," your face in that moment would be the illustration accompanying it. 

Your face was red and warmed, no doubt tinted by all the cheap liquor you threw back at whatever frat party you came from. Eyes lazy and half-lidded. Hiccups and inconsolable giggles.

"No," you said, drunken euphoria flooding through your system. "I'm sorry, Mr. Problem, is there an officer?"

"Jesus Christ."

Daichi pinched the bridge of his nose, not entirely sure what to do with you. On one hand, it was his job to take you into the station, take your name down, and rat on you to your parents. Maybe scare you straight with a few nights in a holding cell.

On the other, well, you were a sweet little thing. Drunk and stupid as you may have been, he didn't have the heart to haul you away like a criminal. Girls with pretty faces aren't meant for life behind bars, even if only for a couple of hours. 

"C'mon, let's get you out of here. Step out of the vehicle, please," he ordered weakly, still conflicted. 

You complied, of course, stepping out and stumbling, falling forward. He caught you, letting you hold onto his forearms during your spell of dizziness. 

You stayed in his arms, drunkenly fiddling with the walkie talkie strapped to his shirt while you prattled off whined and pleas.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked while running a hand over his arms. "You're not gonna be a 'cop' about this whole thing, are you?"

He held back a snort, peering down at you. He made no effort to get you off of him, in fact, he rather liked the way you were feeling up on him. His nightly patrol was getting a little boring, and he usually had to deal with violent, dumb-as-hell college guys who drove drunk.

Cute, touchy, drunk, dumb-as-hell college girls were the easier route by far.

"Kinda my job, hon," he replied, struggling to keep a stern tone. "How much did you have to drink tonight?"

"Nothing, I swear," you slurred, shaking your head at him in defense. "Totally sober! Promise!"

Bullshit.

"Yeah, right. 'Nothing' meaning every drink handed to you, I assume?"

"Okay, maybe, but I can drive fine!"

"You almost served into a tree earlier," he deadpanned, placing his hands on your shoulders with an unamused look. 

You giggled right in his face, pressing your warm face against his chest. 

"You're funny."

What the hell was he supposed to do with you now?!

Once he clicked his bodycam off, he knew he was going to give in. He was only a man, and men are weak. Something about you, how easily the situation was playing out— it was too tempting. It almost felt like a set-up, or maybe that was just his guilt and paranoia acting up.

He wasn't alone in this, his buddies in the force pulled sly shit like this all the time. No harm, no foul, right? You get off scot-free and he gets a little something in return. 

Everyone's happy. 

You definitely sounded happy, squeals and moans falling from your mouth while he bent you over the hood of your car. 

He knew he was wrong for this. He didn't care. It was dark out, chances of someone catching him low. Besides, it was hard to focus on anything other than the wet, warm hole clenching over him. 

"Lower your volume," he warned, pace unsteady and sharp. The hand he had wrapped over one of your thighs tightened its grip, warning you. "You want someone to see you like this?"

He could see the back of your head shake 'no,' and could hear your moans start to muffle themselves with a bite of your bottom lip. 

"Awh, didn't mean t'shut you up," his voice was softer, hand running over your hip apologetically. "Lemme hear you, jus' don't get too loud."

He was already sloppy with how he was fucking you, but when he heard the pathetic cry that you let out, his body was inconsolable. He wasn't in control anymore, he just let himself be led by pure lust. 

He pressed a shaking hand on your lower back, deepening your arch for him. He bullied your cervix's tip, acutely aware of how sensitive it was. This was far deeper than any guy had ever reached for you, way deeper. 

An intense flush of pleasure ran over you while you came. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the risk of it all, or maybe just the hot officer doing it to you, but your orgasm felt much stronger than you had felt any other time. The feeling of his cum landing on your ass and the sound of his deep groans were just the cherry on top of it all. 

[takemetothemoon-fics]

Perfectly safe

Title: Perfectly safe

Pairing: Killian Jones x reader

Word count: 863

Warnings: alcohol

Tags: Fluff, a loooot of flirting

Synopsis: Reader get's really drunk, and needs Hook to take care of her.

