#Day 16 Prompt

[lostalioth]

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

→ premise: you knew steve loved when you called him sir, how the honorific rolled off your tongue and lit a fire in the pit of his stomach. so maybe it wasn’t the best idea to call him sir in a mocking tone on a mission.

→ pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, sir kink, edging, fingering, mention of spanking, nicknames [princess, little one]

→ a/n: kinktober 16

Steve spent the whole ride back from the mission keeping a death grip on your thigh and facing forward with a deadpan stare. He wasn't per say mad at you but you knew you were in for it when you made it back to the base.

You had called him sir in a tone dripping with sarcasm and an eye roll when he gave you an order during the mission. The honorific wasn't new to you or Steve, it was something you learned about your boyfriend in the bedroom, he loved it when you called him sir. It wasn't a name he was called when he was a leader everyone just always called him cap.

So to hear it roll off your tongue in the middle of a mission in an almost mocking manner has his insides turning, cause it still sent that throb down through his cock.

He wasn't as mad that you said it in front of the others as he was with the way you said it. Yes because of the tone you got a laugh out of Tony in response but Steve didn't find it as amusing.

And that was how you ended up spread out on Steve’s bed, your thighs spread to accommodate your boyfriend's large frame between them. A stinging pain still lingering on your ass cheeks from the beginning half of your punishment, his rough palm. The latter half of your punishment was being relentlessly edged, Steve not allowing you to come no matter how many times you apologize sweetly and desperately. His long fingers were currently buried deep inside you curling upwards to hit that blissful spot deep inside you. That spot that has you squirming and crying out for release when he pulls them back right as your body tenses up and your orgasm is building, making you whine out at the loss of pleasure.

“Sir… pleasee ive been s’good i just need to cum, i promise i wont do it again” you whimper out, trying to grind your hips down on his fingers and fuck yourself on them or get him to move them. “See now i don't think you have, little one” he lightly shakes his head before he grabs ahold of your hip with his free hand. His fingers slowly pull out further making you let out a pathetic whine thinking he was stopping all together. But before you can protest or beg him not to, his fingers plunge inside you in a sharp thrust that has your head spinning. “Ahh~ Sir…pleasee m’gonna cum, wanna cum s’bad” you whine and mumble out, the hour or so of edging that has been going on has begun to make an ache settle in your core and not the good kind.

His fingers curl up again as they pound into you making your vision go blurry, your head spinning as your orgasm builds, growing more and more getting ready to crash into you. The sound of his chuckle rings in your ears and as fast as he pushes them in, Steve pulls his fingers back, not out but they stop their asslut of your g-spot. Your climax comes crashing down instead of over you, the building feelings dissipating in your stomach, your hips bucking and squirming.

“Sirrr pleasee it hurtss, neeed to cum” you cry out, your eyes screwing shut in slight pain as well as frustration.

”You wanted to be a little brat during the mission princess, this is all on you” he explains as his fingers slowly begin moving again though the switch in pace only has small gasps leaving your lips, your orgasm still far far away.

“I'm not done with you just yet, you gotta deal with the consequences to your actions little one” he cooed, leaning down to leave a small peck to your mouth before his free hands rubbed across your thighs that were starting to burn from being spread so wide for so long.

Steve had a long night planned ahead for you, though he did intend on letting you cum soon. He wouldn't be done even after that with you though, he was extremely worked up the entire ride back home. That three letter honorific does something to him he can't explain and he never wanted to hear you say it on a mission again. It's way too hard for him to keep his hands to himself when you do.

→ a/n: this is short, not proofread and kinda shit as im trying to rush to get back on track so maybe ill finish kinktober this year, i have hopefully one more post to do today, then just the last day which will either be posted on halloween or after after if im busy.

[inflomora-art]

Steddie Mermay! 1/16

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Ninjavember Days 13- 17 -19

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Sixteenth Day of Gift-Giving

Sixteen Sinful Sentences

"Oh, is that how you like it?"

"You are such a tease!"

"No touching right now. That comes later."

"Think you can handle that?"

"You're so very tempting..."

"How do you like that?"

"I don't think you've had enough already."

"Someone should punish you for that."

