#But I couldn't get this image out of my head

[hypernova-writes]

MEDIC SMUTTTTTTT. Medic x Reader smut where Medic is just absolutely enamoured by Reader and wants to fuck her into an oblivion. :)

a/n: Of course you can!!

Obsessed. [Medic x Reader]

To be honest. If someone were to ask Medic when he started feeling the way that he felt about you. He would simply say it was since day one.

Never had he seen someone so beautiful, so amazing, so fiesty until his gaze landed on you.

He witnessed you just blitz through the enemy team one match because they insulted your teammates. The blood that stained your clothes, the way it splattered on your face had his heart going 90 mph.

After he healed you that match, he went into his office and tried to calm himself down. But he couldn't he kept seeing those images of you flash in his eyes.

"Fuck..Fuck..Why can't I get zhem out of my mind! Zhis is not professional!" He tried yelling to himsefl, but his mind was running laps already.

"Oh Luddy..Darling~" He could imagine you, sitting on his examination table, half dressed, ready for him to...examine you. You would beckon him forward...blood on your body, probably from your enemies.

"Come here...I need a doctors touch~" And he would come, all you would have to do is say his name in that little tone you would always do.

Oh the things he would do to you if you'd let him.

He'd want to feel your body up, caress and woship at it like it was an altar he was praying to, and you were the goddess that was going to brighten his world.

He wants to feel your thighs wrap around his head, bury his face in your cunt and have a taste of that pretty pussy of yours. He wanted- no needed to hear you moan for him, because of him. He craved it like a person needs air to breathe.

And oh god when he would think about your pussy, wrapped around his cock, he could feel a shiver go through his body. He could imagine how you would look under him as he fucked into you, taking you against every solid surface in the med bay. From his desk, to the examination table, the floor, his bed, against the wall, hell he'll fuck you standing up. He has the strength.

He just wanted to pump you full of his cum, he just wanted to see his cum dripping from your just so he could fuck it back in-

"Oh Doctor~! I need you for a second!"

Medic snapped back to reality when he realizes that you were standing in his lab. Covered in blood from the previous match, and wearing that damned smirk.

"Hmm? And vhat can I do for you taube?" He asked as he tried to gather himself, he turned his back to you, before he froze upon hearing your next words.

"I need a doctor's touch~"

-> Hi everyone! I'm just starting to put my Kofi and my throne at the end of fics now because of my home situation. [See this post for context] You do not have to donate! It's just something i wanted to start posting this on my fics.

-> Kofi - Throne.

[sasageyoarmin]

hellooooooo

can i request number 89 «YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING»from the dialogue prompt list for the lawyer armin series

love yaaa

hi love!! yes yes yes this is such a good prompt :)

for anyone wondering, this prompt is for my new lawyer!armin series and comes from this prompt list !!

<3

"i miss you <3."

The message on Armin's phone lit up, the sound of the iMessage notification ringing across the room, causing the attention to switch to the dirty blonde man for a second. He looked down at the message from "mi amor 💍" and opened up the conversation fully to reveal three images.

Armin's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the pictures, two of them depicting his wife fully naked in front of their bedroom mirror and one of the photos showcasing her silhouette against a blank wall, the light from their windows illuminating her figure, showing off her curves and full chest.

Armin cursed internally, immediately shutting off his phone, trying not to draw attention to himself, his cheeks flushed as he tried to concentrate on the meeting. He prayed to God that no one had seen the images of his wife, and he knew that he would have a talk with her later about when to send those kinds of pictures.

"Pardon me, guys, I have to step out for a moment." Armin stated to his colleagues, leaving the room with his phone in hand. Once outside of the firm, he opened his phone back up again, the pictures on full display. He admired the way his wife looked, shaking his head and scoffing as he thought about how naughty she was attempting to be. Slowly, he could feel himself getting riled up at the sight of his lover, so he closed out of messages and decided to ring her up instead of responding through text.

After the third ring, the call connected.

"Armin?" She asked, almost seeming confused. "I thought you were in a meeting, is everything okay?"

She was playing dumb. He wasn't a fan.

"I was in a meeting, yes." Armin's jaw clenched at how naive his wife was attempting to be. "Don't play dumb with me, baby."

"What do you mean?" She questioned. He could almost hear the smirk on the other side of the line, and he wasn't having any of it.

He scoffed, rubbing his brow. "You sent me nudes at work! I was in an important meeting, you know this."

"Did you not like them?" His wife pouted behind the screen, her legs rubbing against each other, wishing that her husband was home to pay attention to her.

"Obviously I did, that's why I'm calling you." Armin sounded annoyed, and she felt bad (but she didn't, really.) "I had to leave because of you."

"M'sorry."

"You're not sorry, you just want attention from me."

"I miss you." She admitted, twirling her fingers at the thought of Armin returning home to her later. "I didn't get to see you this morning, you know. You left without waking me up."

"I left because it was 7 am and I didn't want to disturb you. I told you last night that I would be home before dinner."

"That's too late, Min." He could tell over the phone that she was getting antsy and annoyed, her voice becoming higher and whinier. "I want you now, I woke up wanting you."

Armin cursed aloud, the word echoing into his phone, eliciting a soft whine from his wife. "I have to stay in this meeting, love. I'll see you when I get home."

"What am I supposed to do with myself?" She sighed out, whining as she shifted her hips on their bed, something Armin couldn't see. "I'm all alone."

"You can wait for me, right?"

"I don't want to, that's not fair." His wife sighed out, getting impatient.

"Life isn't fair, babe. You'll wait for me to come home. I'm not leaving work for this."

She sighed out, rubbing her thighs together at the thought of her husband getting annoyed at her in such a way. She smiled at the idea of working him up even more by letting him know what she would be doing while he was in his meeting. "Fine. I'll just go take a shower then, hmm?"