A/N: I am quite braindead so forgive me if I make some mistakes or anything in that direction.... Once again, enjoy reading :) btw, figured out the "keep reading" thing, so now it's not that long hihi

MASTERLIST

In the end, you are grateful in a way. If you wouldn't have gotten that shitfaced, you would never have met him

You are sitting in a tavern. It's late. You felt lonely, and since you didn't have a person to solve this problem with, you decided to use your only friend available. Alcohol.

He's sitting in a corner of a bar, with his crew. He's had a few ales, but is acceptably sober. He notices a person with y/h/c hair sitting at the bar, all by themself. He walks over to you, and from this angle, he can tell you've had one too many.

"Hello darling." He says, in a flirtatious way, trying to asses your state.

"Hello sir." your words are slurred. You look to the man who appeared next to you, not having a clue who he is.

"Are you alright, my lady?" He asks, his brow slightly raised, his voice deep and gentle. he can tell by the way you're staring at him, and your speech, that you've had too much to drink, but he's a gentleman, and you've drawn his attention with your beauty. He takes the opportunity to lean in closer to see the color of your eyes.

"I'm fiiiine"

"You are anything but, darling, let me escort you home"

"I do not," you hiccup, "need escorting home." you switch up the way you sit, showing him that you are fine, but the act does not last long.

"My, my, you're a feisty one, aren't you?" he says, letting out a chuckle. He takes a moment to observe you, a curious look on his face. You are quite the sight, that's for sure. He leans in a bit close to you, looking deep into your eyes. "The only thing you need to do, is trust me." he has a devilish smile on his face, and then he tries to take your hand.

You pull your hand back. "I do not need anything from you."

"Are you quite sure, my fair lady?" He says, his voice sweet, yet with a small edge of authority. "My offer is still open, if it is of your desire", He says in a seductive tone - one that would have a lesser person weak in the knees, so to speak, but you are much braver than the usual ladies he pursues.

"Leaaaveee" You push your hand out, in an attempt to push him away. You miss completely causing you to fall.

"Hm," He grunts as he catches you before you hit the ground. "That was most unladylike", He says teasingly, but with an air of seriousness. He lifts you up and holds you steady under the arms, letting you rest against his chest and begins moving towards the exit, assuming that his gentlemanly gesture had changed your mind. "We would not want to make a scene in this fine establishment, would we, my lady?"

You mumble something, but he can't make much out of it.

He notice how your breath is heavy, and the blush on your cheeks is rather intense. He gets curious. With a swift move, he puts you back on the stool you were sitting on. "May I ask what a beautiful lady like yourself is doing in a place like this, and all alone, at that?" He asks in a gentle voice, but his gaze is intense, and the slight edge in it makes it seem like he wants to know the genuine truth. It is almost as if he's a detective who has to figure someone out.

"That is-" Suddenly, you become aware of your surroundings. you notice people glancing at you and smile or snicker once they notice your current state. "I need to get out of here."

"As you wish, my lady", His voice is deep and smooth. "I'll take you away from this place. But, please, tell me, what's your name, lovely one?" he asks, taking an opportunity to move closer to you, as he wants to get his hands on your waist. You can feel the heat of his body as he stands this close, and it would be very hard for a woman not to be intrigued by such proximity.

"Y/N." you say shortly, trying to put an end to the conversation.

"y/n. A pretty name for a pretty damsel. Killian. Killian Jones." He says, as he lays his hand on his chest. "Is there somewhere you'd like to go that is more quiet?"

"I want to go home. Ssso tired."

"Then we shall", He says in a gentle voice, with a small smile. "I'll escort you home, my dear." He starts taking you to the door, and then, with some effort, he hails a carriage. He opens the door for you so that you can get in first.

"Please don't do anything bad to me. I am in no state to defend myself" you say, as you hiccup for the 1000th time.