"You can be a bit rougher if you want."

"I want you to be louder, my love."

"Please, mark me."

"Tell me exactly what you want."

"I want to make you mine."

"Yes, please keep doing that."

"The night's definitely not over yet."

"I believe I could make you do it."

24 Days of Gift-Giving

[veinsfullofstars]

🌱 Kirbtober 2024 Day 16: Overgrown 🌱

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Kirby - sporting the Leaf Copy Ability - with a Leafan and a Bulby, happily hovering together in a white void, surrounded by sparkling green leaves. END ID.)

Previous Day | Next Day | Prompt List (made by @/paintpanic)

Started and finished on 09/23/24. | Kirbtober 2023 Comp

[narsh-poptarts]

Chasing Comets

[serickswrites]

Not Qualified

Warnings: blood, wounds, gunshot wound, bleeding, hospital reference

The pounding on the door had Villain jumping. They had been fully prepared to settle in for a quiet night alone. They needed it. It had been a rough week at work and they wanted time to process and blow off steam. The door pounded again. Who could possibly be beating on their door?

Villain opened the door and frowned. Hero leaned on their door frame, one hand draped across a bleeding gunshot wound in their gut, the other braced against the door for support. "H-Hey, V-Villain."

"What do you want?" Villain felt like this could be a trap. It had to be a trap. Why else would Hero be here if not to hurt them?

"I.....I need some help."

"And I'm the person you come to? That's rich," Villain said coldly. This was definitely a trap.

Hero's face fell. They blinked heavily. "I.....I h-h-had n-n-no onnnnnnee el-el-else."

"That's not good." Villain still didn't move to admit Hero into their home. This could still be a trap. But as Hero leaned more and more on the threshold without lashing out, Villain began to suspect that Hero was telling the truth.

"Y-Yeah," Hero said weakly.

Villain could see Hero's legs wobble as they tried to support themself. "Well, fuck. I am absolutely not qualified for this shit," they gestured at Hero's bloody wound. "But I know a place where they are very discreet and can help."

"TH-Th-Thanks," Hero mumbled.

Villain pulled Hero's arm over their shoulder. "Come on. Let's go get you patched up and you can tell me all about how you ended up on my doorstep bleeding from a gunshot wound in your guts."

"Th-Th-Thanks," Hero repeated as they stumbled along with Villain.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@artisticdemon

[sufrimientilia]

The Director

humiliation | dehumanization | conditioning @augusnippets Day 16

cw: medical/lab setting, subject whumpee, captivity, see above

The operating theater was dim and quiet, free of machines and stainless metal trays and the buzz of nurses poking at every part of him. Maybe that was a good sign.

Although the observation deck overhead was dimly lit up as well. That definitely wasn’t.

He had been forced into some cushy padded chair. The researcher fussing over him was a vaguely familiar and unwelcome face by now, and most of the time she didn’t even bother speaking directly to him. “Director. I have been looking forward to showing you the progress we’ve made with this study. I think you’ll be… quite impressed.”

She was squeaky today, talking up to one big reflective wall. Like she had something to prove.

He pulled at his restraints. “Really chose your star student for this one, huh?”

“You’re aware of my efforts to achieve a state of neuroplasticity for our behavioral conditioning program,” the researcher continued unfettered, propping a halo-shaped machine right over his head. “Through exhaustive trials, I’ve finally achieved an inducible state of docility and submission. Each brain reacts so differently, but we are particularly proud of Subject 3B-167. He has taken to the induction very well.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” He started fighting even harder. The padded cuffs always had such a distinct way of cutting into his wrists and ankles, raw and ragged even under layers of gauze. “I haven’t taken to shit! All you do is drug me and cut me open and act like a fuckin’ cu—”

The machine gave one shrill little tone and lit up with a ring of blue light. Every part of him locked up like it was electricity, a single lightning strike through every muscle, clenching and stretching his skin gaunt. It lasted only as long as the beep, and then he just went slack— limp and lifeless, eyes glazed, mouth dropping open under the blue haze.

“Initial findings are promising: we’re seeing a consistent reduction in resistance, with the subject entering a compliant state in under three seconds.” She flicked her fingers in front of his eyes. He didn’t even twitch. “His reactivity varies, but most cognitive faculties are effectively shut down.”