"God, baby, stop doing that."

"I'm not doing anything, Min."

"You know what you're doing. Don't send me these again today unless you want me to stay at work longer." His voice was strict, as if he was actually angry, yet she knew it was just a disguise so he wouldn't break under the pressure from his wife.

"M'kay, fine, you're boring. Go back to your meeting, babe, I love you."

"Love you too, I'll see you in a few hours."

"Take your time, Min! I'll just be here, wishing my fingers were yours." She hung up the phone, smirking as she realized how bothered she had just made her husband.

Armin stared at his phone in disbelief, the screen fading to black as he waited in the parking lot, trying not to think about his wife's pictures and what she was probably doing in that moment as he thanked God that he wore his larger slacks that day, as his physical issue wouldn't be as prominent when he walked back into the room.

Needless to say, he only stayed for two more hours at that meeting, after his wife had sent him an explicit audio recording.

<3

EEEEEEE i love lawyer!armin :)

pls pls pls lmk how you thought this was!!!!

i love you guyssssss

<3

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: End of the Line Gen 1 pt.87

3 hours later

Kason sat behind his desk with his head down. The fire had been put out and the workers had all been sent home for the day. The servo was destroyed and worst Rufus had been taken to the hospital. Kason called Mercury when they lifted Rufus into the ambulance and pulled off without him, claiming that he couldn't ride along because he wasn't family. Kiersten and M arrived at the hospital shortly after. Kason hoped to be there soon, he felt obligated to be with Kiersten, waiting for Rufus to wake up, but for now, he was needed at the office to square things away with the fire marshals and police.

When he'd spoken to M last the doctors had assessed Rufus's injuries. They ranged from 2nd-degree and minor 3rd-degree burns and a bump on the head. What they were most concerned about was the smoke in his lungs and the fact that he was still unconscious. The doctors put him into a medically induced coma in case he awoke and had injuries they were unaware of. Still, their top priority was to make sure his head injury was simply superficial and not something more severe.

Kason pushed the image of his friend's helpless body on the cold metal floor of Servo Hold 2. He had one more task to take care of and wouldn't leave without completing it. He took a deep breath as someone knocked twice followed by the door opening.

Kason: Come in.

Paris strutted in and stood in the center of the room. Following the incident, she'd refused medical attention, so when Kason dismissed the rest of the office for the day he'd asked her to stay behind for a while claiming he needed to get her statement for insurance purposes.

Paris: I've already told the police everything I know.

Kason: Have a seat Ms.Amyot.

Paris smiled as she sat down in one of the plush white chairs across from him.

Paris: Mmm, I like the way that sounds.

His insides twisted with disgust at her flirty tone. When he looked at her all he saw was her standing at the back of the crowd smiling as Rufus fought for his life. He forged forward fueled by his suspicion.

Kason: We need to talk about your performance up until this point.

Paris: Sure.

She shrugged, her tone suggesting she was bored as if the conversation didn't pertain to her. It was as If she'd forgotten she'd attacked Aria just hours earlier. She was aggrogant but he was about to cut her down to size.

Kason: Ms.Amyot, your work with the servos and other machines is okay at best. You miss about 40% of your deadlines and your attendance needs improvement.

Paris: Okay. Is that it? Is that really what you called me in here for or did you miss me while you were away, Kay?

He continued, ignoring her lastest failed attempts at seducing him.

Kason: You're rude to the clients and don't work well with the rest of the team. Computer Engineers and Mechanics alike.

The corners of her mouth dropped and she narrowed her eyes.

Paris: Excuse me. It's not my fault that your mechanics are babies and your computer techs are like teenage nerds.

Kason: You belittle and berate your co-workers. You make inappropriate advances and comments to your higher-ups and clients. Paris, I think it's safe to say you are the problem here.

She jumped up from her seat, he could see her mask of control slipping, but Paris was determined to regain the upper hand even if she had to play dirty.

Paris: So what! What are you going to do about it? Hmm. Keep me as an intern? Ha! Greg would never, my father will be sure of that. As for you, you're a nobody. Insignificant just like Madison, just like Rufus, just like your wife.

He clenched his fist at the mention of Rufus. Her hate for M was old news. But she'd never given Rufus a second glance previous to the company dinner party.

Kason: If I find out you had anything to do with what happened to Rufus. I promise you will regret the day you met me.

The threat seemed to get her attention and all traces of humor left her voice.

Paris: No one, makes me regret anything, Kay. No one.

Her lack of denial furthered his suspicion and deepened his hatred. He smiled knowing he would get the satisfaction of ruining her day as she had ruined so many others.

Kason: Well maybe this will make you regret coming to Brindelton Bay. Paris, Your fired.

Checkmate.

Her reaction was priceless.

Previous Next

Beginning

Poses: Josie Throwing in Anger

@ratboysims sitting and talking

[aro-absol]

[ID: A digital comic with a simple drawing style. It consists of long text that is accompanied by small drawings, matching what is said in the text. The text reads as follows: "I've always been a big reader. I was treating earlier and faster than most of my peers my whole childhood. [Three books: one is titled "Magic treehouse" and has the caption "kindergarten", one is titled "Harry Potter" and has the caption "first grade" and the last one is titled "Percy Jackson" and has the caption "third grade".] and my tastes have alwaystended towards the magical. fairytales, myths, and fantasy have been longtime favourites as far back as I can remember.