"You will be perfectly safe", he says, a genuine, reassuring smile coming on his face as he enters the carriage with you. "I will be your escort and your protector through the night, and the nights to come…"

[zee-143]

♡Confess I loved you from the start♡

A/N: After pure procrastination, I finally wrote something. Now I have to get to the other members smh😭😭 idk I'll probably do Sunoo next. Also should I have a tag list? If so, tell me if you wanna be added!! Happy reading<33

Warnings: swearing lmao

Fluff☁⭐

Jake x Fem!Reader

If you see a mistake, no you didn't 🙂

ENHYPEN's Playlist

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

You loved Jake. More than you'd ever like to admit

Having known each other for so long, he was always your happy place. Almost everyone at uni believed your souls were bounded together. And others assumed you must be partners, right? Considering how Jake himself drapes his arms around you ever so casually or often gives you forehead kisses. You wouldn't call them wrong.This has been a thing for years. Although, it's only now you question why seeing his face makes your heart rate spike.

Jake rambles on about something that happened the previous day. You took a sip of your drink, slouching into the booth of your favorite little diner. You and Jake would always come here throughout high school. It was practically a second home. Most of the staff knew you both quite well too. The 80s inspired diner brought nothing but delicious meals and heartwarming memories. You couldn't really come here much due to university. So all these little moments meant the world.

"I need to ask you something" His words change the conversation completely. Now, you're actually paying attention. Not just admiring his face while his words only translated into 'blah blah blah's. "Something?" Your eyebrows raise. Jake's fingers tap against the table, his lips pressing together in thought. His mouth opened to speak but not a word came out.

"Take your time" You say. Your heart raced and a million thoughts jumped into your brain. Could he be confessing? Could he actually like me? Shit, is this even happening? You took another sip of your drink, trying to disguise your smile. Jake caught your gaze and sighed. "I-I want to ask Lexie to be my girlfriend" Jake blurts out.

"What? " your voice cracks

"Lexie. I want to ask her out" he repeats

You held back any sound that might indicate you're fucking hurt. Sure, you knew Jake liked Lexie. He's liked her ever since the first year of university. She's apart of the friend group and she's an absolute sweet heart. She has this natural beauty to her. Lexie is a close friend of yours but you still envy that she stole Jake's attention so easily.

"I know this is sudden" Jake said "But I really need your advice. Please? " He intertwined his fingers with yours and pouts. You don't say anything. You don't know what to say. The fact that he came to you for advice warmed your crushed heart. You tell him everything you believe Lexie would appreciate. You give him things to say or think about. You say this all with an aching soul. You wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn't with you

And just before you both leave the diner and go your seperate ways, Jake hugs you. He pulls you into the warmest hug you've ever felt. With joy, you hug him back. "You're the best, y/n" Jake pulls away, keeping his eyes on yours. "Thanks for always being so supportive"

You might be crazy but the way his eyes softened. His smile making an appearance more than usual. That pink dusted across his face─that you might as well be imagining. Delusional feelings only prompt you to think he feels exactly what you feel. Although, it can't be the case. Jake often talks about Lexie like she's the only girl on planet earth. You really can't let irrational thoughts take over like this. "No problem, Jake. I'm always happy to help" You respond, forcing a grin

♡

Your dorm room is a load of silence. Not even the sound of a bug could be heard. You lay on the sofa while looking up at the ceiling. Every thought seemed to be about Jake. You desperately tried to think of anything else. Food, laundry or cats? No point though as your heart continues to drag back to that special friend who would always stay a friend.

You couldn't just sit here and feel bad for yourself. You had to let Jake know. It's a secret you've been hiding for him. You both promised not to keep secrets like this. Especially for so long. It only felt right to go tell him. Let him know you're so in love with him it hurts.