She flicked off the blue light. The subject jerked and shuddered hard, blinking like it was just an odd muscle spasm. And then he kept on fighting without skipping another beat, not realizing the gap in his efforts. “—cunt! You stupid cunt! What are you trying to—ghh-”

The light flicked on and he slumped under its glow. She pushed his head back against the headrest. “I’ve tested this across various states of consciousness, but the results are especially intriguing when the subject is under duress. It seems the stress amplifies the effectiveness of the trigger. We can achieve total behavioral suppression.”

She dimmed the light until it turned off. This time he took longer to snap out of it, blinking hard before pulling in a sharp breath. He exchanged her observant stare with a confused one before finally lifting his head. He looked around. “What… What the hell’s going on?”

“Repeated therapies make the subject highly suggestible and seems to affect memory retention. He doesn’t even remember most of the procedures.” She sounded amused here. “Each reset wipes the slate clean.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, lady?”

The blue ring. His pupils blew wide. His neck kept landing at an uncomfortable, awkward angle, and the researcher shoved his head back before he could drool all over himself. “His defiance is only a facade now. Gone in an instant.”

When the light shut off, it took a long moment for him to regain his bearings. His brow hardened— frustration, maybe, like everything was too slow to follow. “Why ‘m I…” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He glared up at the researcher. “Just get it over with or lemme go, why are y—”

The blue light flicked on. Every part of him surrendered to the misty glow, eyes rolling upwards to give the halo a blank stare. “It feels good to obey,” the researcher said, following the same compliance protocols. “Resistance fades; obedience remains.”

Next time the light turned off, he barely woke up. He stayed slumped against the padded chair, dazed and confused, blinking owlishly at the dark ring hovering above him. “What ‘re you… doing…”

“Subject 3B-167. Follow my finger closely.” His gaze tracked a slow horizontal. Up and down. “Very good. Noted for compliance.”

“Wha’?” He weakly pulled at the restraints. “Mm not, n’no…”

A twilight haze of blue. His gaze roamed along the arc of it, enraptured and lost, paralyzed all over by the usual mantras. A subject’s identity is in their obedience. Obedience is his natural state. He exists to obey. Obey, obey, obey.

Eventually, the light dimmed all the way and the subject was still a drooling mess. He didn’t snap out of it, not even with enough prodding and pushing. He just mumbled out an incoherent string of sound and stared at the empty ring.

“From here we would move on to hypnotic conditioning. I find the subjects tend to be incredibly receptive in this state,” the researcher said, standing proudly next to her mindless subject like he was some pretty prototype. “My next phase will involve refining the protocols to ensure long-term compliance without the need for constant reinforcement. It will take time, but we're on a good track."

The microphone from the other side of the glass finally sparked to life, and it was with the greatest approval to be had from The Director: “Keep going. I want to see more.”

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Sixteen: Aaron Hotchner + Dirty Dancing

The shoes and clothes are stuffed away in a box in the garage. Your life is diffierent now, there's no need for the six-inch heels or the lace like outfits when you're now a mom of two beuatiful kids.

Every now and again you think about your past, how Aaron had met you. The lap dance that had turned into your talking more about your past, and where you wanted your future to go.

It was nice then just as it is now to talk to Aaron about the things that make it hard to go to bed at night. The kids are off at school, Aarons off at work, and well you're a stay at mom.

You tidy up, keep the house warm and light all, make dinners (Which Aaron tells you that you don't have to do). Tonight you're thinking of following his words. You pull the box down from the top of the shelf in the garage. Slipping the garage door close as you breath in.

The walk up to your bedroom is quiet. The alexa in the kitchen isn't loud enough to make it upstiars and into your bedroom. The box isn't heavy by any means, but the weight that it holds is immense. The black heels and the sparkly clothes is what catch your eye first.

Among other clothes. Like a red lacy set of bra and panites, mesh tights that you remember leaving imprints on your skin. It all comes flooding back, that night you met Aaron is so burned into your memories that it's hard not to want to recreate it again.