As I got older, my tastes didn't change all that much. They did expand, to being ok with things like horror, violence (and mild gore), death... As children's tastes tend to do. But I still loved fantasy stories just as much. When I hit eighth grade, however, they noticed a bit of a problem. I was getting a bit old for a lot of the middle-grade fiction books I liked. I thought: "Okay, sure! I've read adult-level books with no problem before, I'll just head for the fantasy section!" I asked a couple of friends for book recommendations, and culture reading except… [A drawing of many different scraps from books, all clearly from romantic and/or steamy scenes] ... All of it was just so stuffed with sex and romance. [A drawing of a person shaking their heads in disbelief and saying "ew" while reading the book, with an arrow pointing to them saying, "14 and very aro/ace"]

Needless to say, I did not want to read those books (and haven't to this day.) Thought bubble of the person just described continuing: okay, this is probably just my friend's stuff. I know they like these kinds of things. I'll just look for myself! [A drawing of a person standing in front of a big bookshelf that is labeled "young adult and teen fantasy". There are many different phrases pointing to the box on the shelf. The phrases read: "sex scene on the first page", "sex", "twilight", "romance "' subplot'", viscerally upsetting description of making out", "fade to black sex scene", "no sex but only technically", "sexy elves", essentially a romance really", "insane amounts of kissing".]... you gotta be kidding.

Over the years since then, I've tried to find fantasy stories that I can actually enjoy. [A drawing of a list titled "typically good". The bullet point read: D and D based (sex jokes but party focused), comics, fanfic, older media (pre-90s), MG fiction (last resort)] I've had some success at finding patterns that work for me, but a lot of these categories are very digital. (At least for me.) And because of that, all the time I once spent reading is now on my phone.

I don't really know where this is going, or what the solution is. Most people do like sex and romance, and reading about them. And this is just a thing for making a terrible comic day. I think it's pretty common for aro and/or ace people to feel left out, since so often these are treated as universal ideals. But to anyone feeling that way: I promise you are not alone. Also, allos: get better writing material, seriously. And better friends, since yours are apparently so terrible you can't write deeply meaningful relationships without kissing. (Half joking.) / End ID]

Note: this image description is not fully complete, as I left out some smaller drawings that I couldn't add into the text in a way that makes sense and weren't crucial for understanding. Also, I apologize if this description isn't clear to people who use screen readers but I do not know how to make it any better. If you have any suggestions, tell me please.

My (late) contribution for Make A Terrible Comic Day! I've been going to the library more often lately so this has been coming up a lot, cause I want something to read but have had trouble finding anything that I'm comfortable with.

If anyone has recommendations please please let me know because I am struggling.

[rispwr]

Hate you - chapter 5 - J.JK

Pairings : ex! Jungkook x ex! Reader

Notes : idc abt the word count anymore lmao. i will accept my fate that i could never get those number word counts lmfaoo. the drama is startinggg- oh hasn't it already began?

Genre : Ex2L, angst, slow burn, fake dating, slice of life, fluff, e2l, corporate rivals, smau, smut

Sypnosis : ‘You were always told that hating someone is the only way it doesn’t hurt but what if you can’t hate him? No matter how hard you try your heart will always find it’s way to his’

2 years after breaking up with your boyfriend of 2 years you were finally on your way to become the ceo of your family’s company your rival turns out to be your ex.

Contents/warnings :

Misunderstood break up, insecurities, mentions of self harms or mental health issues, jk is mean at the start, yelling, sensitive language or words, mentions of family trauma, corporate au, smart (both), mentions of yoongi x oc, mentions of cheating, soon to be ceo! Jk, soon to be ceo! Oc, oc is still named Y/n or {__}, corporate rivals?, fake dating, lack of communication, death of a character, mentions of suicide attempt. not proofread

series masterlist

again?

Jungkook's head pounded as he groggily sat up. He rubbed his temples, wincing at the dull ache. Glancing to the side, he noticed a glass of water and a couple of painkillers on the bedside table. Next to them was a note, its familiar handwriting tugging at his heartstrings.

"You should stop drinking and driving fast at midnight. It's bad for your liver and dangerous."

The note was pinned to a picture frame of the two of you, smiling. He traced his fingers over the image, a small, bittersweet smile forming on his lips.

it wasn't just a note. it was you. It was your concern, your voice, your heart. Even now, after everything. At least you were here, even if only for a moment.

He closed his eyes, letting the ache of longing settle in his chest. This—these fleeting moments—were all he could hold onto now.

Reaching for his phone, Jungkook unlocked it, scrolling through social media out of habit. His thumb stopped dead on the screen as a picture appeared: you and Yoongi, cuddled together on a couch. Your head rested on Yoongi's shoulder, his hand gently tangled in your hair as he smiled down at you. The caption was simple but cut deeper than any knife: "Home."

Jungkook clenched his jaw, biting his lip to stifle the wave of emotion surging within him. His fingers trembled as he stared at the photo, regret burning in his chest. That could've been him. No—it should've been him.

If only he had stayed.

But he hadn't. He had his reasons, though none of them felt valid now. He had convinced himself that leaving was the right thing to do. He hated the gnawing insecurity that whispered he'd never be enough for you, that you deserved more than the flawed, broken man he was. He thought he was doing you a favor by walking away, promising himself he'd come back when he was better, stronger—when he was perfect.

But perfection never came. Time passed, and so did his chances. Now, he was left with nothing but the crushing realization that he had only sabotaged himself. You had moved on, found someone who could give you the love and stability he always struggled to provide.

He let out a bitter laugh, though it carried no humor. He was too late.

Running a hand through his hair, he leaned back against the headboard, the phone slipping from his grip onto the bed. His mind was a storm of regrets and what-ifs, but none of them could change the reality staring back at him.

Jungkook's eyes drifted back to the note, his heart aching with a mixture of longing and acceptance. He'd lost you, but at least you were happy. That's all he had ever wanted for you, even if it meant watching from the sidelines as someone else gave you the love he couldn't.

But it didn't make it hurt any less. 

Jungkook stood up abruptly, his movements shaky yet determined. His eyes, red from tears and alcohol, found yours in the dim light. Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The embrace was warm yet suffocating, filled with desperation.