You jump off your couch and rush towards the door. You lock the dorm room and storm out of the dorm building. For some odd reason, you forgot it was raining outside. Light rain though. Nothing to absolutely kill you. You think about going back to get an umbrella but you're already outside anyway. You don't have a car either as Jake always drives you around. Fuck it, we dash, you thought

And upon arriving at his place, you're basically drenched. That was the least of your problems though. You knocked on Jake's door then hear rustling from inside. A few moments pass before Jake pulls the door open, staring down at you. "Y/N? What are yo-"

You push yourself inside, hurriedly cutting him off. Jake shuts the front door with an eyebrow raise. "Aww. You didn't miss me already, did you? " He teased. You give him a vulnerable look before pouring out everything. "Jake. I know you like Lexie and you both would make an amazing couple. I-I just wanted to say that I love you! But if you wanna be with- uh- Lexie, then that's fine by me-"

"Woah. Calm down" Jake chuckles, pulling you into a warm embrace, simply ignoring how wet you are from the rain.

"Lex and I weren't going to work out anyway. She's kinda already taken" you hear him sigh. You silently thank your ancestors for that. Her already being taken makes things slightly more easier. Or maybe not because you did blatantly say you love him. Love. What a strong word. "Oh. That's unfortunate"

"Yeah" Jake rests his head on top of yours

"Glad to know you love me, baby"

You slap his arm and roll your eyes. Jake pulls away with a laugh. "Your confession, not mine! " He states. You try not to laugh while giving him a stern look. "I was just saying things" You shrug. Jake intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you close again. "To be honest with you" He takes a moment to pause before continuing "I don't really like Lexie. I only forced myself to like her because of you" His confession caught you off guard. You mask your shock with a smile. "Well, you had me convinced"

"Did I? " He frowns "I must have hurt you, huh? I-I wasn't sure if you'd ever feel the same. You're my best friend and I didn't want our relationship to feel uncomfortable because of some stupid crush-"

You cut him off, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. As you pull away, you notice how red his ears are. Jake blinks for a few moments before speaking again. "Y/N? " He smiles

"Jake?" you smile back

"Can I be your boyfriend? "

"Only if you let me be your girlfriend"

"Deal" Jake wraps his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss against your forehead. It was only then he realized how drenched you were. "Let's get you out of those clothes, yeah? " He suggests. You gasp before punching his arm. "That's so forward, Sim"

Jake winced, shaking his head. "Not like that! Your clothes are wet, dumbass. Don't want you catching a cold" He removes his arms from your waist, stepping back. You then realize what he meant, letting out an awkward chuckle. "Ah, sorry"

"Pervert" He jokes, pulling you towards his room. You were about to respond but thought against it. "I love you too by the way" Jake says with an affectionate tone. "Love you more" You replied

Despite this not being how you wanted your confession with him to go, you're glad it did. Knowing that Jake has loved you from the start. He loved you just as long as you loved him. It sparked a chain of happiness. You were ready to spend all your seconds with him. Each and every one<3

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[romana-after-dark]

You know who’d be very comforting and supportive of dolly? Beast. He’s a very gentle man and I think when dolly is having a panic attack whilst logan is away he’s somehow there and able to calm her down. He probably offers the best tea or hot chocolate for anyone.

🌗🌗moon anon

Our Gentle Sins Bonus Chapter: Hank and Dolly

Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Chapter summary: Past Hank McCoy offers guidance to Dolly. Present. Dolly should be doing better... why isn't she?

**********

Before

"Thank you so much, Dr. McCoy. i greatly appriciate the help. I promise, I know my stuff, it's just lesson planning for a group is so much different than for a handful of kids of different ages."

Hank McCoy lays out a large notebook on his desk in his office, careful not to knock over the tea he set out for you.

"It's not problem at all, you are taking these classes off my hands, after all. And please, call me Hank. Dr. McCoy makes me sound like I'm in Star Trek." You didn't get that joke.

You knew what Star Trek was, but never saw it, so you just smiled. "Unfortunately, it's a habit I just can't seem to break. I know Mr. Summers is put off by my formality as well."

"I'm sure it's a welcome change from Logan's nick names." Dr. McCoy chuckles softly. You didn't know who Logan was, but there were some people you had yet to meet. "You seem to be okay calling Remy by his name?"