A plan is set and you can't help but grow excited. The afternoon you go pick up your kids from school, asking them all sorts of questions about what they learned and how they liked what you packed them for lunch. A few hours later your darling husband comes home.

Drops his bag by the door, and comes over to you first. Kissing your cheek sweetly before giving each kid a hug. Your heart beats faster as the night goes on. all through dinner which was take out by a good mexican resturant not far from you.

A good movie on the tv that has your two children giggling and then falling asleep without a single peep.

Aaron takes your son, lifting him up and into his arms. "I got her baby." He says sweetly to you as you go to lift your daughter up into your arms. You hum, and nod. Before following him up the stairs.

You press a sweet kiss to your sons head, before rushing into your room while Aaron gets your daughter up to bed. The rush to get into the bra, and panites with matching garter belt as you feeling a few years younger.

You don't except Aaron to come to bed just yet, he's got work and always leaves that for after you, and your children go to bed at night. So you quielty walk to his office. The light on the desk is on, giving the room an earthy mood. A perfect mood you might add, you as crawl on all fours to the side of Aarons desk.

When he turns to look at you, his jaw draps and thers something behind those pretty brown eyes. "What are you doing?" He asks leaning back into the leather desk chair. "I found some old things in the garage today." You answer.

"Hmm I can see." He swallows hard, his adam bobs in his throat and his bottom lips turns a little red between his teeth. "What are you looking for, sir?" You say in sultry voice, a smirk planted on that beautiful face of yours.

A quick quirk of Aarons brow and he pushes the chair back even further. "How about you come up here into my lap and show me what you go babygirl!" You don't remember it going this way the first time, but the way your body grows with heat inbetween your legs and your heart beats a bit louder, and a bit faster in your chest as you loving every fucking minute of walking into the garage this morning.

"There are rules here." You say to your husband as you sit in his lap. "Hmm like what darling?" He asks playing along with you. "Theres no touching the merchandise." You giggle a little inwardly of course, but the groan of frustatrion is so gratifiting that leaves Aarons mouth.

"Do I get to fuck the merchandise at least?" He asks, maybe after two kids you think he'd look at your differently, but he doesn't. You hum, and think about it for a second grinding yourself into his tight slacks.

"I think that can be arranged for the right price of course." You mutter when you press your lips into his. Sealing whatever game you've started.

Completed on: 10/19/24

Posted on: 10/20/24

Kinktober 24'-

[snakebites-and-ink]

Augusnippets Day 16: Humiliation / Dehumanisation / Conditioning

CW: Conditioned whumpee, pet whump, willing recapture

“Whumpee,” Whumper greeted warmly.

Whumpee was a pitiful sight, looking all pleading and nervous on their doorstep. “Can…can I come in?”

“Of course. Finally had enough, have you?”

Whumpee gave a short nod as they came inside. “But…please, I just want to ask one thing.”

Of course, Whumper had expected Whumpee would need something from them in order to come crawling back here. They’d play along. “What is it, sweet?”

“Please, just don’t hurt Caretaker.”

Not the kind of question they expected. Whumper blinked, but recovered too quickly to give Whumpee a chance to doubt. “Alright. If that’s what my pet needs from me, I won’t do a thing to harm them.”

And with that all the nervousness bled out of them. “Thank you, Master.” Whumpee cuddled up to Whumper, fearfulness making way for the doting, sweet pet Whumper had trained them to be.

 Whumper hadn’t known the conditioning held out so well even through Whumpee’s time with Caretaker. They looked down at Whumpee, pleased, and wrapped an arm around them in return. “Was the only thing keeping you from coming back to me that you were worried about Caretaker?”

Whumpee nodded and hugged into them.

“Gosh, you’re so sweet.” Whumper stroked Whumpee’s hair lovingly. All theirs. Even in Whumpee’s mind. Whumper’d had no reason to worry. “Nothing to worry about, pet. I’ll leave them be. For you.”