"Kook- what are you doing?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible against his chest.

"Let me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Just... let me hold you. For the last time."

His words hit you like a freight train. The 'last time' echoed in your mind, twisting something deep inside you. Hesitantly, you raised your arms, almost letting them encircle him, but before you could decide, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of the moment.

The vibration was loud, intrusive, and it broke the fragile bubble you and Jungkook had found yourselves in. You gently pushed against his chest, creating some distance.

"Wait," you mumbled, reaching for your phone. The screen lit up with Yoongi's name. Your heart sank further into the storm of emotions swirling within you.

"Hey, Y/N," Yoongi's familiar, comforting voice came through the line. "Where are you? It's getting late."

"Oh, um..." you stammered, your mind racing for an answer. "I'm at a restaurant right now, eating," you lied, hoping it didn't sound as strained as it felt.

"Really? Are you okay? You sound... different," he asked, concern lacing his tone.

You stole a glance at Jungkook, who was watching you closely, his gaze unreadable but intense. His jaw tightened at the mention of Yoongi's name, but he didn't say a word.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, forcing a nervous laugh. "I'm just tired. I'll, uh, see you soon, okay?"

"Are you sure?" Yoongi pressed, his worry evident.

"I'm sure," you said quickly. "I'll call you later. Gotta go!" Without waiting for his response, you ended the call, shoving your phone back into your pocket.

Jungkook took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching for yours. "Stay," he whispered, his voice raw and pleading. "i don't understand-"

You looked at him, your throat tightening. His expression was unlike anything you'd seen before—hopeful yet broken, desperate yet resigned.

"Kook..." you began, but you couldn't bring yourself to finish.

"Just this once," he said, his voice trembling. "Stay with me."

Your heart ached at the sight of him, but you knew you couldn't. You couldn't let yourself fall back into the same cycle of heartbreak and pain.

"I'm sorry," you said softly, tears pricking your eyes. Gently, you pulled your hand from his and took a step back.

Jungkook's head bowing as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. He didn't try to stop you this time. He just stood there, watching as you walked away.

As soon as you were out of sight, the tears you'd been holding back spilled over. You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs. You hated how much he still affected you, even after everything 

The Next Day

You run your hands through your hair as you waited in the sleek conference room. Today’s meeting was important. a potential collaboration with influential figures in the industry. Securing this deal would not only benefit your company but also solidify your position as a force to be reckoned with in the business world.

You twirled a strand of hair absentmindedly, your mind wandering to the memories of last night. The image of Jungkook’s tear-filled eyes and his broken voice pleading for you to stay was still fresh. Shaking your head, you focused on the present.

The first three representatives had already arrived, exchanging polite greetings and idle chatter as they settled into their seats. You greeted them with a warm smile, but a glance at your watch told you the meeting was running late.

“Where are the last two?” you muttered under your breath, turning to your assistant, who stood nearby.

“I apologize, ma’am,” they whispered. “I wasn’t informed there would be five guests instead of three until this morning.”

You sighed but nodded, waving them off. It wasn’t ideal, but you would manage.

The door opened, and your heart instantly lifted when you saw Yoongi walk in, dressed sharply in a tailored suit. his eyes meets yours, he gave you a subtle smile that sent a wave of reassurance through you..

Behind him came another man. one that made your breath hitch.

Jungkook.

He strode into the room, his black dress shirt perfectly fitted, his expression unreadable, like nothing ever happened last night. His gaze swept across the room until it landed on you.

Your smile faltered, your lips parting slightly in shock as you stared at him. It was like the air had been sucked out of you.

He met your gaze briefly before looking away. He took the seat across from you, and it felt like all eyes were on you now.

Yoongi sat beside him, his expression neutral, though you noticed his jaw tighten for a moment. He glanced at you, his subtle nod urging you to refocus.

Clearing your throat, you forced a polite smile and looked at the group. “O-Okay. Let’s start, shall we?”

You gestured toward your assistant, who quickly connected the presentation slides.

The meeting room had finally emptied, leaving only you and Yoongi. As he adjusted his watch, he turned to you with a slightly apologetic smile.

“I’ve got to rush- urgent family dinner,” he explained, his tone regretful.

You nodded, understanding. “Okay! Tell them I said hi,” you replied with a genuine grin, waving as he turned to leave.

He raised a hand in acknowledgment without looking back, his quick steps taking him out of the building.

You gathered your things and began walking toward the elevator. As you rounded a corner, lost in thought, your heel caught on the edge of the carpet. A gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled forward, bracing for the hard impact of the floor.

But it never came.

Strong arms caught you mid-fall, steadying you. The familiar scent hit you before the voice did.

“You should be more careful, y’know?”

Your heart stopped.

The world seemed to freeze as your eyes darted upward, meeting the face you thought you’d left behind in your mind.

Jungkook.

The murmur of workers broke the moment.

“Isn’t that Ms. Kim and Mr. Jeon?” “Didn’t they break up?” “Are they back together?”

You glanced around, spotting several employees discreetly snapping pictures and whispering amongst themselves. The realization made your blood boil.

Quickly, you pulled away from Jungkook’s grasp, straightening your outfit as you shot him a glare.

His lips curled into an infuriating smirk. “No ‘thank you’?” he teased, his tone as casual as ever.

You rolled your eyes, your irritation boiling over. “Thank you,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Without waiting for his response, you spun on your heel and walked away, your pace hurried as you headed toward the nearest restroom. 

aglist : @crazyovayou @minghaosimp @pitchblack0309 @kpopsmutty69 @junecat18 @primadonnasdream @minimoniminimoni @7lilacpetals @vonvi-blog @jk97bam @kissyfacekoo @baechugff @chuberry22 @nerdycheol @etaernaluvv @kooloveys comment if you wanna join

[nyx-knacks-writes]

Be More Careful, Okay?