Your smile broadens at that. "I guess you're right." Remy was different though. You couldn't imagine refering to that jovial man as "mr. lebeau". He'd probably laugh at the idea. Even using Mr. Wagner made the impish young man you met last week smirk a little, but he was too kind to say anything.

Dr. McCoy was also understanding of your... strange habits. "Well, whatever you're comfortable with."

"Thank you. You'll have to forgive me. My life before her was..." You shift uncomfortably. "Different. Difficult in a lot of ways" An understatement.

He nods. "I figured."

This makes you laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

"Not necessarily." he is quick to reassure you. "I'm sure you're aware there are... certain things that make you stand out." How you dress. How you do your hair. How you talk. How you are so painfully shy that at almost a month here you've only gotten to know Remy, and that was only by Remy's persistence. You knew people talked about you. You knew people talked about you, and that was okay. You were the weird new girl. It was nothing new to you. "Charles has a penchant for finding strays. I assume he didn't just pick out any non mutant to come into his school, be around his children. You'd have to be someone with extreme compassion and a deep desire to help people. People like that are have usually seen things."

And you had. God, you had. And because of that, you never wanted these students, these children who'd already suffered so much, to suffer more. You wanted to be someone for them that showed no, not all humans hated them.

You clear your throat, feeling a little emotional with the kindness that has been shown to you at this school. You go back to the lesson plans, where you would be taking over the English and literature department so Dr. McCoy could focus on the classes he actually preferred. "Thank you. Um, is this the freshman level English?"

After

"I'm sure it's here somewhere..." Dr. McCoy was searching through his bookshelf, trying to find a book you had asked to barrow.

"It's alright if you don't have it, Logan can take me to the bookstore-"

"No, no, no, I have it here... Ah!" His movements were quick, too quick for you as he reached behind you to the book shelf, right near your head.

You gasp, flinching away. The rest that happened was purely physical, unable to stop yourself as your legs gave out, dropping your knees as you try to cover your face. As you lay there, the silence hung heavy in the air, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You wait for pain that would never come. You knew it, deep down you knew Dr. McCoy was a gentle soul, but hadn't you thought that of Logan? You couldn't untangle yourself, bracing for pain or for him to force himself on you. Instead, all he did was kneel down.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you..."

But when you finally drop your hands from your face, you're having a panic attack. Hank clocks this immediately, carefully taking your hand in his and easing you from your knees to your bottom. he chastely pinches the edge of your skirt to cover your upper thighs, a move purely for your own dignity.

"Look at me, look at me. You're having a panic attack. I know it's scary, but there isn't anything wrong with you or your baby, you just need to breath through it. Breath with me, okay?"

Wide-eyes, you nod. You breath in when he squeezes your hand and breath out when he lets go. In. Out. In. Out.

Finally, when you calm down, you swallow hard and try to regain composer. You straighten your dress and tuck hair behind your ear, all while avoiding his eyes.

"I- I'm sorry sorry, I don't know what came over me..."

"Seems to me like PTSD."

Your eyes flash to him. "I don't have PTSD. If you're implying Logan hurt me-" you quickly realize your mistake when Dr. McCoys blue eyebrows pinch together.

"I didn't say anything about Logan."

Anxious again, you move to stand up, rejecting the hand he offered to help and using the bookshelves to brace yourself up. "Sorry. it's just... Mr. Summers has been on a smear campaign against my fiancé." I've just been on edge.

Nodding, he looks unconvinced. "I was hoping that now that you and Logan worked things out again, your mental health would improve."

"it has." What more did they want from you? You smiled again. You had more friends than just Remy now, you didn't spend all your time alone when Remy was out anymore! You had Logan, you had Ororo and Emma, you even had been getting to know Logan's very strange but very nice friend, Wade. You laughed and spent time in the sunshine now that the New England air was finally warming... Sure you were plagued with horrific nightmares, sure sudden movements sent you into panic attacks, sure you constantly fretted over you and your babies safety future and sometimes when Logan and you made love you had flashbacks to when he- but he was good to you. When you didn't want sex, he didn't force himself on you. He took care of you. he was the soft, gentle Logan you knew before... so why couldn't you trust it?