Sequel :)

[kanaeink]

🤘 Rock n Roll Zoroark! 🤘

DAY 16 @inktober : Grungy 🎸 My concept for this piece was Rock Grungy music 🎶 I have never drawn a guitar before 😂 anywho, super happy with this!! 🖤

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— flufftober (day 16) —

Warnings: fluff, dad!bucky (he’s a warning), sexual tension, a bit of sad!Bucky, pregnancy

Prompt: Fireplace

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

@flufftober || flufftober masterlist

A/N: these are going to be veryyy late submissions. but it’s not my fault writer’s block hit me now. i mean kinda but not really. i’ll be posting these randomly here and there when inspiration comes. enjoy!

Bucky surveyed the living room with a small frown adorning his lips and a small twinkle in his eyes. His eyes trailed over the couches covered in crayons and papers before falling to the action figures and toys laying on the floor like casualties of a battlefield. The smell of chicken nuggets and fries lingered in the air, mixing in with the vanilla scented candle he had lit after the boys were sent to bed.

He heard you before he saw you, the telltale creak of the second step alerting him before you could remember it existed. He saw you step up beside him with a sigh and send a long glance at the pile of dishes in the sink. He smiled softly at the adoring smile that had somehow, in amidst of the chaotic closing of the night, appeared on your lips.

He nudged your shoulder with his. "Think we'll survive this?" He joked when you turned your head to look at him. The teasing tone in his voice made you giggle, lowly so that you didn't wake the sleeping boys.

"We always do, don't we?" You replied swiftly, looking at the family portrait you had managed to take last month at Disneyworld—a gift from Tony. You and Bucky were at the center, holding the one of two-year-old twins each, Grant & Thomas, while the four-year-old Grayson was held in the middle by Bucky. The smiles on each of their faces were adorable enough to have you slightly hazy with the memory.

With a huff, you looked at Bucky and said, "Let's split up."

"Toys or dishes?" Bucky raised his eyebrows and waited for your answer. You smirked and looked at the floor covered in Legos, action figures, and blocks.

"There's no way I can bend down for that long, Buck," you answered, placing your hand on your swollen belly. Bucky chuckled and nodded, a rare grin on his face that lit his face and flashed his dimples.

You two were done with kids—you really were done after having three boys—but you knew Bucky had wanted a girl. And you secretly did, too. Especially after seeing him with Morgan, you both starting trying again. It wasn't as if you weren't opposed to having another boy either—all three boys were such mama's boys that it made both you and Bucky all warm inside.

When you had brought that up, Bucky had laughed and kissed your concern away, adding in a simple, "If this one turns out anything like the boys when they grow up, I'll be more than happy. Boy or girl." That was the end of your worries. When you two learned that you were having a girl, it became apparent that Bucky's phrase third time's a charm turned out to be true.

"I'll get cleaning here then," Bucky said while reaching out to grab your hand and kiss your knuckles. "But you gotta promise me that you'll sit down if your feet hurt. And you—" his eyes flickering down and his metal hand coming to your stomach— "don't give your mama a hard time, 'kay?"

A soft kick landed on his hand and his smile widened. "I hope that was an 'okay, papa' and not a hard no," he teased with a wink at you.

"Yeah, okay. I promise." You smiled up at him and tilted your head as an invitation. He leaned in to peck your lips and then you two split up as planned.

He quickly gathered the bigger toys first, knowing he would trip over them or not see a Lego piece before it was too late. After dumping those to the side, he bent down and started piling the Legos together and then dumping them into its container. He fell back to sit on his butt after noticing that he had been balancing on his toes. He sat with his legs bent and elbows resting on his knees.

He had barely begun and he was already tired of cleaning up. He glanced around the couch to look at you. You were almost finished with the dishes, wearing an apron to reduce the water from staining your clothes. Well, they were his hoodie and sweatpants, but he was pretty sure you wore them more often than him. He never minded it, even if he complained about never having his clothes with a playful glare aimed at you.

Bucky got up and walked over to you silently, purposely missing the creaky board. He wrapped his arms around you, feeling you jump slightly in his arms before settling into his chest.

"Thought I told you to sit down if—"

"If my feet hurt," you cut in with a chuckle. "I know, but I'm okay right now. Promise." He hummed and pulled you closer to him. He kissed the curve of your neck and made his way up to the sensitive spot that made you squirm away.

"Hey," Bucky protested with a boyish smile. He tightened his arms around you with mind to the swell of your belly and the baby girl inside to keep you in place as he kissed that spot again.