Based off of @princeloww's idea of Alec and Campbell being uncle and nephew. I think Alec is a tad out of character here, but I saw this prompt by @prompt-dealer and had an image of Campbell being chased by an angry Alec, and I couldn't resist. No spoilers for either Broadchurch or Takin' Over the Asylum, and none for princeloww's The Never-Ending Sky, either. This is just my little idea of something that could occur if Campbell were to end up in Alec's care. I take zero credit for the idea of Campbell and Alec living together and zero credit for the prompt.

“I’m too young to die!”

“Young ain’t got nothin’ to do with it!”

Alec chased Campbell around the house, literally around the outside of the house, yelling obscenities and threatening—well, Campbell didn’t exactly know what he was threatening, but chances were high that it wasn’t good. Nature of a threat, after all.

Truth be told, Alec also didn’t know what he was threatening. He’d figure that out later. However, he did know that Campbell was in deep trouble. Trouble so deep that he wasn’t exactly sure how to punish the boy. Especially given that Campbell wasn’t even his son. So round and round they went, both yelling and trying not to slip on wet grass that would surely yank their feet out from under them at the first opportunity, causing an impromptu meeting with the cold, wet, muddy ground. 

The first offense had been the shirts. Campbell had had good intentions, really. He’d come home early from school on Monday, seen that the bathroom laundry hamper was full, and decided he’d do a load of washing to help his uncle. What a lovely nephew he was, right? Right? Wrong. Despite his best efforts to sort the colored clothing from the whites and the darks, he’d missed a pair of socks. A pair of red socks. A pair of brand-new red socks the exact color of a freshly washed fire engine gleaming in the summer sun. The shirts had come out pink. Oops. When Alec finally got to see the result of his nephew’s good intentions, he’d simply sighed and shaken his head. No sense in getting mad. He could probably do with some new shirts anyway. He’d donate the pink ones to a charity shop in town. Yeah, yeah, “real men wear pink” and all that, but what was he supposed to do? Like it or not, pink was still very much thought of as a feminine color. He could only imagine the abuse he’d suffer at the hands of his coworkers if he came in wearing a pink shirt. Big, bad DI Hardy in pink? Unthinkable. So he’d donated the old shirts, added a shopping trip to his weekend plans, and obtained the new white shirts that he preferred. A little hit to the wallet, but ultimately, no lasting harm done.

The second offense had been the soup. After the Sandbrook case had finally been solved and closed, Miller had insisted Alec start taking better care of himself and get a hobby. So what did he choose but learning to cook, which would satisfy both her demands? Ever the efficient one, wasn’t he? However, some dishes required a couple of extra hands for the sake of timing, so he would recruit Daisy and/or Campbell, depending on the day and on who was around, to help him out in the kitchen. On Tuesday, he’d needed both of them. It was going to be pumpkin soup for dinner that night, since it had been so cold and rainy, and Alec had asked Campbell to add the cream, nutmeg, salt, and pepper to the pot while he began pureeing vegetables a few cups at a time and Daisy helped him to avoid overloading the food processor. Four teaspoons of nutmeg would do it. However, when Alec caught sight of the little container of nutmeg on the counter after putting the soup back onto the stove to simmer, there was no teaspoon in sight. Instead, there was a tablespoon with a suspicious coating of brown powder sitting only an inch or so away.

“Campbell,” he’d asked slowly, “how much nutmeg did ye put in the soup?”

“Four tablespoons,” Campbell answered, looking up from the knife he was washing. “Why?”

Alec cursed, cut the gas, and put the soup pot on the stove’s back burner.

“Nutmeg is poisonous in high quantities,” he said. “The recipe called for four teaspoons, not tablespoons. If we eat that, we’ll end up in hospital.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, debating on chastising Campbell versus just letting it go. ‘Try to read it a bit more carefully next time, aye?” he eventually said as Campbell made a point to look anywhere else but at his uncle’s eyes. “Anyone have suggestions for dinner tonight? Looks like we’ll be doing takeaway.”

The next day, Campbell really did wind up in the hospital. Not for ignoring his uncle’s warning about the soup, but instead for a skateboard accident. It had been something of an impulse buy on Campbell’s part, and while he was getting to be rather good when it was dry, he’d not yet practiced when it was wet. He’d missed the bus to school in the morning, pondered what to do, and instead of calling a friend or his uncle or even Ellie Miller, he’d decided that the best possible way to rectify this problem was to attempt to skateboard to school and ask to leave the board in the office until the end of the day. He’d load up his backpack, throw on a rain jacket, hop on the board, and sail off into the morning light, perfectly balanced and confident that as long as he was careful, nothing would go wrong. 

What actually happened was that he rolled out with all his things, made it about halfway to the building, hydroplaned on a small hill, and ate dirt. Great. One ambulance ride, a thorough wound-washing, a chunk of chin and six stitches later, he was sitting in a hospital bed as Alec chewed him out for being irresponsible and not just calling for help or walking to school instead of getting on a set of wheels that had not been properly tested for mildly inclement weather. Not that he could be too hard on the boy. His intentions (get to school without inconveniencing anyone) had been good, and the fall, given its consequences, had really been punishment enough for poor Campbell. He looked like he’d expected a bowl of cherries and gotten a cherry bomb instead: a little confused and a lot regretful. Like he was contemplating the choices in his life that had brought him to this moment. 

Thursday had been blessedly normal. No blood, no pink shirts, no ruined meals. Normal ride to school, normal day, normal ride home. He didn’t even have homework for once in his school career! Maybe he was in the clear! Maybe his little bad-luck streak was over!

And then on Friday he inadvertently dyed his uncle’s hair a bright teal. What he wanted to do was put a teal streak in his own hair. It had been something he’d been thinking about for a while, and after having such a rough week, he figured that it wouldn’t hurt to try. He’d spent the afternoon in and out of the bathroom, making sure he was doing it right and not dying the whole house at the same time, and it had come out beautifully! Not a drop anywhere but in his hair, nice clean stripe, absolutely gorgeous. His one mistake? Leaving the bottle in the shower. When he’d gone to rinse out the excess dye, he’d taken the bottle into the shower with him to check the instructions for how to properly care for the freshly dyed hair. When he was all set, he’d left it there. And what did his poor, unsuspecting uncle do when he went to wash his hair later that night? He grabbed the dye bottle instead of the shampoo. And what did he see when his hair finally dried? Bright teal. Everywhere. All over his head. No missing it. Thus leading to the lovely game of ring-around-the-house. It was a little childish, yeah, but Campbell hadn’t been sure what his uncle was going to do with him when the newly teal-headed man had stormed into the living room with murder in his eyes. The options had been limited, so Campbell chose to run. 

Uncle and nephew made the oval at least four times over, pushing Alec’s pacemaker to the limit, before Alec finally stopped seeing red and had the bright idea to simply wait for Campbell to come back around again. He snagged at his nephew’s hood when the opportunity presented itself and pulled the boy against his chest. 

“Campbell, I . . . why?” Alec asked helplessly, wind going out of his sails. “I know ye���ve had a tough time adjusting here, but why?”

“I didnae mean to!” Campbell squawked. “I left the dye in the shower by accident, I swear!”

“I know ye didnae mean to, I’m asking ye why ye haven’t been more careful! Two out of the last five days ye’ve injured or nearly killed yerself, an’ I just want to know why!”

Alec stopped for a moment, released a breath, and let it go. 

“Look, I know ye’re not happy to be here. I know nothing’s the same and ye’re not even with yer mum and da anymore. I’m worried about ye. Please, just . . . I need ye to be more careful. That’s all. That’s why I’m upset. Now please, let’s stop these Looney Tunes shenanigans an’ go back inside. It’s too cold an’ wet to be out at this time of night.”

Campbell stopped to consider that for a moment, and Alec realized what he’d said. However, the apology wasn’t halfway out of his mouth before Campbell cracked a grin.

“But I am a looney.” 

“Campbell—”

“How can ye expect me no’ to engage in Looney Tunes shenanigans when I am, in fact, a looney?”

“Campbell—”

“In fact, you ought to be thankful that I don’t engage in more Looney Tunes shenanigans just to spite ye! In fact—!”

“Campbell!”

The boy in question stopped talking, but his grin didn’t fade even a little.

“Yes?”

“Inside. Please.”

And so, the pair trooped to the door in silence, neither sure what to say to the other until Campbell paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll be more careful,” he promised. “I didnae mean to worry ye, really. I’ve just had an unlucky couple of days. I’m fine.”

“Really fine?”

“Aye, really fine.”

“And ye know ye can ask fer help any time?”

“Aye.”

“And—”

“Yes, yes, come on, let’s go inside! I haven’t eaten since lunch, an’ dinner won’t cook itself. What are we makin’ tonight?”

[mellowwillowy]

Content: Eldritch horror bs, subtle yandere, GN reader

You didn't mean to get yourself involved with a serial killer. You didn't mean to enter his unlocked hotel room. You didn't mean to catch him strangling that woman.

But one thing you really mean was pleading for him to spare your life. You'd feign ignorance if it meant he'd let you go. And he did let you go under the condition that you must never turn down his messages and calls. The two of you exchanged phone numbers with the woman choking for air while you trembled until your teeth gnawed on your mouth. The two of you were under his mercy and only one survived the night.

He ushered the drunk you out of his room, giving you one last wink. You immediately ran to the room next to his and placed your ear on the wall, the alcohol didn't hinder you from hearing the woman's groans. You couldn't have heard anything because of how thick the wall was and even if you did, you would only think of it as a loud sexual moans.

But you could hear it clearly now. The nails scratching the carpeted walls and digging inside his wrists, the gagged mouth, the frantic breathing, and the image of the woman's scared face flashed into your brain clearly for a split second.

You jumped away from the wall and hid yourself under the blanket. Was it the alcohol and drugs taking a toll on you? You squeezed your eyes tight and counted back from 100, wishing it was just a fleeting nightmare or hallucination from the narcotics.

But it wasn't. You saw the recently added contact in your phone. 'Nyarla'.

It wasn't hard at all to remember his appearance. You remembered his one-pointed fang the most.

Suddenly your phone vibrated and it showed a text from Nyarla.

'Finally awake? Make sure to check out before 2 PM.'

You looked at your surroundings, frantically searching for any sort of cameras in the room, and found nothing. There was nothing yet the room felt so cold and damp. It felt like the room was suffocating you. Your stomach churned and you rushed to the toilet, throwing up last night's remnants. Alcohol, narcotics, and guilt. You should have called the hotel staffs or the authorities.

Another text came in,

'Didn't you promise me to always reply to my messages?'

You frantically texted him back. The conversation went on until a hotel staff rang your room's doorbell. They were here for clean up. And judging from their direction, they should have cleaned the crime scene next to you. Your phone buzzed but you paid no mind to it.

You swallowed before asking the staff in a hushed, low voice, catching their attention from their phone.

"Have you by any chance cleaned the room next to me?"

The staff cocked their head to the side and glanced at it.

"Yes."

Even though you couldn't see their face properly because of their head cap and face mask, you found their golden gaze eerie. Their focus returned to their phone again and you wiped the sweat that was on your chin. Another buzz.

You paid no mind to it and asked the staff one more time,

"... has the guest next door checked out?"

Another buzz.

"I think you should check your phone, it won't stop vibrating."

You wished you could walk out of the room right now if not for the cart and them blocking your way. They showed you their phone's screen, a conversation with your name on it. They sent another text and your phone buzzed.

"Going back against your promise now?" They took off their face mask and you could see the pointed fang.

Nyarla has sent you three messages.

Just before you could make a hasty escape from him, something caught your ankle and it slammed you back inside the room. You thought you would break your tailbone but it was awfully kind of him to slam you gently on the bed.

Slam...? You peeked at the thing restraining your ankle and it was a black, liquidlike thing with eyes all over it.

You looked back at him, now dressed in the suit you saw last night.

"I suppose new things like you always need a bit of teaching to understand just how heavy the word 'promise' is."

The moment you blinked your eyes, you were already somewhere else. The bed was cold ground and the only source of light was his golden eyes. The eyes on his limbs.

"I juuuust loooooove new things like you, so fun to be played with, like a chew toy."

Apparently, this weird handsome man found you worthy of his attention and time instead of having you shredded into his dinner.

[impala124]

I feel like I gotta let you talk about why you like Vegas now bc I had so little to say!

Vegas belongs to the list of fictional men I would never introduce to someone new. Like, if they get him, it's well and good, and if they don't, that too is fine. So Shan, I get having very little to say about Vegas.

I also understand not being that into Kinnporsche. Other than the fact that it was beautifully shot, my only reasons for sticking around (initially) were my beloved Tankhun and the rivalry between Kinn and Vegas. Kinnporsche, for all its faults as a series, not having a coherent plot being one of them 🤷, gave us very interesting characters and inter-personal dynamics.

How I feel about this character

I love him. Don't get me wrong, he is not a good person, nor does he pretend to be one. He is not a reformed person who will only do good deeds post-canon.

My (not so healthy) reasons for liking Vegas boil down to

His self-loathing tendencies

His filial piety towards his father, however undeserved it might be

His competence at being the head of a mafia family

Thinking about post-canon Vegas is so interesting because everything he thought he wanted out of his life is gone—his father is dead, Porsche is now the head of the minor family, and he has Pete, a romantic partner in ways he never imagined he could/would.

So, his character arc isn't complete; he has to figure out who he is as a person outside of his rivalry with Kinn.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Only Pete!! I couldn't subject anyone else to be on the receiving end of my little manipulator's romantic affections, lol.

And people say that romance is dead!!! One of my reasons for shipping them together is the evitability of their relationship. It didn't happen because someone was pulling the strings behind a curtain or because one person had an agenda while pursuing the other. It's about seeing yourself in the other person and understanding them. In short, they match each other's freaks.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Let's be honest, all of us wondered where Vegas and Porsche would go after the bike ride scene.

Love Vegas and Macau's relationship. There is a lot of love there and an instinct to protect him from their father's abuse. Love me a good protective older sibling ❤️

My unpopular opinion about this character

I wasn't active on this site when the show was airing, so I don't know if these are unpopular opinions. But, I do see a lot of fics depicting Kinn and Vegas as being almost friendly towards each other post-canon, and I'm like, how? I don't know; I just can't see that happening in a million years. Also, Vegas as a father? I know that this happens in the books, which I haven't read and never plan on reading. He has a long way to go before even thinking about fatherhood, and I don't believe he is someone who aspires to be one. So, yeah, I can't reconcile the image of Vegas as a father with the Vegas in my head.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish we got to see him wearing more red, because he is a fucking vision.

I also wish we got more of Tankhun and Vegas. I could see them fighting over Pete a lot. Also, hours of footage of him just cooking, for my indulgence.

Give me a character ask game

[viaviavie]

a painted white rose, still so red | extra blurbs for future exploration (?)

warning: book 7 spoilers under the cut, injuries, attempted murder(?), angst galore

I'll get the fluffier stuff out of the way before the angst hits you under the cut. SOOOOO, Ace definitely kissed you once last minute before the ending of a time loop. There were definitely some loops where Ace figures out his dreaming ability a lot faster, and handles the grief a lot better. In those loops, he's definitely found assurances in knowing that he'll probably see you again in the next loop. He has left a kiss once before the events of Book 7, and the moment he saw that his feelings were reciprocated, he cannot help but feel sad that he's going to forget about this experience.

Ace did get a few nicer daydreams of you. Preferably, he prefers the dreams where it's you and him going on dates, holding hands, or the ones where he manages to protect you. In some timelines, he reacts very badly to them and avoids you for days because he can't get those intimate images out of his head. In other loops, he's quickly makes peace with it and appreciates those images for what they were.

The other First Years get so spooked when Ace starts saying random stuff about you that a normal friend couldn't possibly know. Ace, how the hell did you know that the Prefect doesn't like sleeping near the window because it's dusty? You've never even been Ramshackle before! Grim claims that Ace is a major stalker for knowing your favorite snack, your hobbies, or those little quirks of yours that he seemed to grown accustomed to long before he met you.

Discarded concept: I considered a concept where Yuu's injuries are visible based on how they died in previous time loops. Rather than just having dreams, only Ace sees a new injury. Sometimes they are well hidden, like the briar thorns that had wrapped around your limbs or the snake bites that were easily covered up in bandages or sleeves. Sometimes, they are not so easily hidden, much like that mark on your face caused by Riddle's hand or the way your neck is covered in dry scales due to Leona's magic. You never really catch on that Ace could see them, he never says anything about it, even when you show up one day with burn marks after a bad dream regarding Book 7.

Ace dreams very frequently about Book 7. Based on deduction and observation of his dreams, Ace deduces that your chances of surviving the first six overblots are likely. However, Malleus keeps showing up in his dreams and each time he does, Ace's hope dies a bit more. The prefect is always falling asleep in those bad endings, and it gets to a point where Ace is often on edge whenever Malleus is around. The fact that Ace cannot even see beyond Malleus' overblot, which makes him want to try everything to get you as far away from Malleus as possible. It doesn't work, and it changes nothing, much to his despair.

On a darker note, Ace has considered killing the prefect out of mercy. It has been attempted in one or two time loops, but it never really happens. Ace never dreams about snuffing out the prefect's life himself, and it just shows how much he dreads losing them. I imagine it's an angsty scene where he's about to throw hands when the prefect insists on going to Lilia's farewell party, but he falters. He scolds and gets angry at the prefect for caring so much, and it kills him when you still insist to go when you have failed enough times.

Ratio-wise, the prefect in this fic had to restart at least 100 times. 45% of those deaths were due to the other six overblots, while the rest were simply because you couldn't wake up from Malleus' unique magic.

My biggest angst hitter; We are hit with that little twist that the Prefect was aware that Ace could foresee the bad endings. The Prefect did try to confront Ace about it in previous timelines, but all it did was fuel his paranoia and protectiveness to the point that he died himself in front of them. Ace never gets dreams where he dies, only the loops where the Prefect does. You never mention a word about his abilities after that incident.

Which poses the question; if Ace can only foresee the bad ends where the Prefect dies, were there any other bad ends where the Prefect had to see him, or their friends die? (possible sequel fic :0)

Ugh but the concept is so sad, even worse than this one. The Prefect probably had to force bad endings to occur if any of their friends perished first, just so that they can do things 'correctly'. Poor prefect, they must be so tired.

Overall, I found that Ace's dreams are more of a living hell for him. It's rather ironic that for all that he dreamt, he gets put to sleep by Malleus and dreams again. I do wanna explore what this implies for Ace's personal dreams while under Malleus' spell.

[journeysfable]

"Every legend starts somewhere. Why not with you?" "Because it didn't."

Thornghost my beloved

[thetomorrowshow]

i ran out of space

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[idkwhyyouaskingm3-blog]

[Error] hopping the train gate to avoid paying its fair

[mage-ical-character-person]

I'm sure he's fine. After all, one of his core features is his adaptability.

Unrelated, but he'd like to know what traits you look for in a friend.

[tiredspacedragon]

Hello. I am here to inflict you with my thoughts on how each Ga-Toa exits the water.

Gali: Incapable of leaving the water normally. Always bursts out with a leap or does a flip or scales a cliff on her way out. She'd never admit it, but it's her way of showing off. Water runs seamlessly off her armour and she always seems to be as dry as she wishes to be just a few steps from the shore.

Nokama: Canonically does the Hollywood-style sexy water exit. I don't make the rules. (As a Hordika she absolutely shook the water off herself like a dog though. Got it everywhere, including all over Gaaki)

Hahli: Steps out smoothly and lightly shakes the water off herself. As a Toa Mahri her fins flutter as she does it, and it's quite the pretty sight. (In contrast to her brothers, who always trudge out of the water looking miserable)

Gaaki: Carries herself to shore with a small wave and lands with a few jogging steps. She lamented the loss of this graceful exit while a Rahaga but learned to approximate it with natural waves from studying semi-aquatic Rahi.

Naho: Hoists herself out of the water and rarely misses the opportunity to have fun with it. A favourite game of hers is to use her mask power to turn invisible, leaving the water droplets clinging to her armour appearing as though they are hanging in the air in her rough shape, like some sort of moisture ghost. She has also been known to use her powers to pull the water off herself while retaining her shape, then have the water-Naho follow her around while she pantomimes conversations with it. She finds this hilarious. Her teammates find it kind of bizarre.

Tuyet: Creates a rising swell in her path as she emerges. Upon exiting the water, she uses her mask power to become intangible and just dumps all the water covering her at once, then continues on.

Helryx: Hasn't swam in years. Her old Toa body is still capable of it, but is a little too frail for that kind of extended athleticism anymore. If she needs to cross a body of water, she either goes by boat, or the water gets out of the way.

[shushmal]

Steve notices when Eddie disappears from the party, almost immediately. Robin and the others are crossfaded and a little weepy, and Steve knows they're excited—and scared. They're all heading out next week, Robin to Chicago, Nancy to New York, Jonathan to California. So they didn't notice it, when Eddie got up for the bathroom and didn't come back.

Steve did. Steve's pretty good at recognizing stuff like that, especially when it's painfully familiar.

He's pretty loud when he crawls through his own bedroom window out onto the roof, loud enough that Eddie startles and drops his cigarette onto the asphalt shingles.

"H-Hey!" he says, all false cheer despite the croak in his voice and the sniffling—the way he wipes quickly at his face.

"Hey," Steve says, going for softness and compassion. God knows he's spent many a night out here crying by himself. He doesn't want Eddie to think he's being a dick about it. "You okay?"

"Yep!" Eddie says, pitched too high and the words crack between his lips. "Totally fine! I'll come down in a bit so—"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Eddie's teeth clack together when he shuts his mouth, falling into silence as Steve settles down at his side. Neither of them say anything. Faintly, they can hear the murmur of their friends' voices, mixed with the summer night call of forest frogs and bugs. Steve thinks about chasing fireflies in the back yard when he was little, how the dark woods are near impenetrable to Steve now, the boyhood security long stripped from him.

Beside him, Eddie wipes at his face again, his elbow brushing Steve's arm because Steve's sat himself so close. Steve, carefully not thinking about it, leans over—further and further—until his head hits Eddie's shoulder.

The sound Eddie makes is soft and broken, so Steve tucks himself even closer into Eddie's side, arm going around his back, and closes his eyes just so he could overwhelm himself with the warmth radiating from Eddie, the smell of soap and sweat and weed, the feel of Eddie's hair on his head when Eddie bows his head as he cries, hair long and curtaining the two of them—Eddie keeping Steve, pulling him in to witness his private grief.