Clearly, he didn't believe you but he didn't wish to push you. "Come," He beckons you. "let's find Logan. You took a fall, we should get you checked out."

Telling Logan what happened, of course, lead to Logan shouting at Dr. McCoy for spooking you, and you quickly admonish him for speaking that way to a college who was nothing but kind. Logan's temper... You were fine, your baby was fine... but you couldn't help the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that it was all just slipping away...

***********

Thanks for the ask! i couldn't help myself and wrote a lil bonus chapter while im supossed to be writing a paper. oopsies!

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia @new-genesis1000 @teaganthemorningstarr @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight @nonamevenus

[tonkatsubowl]

false love v.

jing yuan x fem!reader

nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl). read at your own risk.

english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until…

TERM DIRECTORY

◖y/n: your name

◖e/c: eye color

◖h/c: hair color

◖l/n: last name

part one. ꕤ part two. ꕤ part three. ꕤ part four. ꕤ part six. ꕤ part seven.

➽ requested tags: @krowjet @beidousbubz @its-astrotea-love @5sos-wdw

ever since that incident had occurred, general jing yuan had decided to enforce security measures around the residential and city parts of xianzhou luofu. no woman should go through the terrors that you've been through, and never shall you ever suffer through those traumatizing events ever again.

the one thing that was definitely different though was how you stood up for yourself. you never once did, in fear that your father would scold you... or really, it was your brain that was so accustomed to fear, you were deathly afraid of standing up to it.

but you finally did. and you didn't know why—but the reason for it all was the man that stood in front of you several times, carrying a basket of fresh fruit and a small cutting knife in his free hand.

doctor's orders—you remained in the infirmary room for a couple of weeks now, and life had been strangely... well, unsurprisingly enough, peaceful. you were taken care of, and your husband had frequented the infirmary to visit you every day. he brought you a fresh plate of neatly cut fruit, some stories to tell, and he often brought mimi (sometimes the nurse hated how much she shed in the room) to purr and snuggle against you.

a day didn't pass without jing yuan visiting you, and you definitely expected his presence at least twice a day... or thrice, even.

...until today.

"huh? you're... you're going somewhere?" your eyes avert towards the general, confusion evident as he looked at you with his usual, loving and soft gaze. "where to? are... will you be busy?"

the marriage between you and jing yuan had definitely enabled some sort of separation anxiety behavior from you. he had always been by your side no matter what, especially during your days of recovering in the infirmary room.

"yes, y/n," he reached out to your countenance, his index finger brushing against your bangs, moving them behind your ear, "you will always be my priority. however, today must be different, for i must tend to my personal duties. i assure you that i will return safely, and the nurses will make sure that your needs are met during my absence."

...gone? was this a lie? a lie to get rid of you? no, no. stop, don't think like that. if he wanted to get rid of you, he would've done so already. you shake your head from your negative thoughts, fighting every bit of doubt and anxiety that plagued your mind.

"...okay." you nod, your gaze lowering to your bare hands, eyeing a piece of freshly cut strawberry in the palm of your hand, "please be safe... please come back home safely."

that was several hours ago.

to be specific, almost an entire day had passed since jing yuan left to his unknown expedition. for whatever reason, you didn't know. lieutenant yan qing wasn't around either, so you could only assume that his right hand man had accompanied him.

now, you were alone in your infirmary, sitting on your bed as you stared out into the moonlight. you could see the aurum alley from here, watching as the streets were bustling with joy, drunkards and happy children. you thought back to when jing yuan had taken you there, too. you had fun, up until you were abducted that same night.

nothing but your thoughts accompanied you, and you definitely were... tense. tense, anxious, nervous... and worried, even if you tried not to be worried.

you had missed jing yuan, and every time you had heard distant footsteps outside your door, you'd always expect and hope that it belonged to the military general. unfortunately, it wasn't exactly him, and it would be mere nurses who wandered around outside, even entering your room which gave you the false hope that your husband returned.

... but where did he go? he didn't tell you where, and wasn't being specific either. his personal... affairs? what did he mean by that?

you sighed silently to yourself as you got up from your bed, knowing you weren't supposed to be getting up. you grit your teeth, bearing through the pain as you wanted to know more information about his whereabouts... why he was being secretive. why he suddenly disappeared...

you knew you shouldn't be doing this but also... you missed the fresh breath of air. so you decided to sneak out, rip the medical monitor lines taped to your body and make your way outside whilst sneaking around the nurses and avoiding their gazes.

you were in pain, but you were losing your mind as you were stuck in that room for gods know how long? the moment you got out, you felt a fresh wave of freedom brushing over you... the same feeling where you left your home for the first time to move towards the sanctum.

you looked towards the sky, eyeing at the moon as it gazed upon you with his full glory, as though expecting you to return to it's brightening embrace. you inhale, taking in the fresh scent of air, missing the distant scent of herbal tea and nature that twirled within the air...

... ah, how you miss jing yuan. you wondered how he was doing...

"are you sure you want to do this?" yan qing frowned. "i mean, i'm not questioning your commands at all, sir. but it's just... do you suspect the l/n family is associated with the xianzhou black market of some kind?"

jing yuan nodded slowly. "notice the patterns of the past abductions. it's becoming quite obvious, even especially after what had happened with y/n. all women, all near her age, and all... hailing from troublesome families."

yan qing pondered for a moment, placing his knuckles underneath his chin as he closed his eyes.

"...general. what theories do you have then? for the reasoning of her abduction?"

"i'm assuming it'd have to do something with the disciples of sanctus medicus." jing yuan pursed his lips. "although, y/n's family did not have any history pertaining to... well, the cult itself. the father seemed too arrogant for any religious beliefs whatsoever, only wanting power."

"he didn't seem he was interested in eternal life, but money instead." yan qing added, looking towards the household that belonged to the l/n family.

it was a massive structure, built off of wealth itself. there were several floors to it, and each room was probably filled with a grand amount of fortune. both yan qing and jing yuan stood before the structure, with a singular cloud knight that stood behind the two.

"does miss y/n know... that we're here?" yan qing looked towards his leader, who responded with a shake of his head.

"i do not want her to be troubled by her family anymore... i doubt 'family' is a fitting term for what they are to her. i believe this part of her deserves to be torn away from who she is. after all, if these abductions are related to her father, then we might as well try to find evidence and stop them before something else occurs."

yan qing nodded. "yes, general."

the lieutenant glances back to the cloud knight, nodding towards him. "as we planned before, you will be coming with me. while the general speaks to the family."

the cloud knight saluted, "yes sir!"

when jing yuan, yan qing and the cloud knight entered the building, they were greeted by the servants of the l/n family. the head of the l/n family, y/n's father, had shown a false façade of a wonderful and kind father. he approaches the general, holding his hands with glee as yan qing and the cloud knight discreetly separated from the general, leaving him alone with the family.

"ah, general jing yuan! i am honored to see you again," y/n's father said as he held the man's hands, shaking them firmly, "why, i heard about the recent injury that my daughter has been inflicted by. that is such terrible news, i'm saddened by the fact i am unable to see my precious daughter, as i have been troubled by my work and..."

as he went off, jing yuan's kind smile never left him. he read through this man easily — what a liar.

"ah, it's alright that you can't visit her, my father," jing yuan speaks in a formal voice, bowing his head with his kind smile, "i understand your duties, for i am the general of xianzhou luofu, after all. i can relate to your priorities and the tasks you must face." jing yuan laughed with your father. "i apologize for showing up while you are busy with your tasks."

"oh, no no no! not at all," your father shook his head, "why, you actually came in perfect timing! i had prepared some lavender tea. my dearest wife had ordered some a while back and they actually came today."

jing yuan nodded. "i see. i would love to have some."

while jing yuan was occupied with your father, yan qing and the cloud knight were handling their own mission. they tracked down where the office was that belonged to your father while hiding from the wandering servants and your relatives before reaching to the door of the office. they entered, greeted by the smell of fresh, lavender tea.

"search his cabinets," yan qing said, "i'll search his desk."

"yes, sir."

yan qing proceeded make his way towards the office desk, looking through his paperwork. some of it wasn't even relevant to the mission as some paperwork was related to money, something about hiring new servants and...

"...?"

his eyes laid upon a letter that caught his eye, terms of it catching his attention immediately.

┈┈┈

...head of the l/n family. we will accept your beautiful daughter as a vessel to our beloved yaoshi. please do the following for us:

the vessel of yaoshi must be lifeless, unfortunately. yaoshi must not accompany a body with a soul already residing within. the body must be beheaded, or dead.

we look forward to your delivery,

disciples of the sanctus medicus.

┈┈┈

"lieutenant, sir! i have found something." the cloud knight speaks up, holding up several documents. each one were well hidden in between a bookshelf, and each one were labeled with "disciples of sanctus medicus".

yan qing pocketed the letter he found before approaching the cloud knight, grabbing the papers he held before looking towards his ally's discovery. more information about y/n... her weight, height, age, birthday... there was a look of disgust on yan qing's face as he pocketed it.

"... disgusting." he murmured. "we'll take these and report back to the general. let's leave, quickly."

"yes, sir!"

"it was so nice seeing you, jing yuan! please, visit us again." y/n's mother stated as she embraced her husband's arm, watching as the general waved goodbye, leaving on his own.

it didn't take long for the general to return to his headquarters, where he was greeted by the discovery of the connection of yaoshi's cult and y/n.

his hand was placed underneath his chin, eyes gazing upon each piece of evidence found.

"...sir." yan qing said to jing yuan. "you're hiding this from lady y/n... yes?"

"that is the plan. there is too much trauma she has already faced. we don't need to torment her more by bringing up her past... and its discoveries."

"even so," the lieutenant frowned, "i feel as if this is information that she needs to hear."

"...hm. for now, we hide this from her. later on when we arrest her father, we'll reveal the evidence and... tell her."

"yes, general."

[living-undead]

✦✧✦ Character Asks ✦✧✦

Thank you for the tag, bestie @elderwisp💜

✦ Which OC is the first at a movie theater opening night for a movie they've been excited for? ✦ She's a camper! Grey will pitch a tent for grand openings. Can't afford to cut corners on her midday naps but you're crazy if you think she's missing a grand opening! No misses, none at all.

✦ Which OC is the pickiest ✦ Pickiness doesn't even truly describe it, it's more of a "disgust" for anything even remotely different from her usual proclivities. If the price tag is under §1000 you might as well not even bother getting Zaria to try it.

✦ Which OC is the most stubborn? ✦ There's no changing their mind. You can't do it. You're better off trying to convince the paint on a brick wall to dry faster than trying to convince Morgan to change their mind.

✦ Which OC looks like a pushover, but could actually kick someone's butt? ✦ So much time spent hanging on Morgan's shoulder has seen Asra learn a lot of lessons in toughening up, though outwardly jubilant and carefree, she is responsible for many deaths. Many, many deaths.

✦ Which OC is most likely to excitedly talk about hobbies? ✦ Her laugh isn't the only thing that's infectious about Malady! There's nothing she'd rather do that yap your ear off about her favorite movies, books or pieces of art she's seen recently!

I shall tag...

@plasmadaze @sikoi @fallstaticexit @ruthplaysthesims @plumskiii

@pink-chevalier @nemesimulator @venriliz @salemssimblr @daniigh0ul

To all my peoples I've tagged, I love you 💜 If you don't feel like participating, that's fine, please ignore this

To all my peoples I have not tagged, I love you 💜 And if you feel like 'hey, I'd love to do this too!', please do so and assume I tagged ya anyways!

I hope you all have a wonderful day, night, afternoon, evening wherever you may be.