"Bucky!" You squealed, but pressed your lips together the next moment with his little hush.

"The kids are sleeping," he murmured against your skin, causing a shiver to seep through your body. "Don't wanna be too loud—"

Your hiss made him pause and move away, suddenly scared that he had hurt you with his strength. It wouldn't be the first time that he had, but those times were under different circumstances and controlled. Just as he was moving away with his arms loosening around you, you grabbed his forearm and leaned back into his chest.

"Doll?" He whispered, afraid to speak. He swallowed when your breath hitched again.

"She's kicking my ribs again," you mumbled, eyes closing and head tilting onto his shoulder. He relaxed a little, wrapping his arms around you again, and slipped his hands under the hoodie to rub little circles into the soft skin. "She's strong, though. That much is obvious."

Bucky kissed your neck. "Just like her mama."

"Pretty sure it's that super-soldier serum."

"Don't drag my wife down." He bit your neck playfully. "You're the one who gave birth to our boys. We both know I'm not that strong."

"There's other complications with that, anyway," you remarked, relaxing when you realized that the kicking had ceased.

"Just take the compliment, doll." Bucky saw you smile and open your eyes, placing the last dish on the rack to dry and turning in his arms. You grinned and an idea sparked in his head. "What d'you say we turn tonight into a date night?"

"What?" You laughed slightly and placed your hands on his chest.

"Just—" Bucky let out a breath— "Just go sit down on the couch, the only one not covered in papers and crayons, and relax and wait for me to clean up. Then we can watch a movie with the fire going. What d'you say, huh?"

"I say," you started, moving your hands around his neck and tangling them between his locks, "it sounds like we'll be watching what I want to." Your eyes sparkled with amusement and mischief.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Sounds about right."

"Well, then, get ready to watch Scream."

You backed away and walked into the living room. You hopped over the toys still scattered with a smile and flopped down on the couch. Bucky followed you and grabbed the remote to pass to you before he started to clean up the remaining toys. He started the fireplace and watched it blaze for a second. Then he realized that the lights had been turned off.

"You ready, Jamie?"

Bucky sat down next to you. Your presence seemed to warm him more than the fireplace.

"'Course I am."

———

Taglist: @pinkposttragedy

add yourself to the taglist >here<

[oz-qwin]

Mariner May: Day 16 - Traders Market

Fairies don't like it when their food is "Stolen" or "Prolonged" from them.

Shadow was only trying to follow so that he could get Sonic the jewelry ( & I forgor her hair tuft in the last drawing TnT)

[lifethenegaverseandeverything]

[justanothersanjilover]

Day 16: Like cat and dog!

Wanted a vibe like the cute kitten and puppy on the top 😊

Here is the prompt list with the other drawings 😊

[0ne-eyed-ghost]

YOU'RE SUCH A BACKSTABBER!!!! OH GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU'RE SUCH A SHIT-TALKER!!!!!!!!!!! RUN YOUR MOUTH MORE THAN ANYONE I'VE EVER KNOWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! dayy 16 :] wdym i forgot 15 IM WORKING ON IT!!!!! harmonia's difficult 2 draw :boom: I KICK IT TO THE WINDD ill keep workin on it later, will prooobably be finished if i get motivation. we'll see ANYWAY BACKSTAB!!! oh nooo poor hear- SHUT UP!! SHUT UP HE DESERVES THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LET ME TORTURE MY FAVORITES!!!!!!!!!!! anyway! this ones right before uhm. heart gets his other ring :grin: shadows r hard to like....... make prominent on paper HOPEFULLY it conveys the idea well enough !!!! gosh i love the close up of soul so much i cooked a bit too hard :pray: SURPRSINGLY I DIDNT SMUDGE IT TOO BADLY ??? i was expecting more graphite all over my hands but that was not the case........ i was tempted to color the lines for the other two but soul takes up the MOST of this page and its so aggressively him in my eyes. so. he gets priority in the color . :grin: shout out to kesha's backstabber i saw this prompt n instantly though of that song but. erm! no room for lyrics only comic panel!!!!!! scatters ive got things 2 be workin on :sweat_drops: