#curly curls 😩

[kkanabel]

this person understands me on a spiritual level

"Captain curly is bad!" "Captain curly is innocent!"

Captain curly is boutta receive backshots from me

[dwightschrute11]

fancy schmancy

[bananasfosterparent]

OKAY BUT Efenity with 3C curls and partial cornrows 😩💜

[lesbianlenas]

got a haircut today and not only did the hairdresser ask me if i had a boyfriend (🤮) she started curling my hair for no reason and like 😭 i felt the shame of being feminized after ngl…..like i know curling your hair isn’t that feminine of an act but like…….i felt the exact same as i did when i was 6 after going to a makeup bday party and walking up to my family after & i felt so uncomfortable being feminized……..do i look cute yes but god at what cost……….

[vulpixelates]

god i desperately need to level up my art skills so i can draw horny pretty art of zaerellia being giant lesbians

[chrisisvbun]

Okay, now I need more Logan and Bunny!Girl 😩

a/n: ur wish is my command.

guilty as sin. logan howlett x bunny!femreader. part OO2.

a/n 2: btw I'm trying this new cute little layouts tell me if you like them:) i've been really inactive bcs of work shit and been really sick too, but im writing i swear

synopsis: After peace came to the mansion after your arrival, you did not have another encounter with Logan, so spending time with Ororo became a regular thing for you, although Logan doesn't seem to like it.

cw: PTSD related to prostitution and sex, depression, harrasment. a bit of ooc logan, mentions of sex.

words: 2.7k

first.

☆☆☆

You liked Logan.

Well, ‘like” is a pretty vague word, but that’s the one that fits better. You liked him. He was handsome, he was fun, he was sweet with you and you were comfortable around him. You liked that teasing game that you used to have with him, mostly he was bothering you until you slapped his shoulder while he laughed.

So, why wouldn’t you date him? He was clearly into you too

Oh, such a silly answer. You got shy.

Because of your nature you are almost forced to be shy, but you weren’t that shy, you were pretty extroverted when you had to, you didn’t really mind talking to people, and you were a teacher, so you had to be slightly extrovert to have that job.

But after that night in the kitchen, when Logan’s hands hugged your skin while taking you in the sweetest way, you couldn’t look him in the eye without getting red all over and shaking like a scared bunny before running away. Logan frowned everytime you would run away from him, but that didn’t stop him from looking at you when you gave classes and just roamed around you for the following months.

He was obsessed with you. He could watch you for ages, watch that white, curly, pretty hair of yours, how it fell through your back till your lower back, how your shirt was lifted by your puffy tail and how your ears bounced whenever you got surprised or scared. You were so pretty, so cute, and so perfect to corrupt.

He was a bad man, but for you, he would turn into a gentleman.

But you were avoiding him, but you weren’t alone, of course. You had Ororo, who was slowly turning into your best friend. Really slowly. After being abandoned by the one you thought was your best friend, it was hard to trust again. But Ororo was patient, kind, and really funny, hanging out with her had always left you tearing up and grabbing your belly because you would laugh so hard.

You liked spending time with her, but sometimes the activities she would like doing triggered you in some way.

The therapist said that it was normal that many memories are blocked to protect yourself, but that they could be expressed and manifested in certain ways. It wasn't a lie. The trauma was clearly very heavy, enough for you to forget most of the events. There were days where you didn't want to leave your room, the pain in your chest wouldn't let you move from the bed, and as soon as you tried, you would collapse on the floor next to the bed in desperate tears.

Ororo had insisted on having sleepovers together, but you refused. There was something about it that took you back to a deep, dark place, a room where the only thing you can hear are the echoes of suffering women, yours mixing with those of others. Sometimes, checking to make sure you were okay, Scott and Ororo would look into your room and see you curled up in a ball in the upper corner of the bed, uncomfortable, as if you needed it. A part of you didn't want to get better, it was easier not to know, to live in unconsciousness, but you knew that it was not healthy, that that life was not healthy.

That’s why you started to go clubbing with her, you had already gone two times, this one being the third one. Ororo was sitting next to you, applying a pale pink blush in your pale cheeks before putting some gloss in your lips.

“You are done, girl.” She stood up and passed you your gloss. 

“Thank you, love.” You smiled warmly. You grabbed your bag and began walking downstairs with her. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me call a cab.” Ororo grabbed her while speaking.

A little creek in the kitchen made you raise one of your ears.

“It’s me, bun, don’t worry.”

Fuck.

Out of all the people in the mansion. He had to show.

“Going out?” He crossed his big arms and leaned in the doorframe.

“Yeah! I’m taking her to a club that I know she’ll love.” Ororo smiled.

“ ‘Kay, I’ll drive you.” He said, patting his jeans to find his keys.

“It’s not necess-”

“God! Thank you, cab cost an arm and a leg.” Ororo huffed a laugh as you sighed. 

You were glad that the blush in your cheeks was dissimulated by your makeup.

You were sitting in the passenger seat, pretending to be on your phone as Ororo grabbed a coat she had forgotten upstairs. You wanted to kill her, she left you alone with him, gosh, wasn’t it obvious how nervous did you get around him? Maybe not, and she just enjoyed seeing you like that. Yeah, that was your best friend. And worse, he was smoking. Looking so hot and nonchalant.

Logan coughed a bit before looking at you, up and down, and huffed.

“What?” You dared to say, without looking at him.

He shook his head. “Nothin’, bub.”

“No, go ahead.” You left your mobile aside and crossed your arms.

Logan looked down to your chest covered in your black sleeveless corset and smiled.

“You look gorgeous, bunny.” He said, looking at the window and taking a puff from his cigar.

You closed your eyes shut, almost your whole body getting blushed at the compliment. Not pretty, not cute, not good. Gorgeous. He said that word.

“Thanks.” You mumbled shyly, your breath started to get a little worked up. He noticed, of course, and the sight made him smirk.

“I’m back!” Ororo got back in the backseat, and you exhaled like you had been holding your breath for years.

The ride was quiet to you, your mind was peacefully roaming around the lights on the road, even having Logan next to you. That until his hand went to rest on your bare thigh. God, he had to ruin your peace, of course.

His fingers moved to the inner part of your thigh, his palm resting on the front of it. His fingertips massaged your flesh gently, like he knew what he was doing, like he knew how wet you would get with that.

You finally got to the club, some loud music was muffled by the closed doors. You grabbed your jacket and your purse to get out of that freaking car, you could almost scent your own arousal by that moment.

“Wanna join us, Logan?” Ororo suggested.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Guess someone has to take care of you two.” He sighed and got out of the car.

Ororo slapped your shoulder a bit when Logan was away. “You'll thank me later.” and she left too.

You sighed and began to get out of the car too, starting to regret all of that.

“Gonna stick in the bar, you guys have fun.” He said, quickly getting in to go where he said.

“Well, I guess I won't have to thank you for anything.” You said, almost glad that he had left.

You started to get slightly happier and expectant for that night, you could have fun, you wouldn't get too drunk and maybe, if the music wasn't so good for dancing, you could seat and enjoy it. Yeah, a good night.

(...)

Everything you thought that wouldn't happen, happened. You were some long hours into the party, and music was great, surprisingly great. Not some weird music that teens just used as background sound to get drunk and high. Shakira, Britney Spears, Katy Perry, Madonna and Christina Aguilera were sounding all the time, and you couldn't feel happier. That until “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé started, you almost freaked out, and started screaming the lyrics with Ororo.

It was relevant that you were… drunk. Not in the clouds, just drunk enough to feel funny and energized to dance.

“All the single ladies, now put your hands up.” You sang with Ororo while lifting your hands.

Logan, as a totally mature man, he huffed. Single? Huh, if it were up to him, you'd be tied to the bed right now, and not in those shorts that hugged your butt beautifully and in a thin green tank top with thin sleeves. Between both garments he could see the edge of your baby blue underwear and that beautiful, round, adorable bunny tail.

God, you were beautiful, and he was disgusting, he couldn't take his eyes out of your ass and your tail and how you moved your hips smoothly in circles, almost provoking him. On those ‘whoa-oh-oh’ you would move your hips up to the left, up to the right, making your tail bounce.

Was this the karma of provoking you back in the car? Because it was working perfectly, he was hard as a rock.

‘Cause if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it.’

Oh, he was. If he saw one more man looking at you again, he was putting a fucking ring on your finger if that would make you stay at home with him.

In the blink of an eye, a man appeared behind you, you heard quietness when his disgusting fingers grabbed your buttcheek like he had the right too. The muscular memory to pull against it like you were taught to almost won, it didn't because you saw Ororo’s look in her eyes, a look of displeasure and anger.

Your body tensed at the realization of the situation, and that happening in a matter of seconds, your nails went to sink on his shoulder, only Logan's hand stopping you.

“We are going home.” He said, firmly grabbing your wrist.

You were in the passenger seat now. And you didn't really know how you got there, you supposed Logan had to push you there because you couldn't move, the ghost feeling of that stranger touch, that at the same time felt so familiar.

You were quiet, Ororo and Logan too, but their thoughts were louder than yours, you could almost hear what they were thinking.

Once he pulled over at the mansion, you slowly climbed off the car, putting on your jacket as you walked in. Logan frowns, worried, Ororo had just a concerned look on her eyes as they both follow you in.

You felt almost dizzy, desperate to reach your room, to go and shower, clean yourself up from the touch, from the nonconsensual hands that touched you recently and in the past. The feeling of a dirty touch in your clothes made you want to rip them away. You used to do that since your fur was warm enough for you, but now the feeling seems to have pierced your jeans and burned your clothes. 

You couldn’t hear Logan’s voice calling you, you just went upstairs and locked in your bedroom.

Logan sighed and looked down at Ororo when she spoke. “She just needs to rest, to think.” She began. “I’ve never seen you this worried.”

Logan shrugged. “Don’t know what’s she doin’ to me.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Whatever this shit is that i’m fucking feeling, feels like shit.”

“I know what it is.” She gave him a knowing grin. “And you know it too.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, confused, before opening his eyes widely in surprise. “What? I’m not in love with her, Ororo.”

She just chuckled and began heading to her room. “I’ve never said that.”

Fuck. He was one hundred and eighty years old and he fell for the same old trick. He was turning into a silly teen because of a goddamn bunny. 

But god, he knew you weren’t just that, you were the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen in his life, he was the one that got all drunk with you, all bunny-drunk.

He spent the night thinking about you, how were you, how did you feel, could he help you out on something, did you need anything, did you need him? Maybe he was acting like a teen but he couldn’t help it, he was so worried, his heart beated hard in his chest at the thought of you in the state in which he saw you when you came back. When dawn came, he got up like he had nine hours of sleep, when he had just had three, and walked through the mansion, hoping to take a glance at you, but nothing. You weren’t around, Ororo said that you were probably not even awake yet: you could sleep for half a day when one of your episodes hit.

Suddenly, you appeared. You had your curly white hair pinned up, your bunny ears held there too, your face gray of tiredness, wearing some wide black sweat pants and a black hoodie on top. His face lit up when his eyes met your tired figure, while slowly worrying about your state. He didn’t know what to say to you, he couldn’t do the usual ‘good morning��� because it was nearly lunchtime and it was clearly not a good morning.

“Made coffee for you.” He said as taking a sip of his beer, you looked at him with slight surprise. “It’s right there on the machine.”

You smiled gently but tired. “Thanks.”

You sat in front of him with your coffee, putting your feet in the wood base of the chair while quietly drinking as he read the newspaper. Something about the domesticity of the situation made you feel a lot better, his presence being like a bandage to your suffering. You looked up at him and gently smiled.

“You can go to rest more if you want, I’ll wake you up when lunch is ready.” He said, lifting his eyes from the paper.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” You said lower than usual. “Although I’ll love to take a nap on the couch.” You said, standing up and stretching.

Once you were on the couch, comfortably resting your head on the edge of the headboard, it didn't take long for Logan to go and sit besides you. He hovered his hands over your body until you gave him a gentle nod, telling him he could touch you. He moved your body so you were on your side, resting your head in the pillow, and he moved behind you to hug your waist in his hands, pulling you closer until you felt his warmth pressed against your back. He sank his nose in your neck, exhaling in relief when he finally got to have you in his arms, his hands caressed your soft fur up and down to get you relaxed.

"Wanna talk about it a bit?" He asked in such a comfortable, warm voice, you couldn't tell him no.

"I almost leaned in." You said. "It was like muscular memory, i got so... normal about harrassment, so used to it that... I almost leaned in."

Logan heard you, that's what you loved about him. He listened, all the time.

"I feel bad about it." You said, caressing his hands.

"Why is that?" He asked while gently pressing your flesh.

"I like the touch, the contact, the sex, the provocation." You said, your fingers started to play with his. "But not from anyone. If I would had the chance to choose, I would've wanted you to touch me."

Logan smiled in your neck and pressed his lips there, leaving a small trail of kisses. Nothing sexual, just loving kisses.

"I am touching you now." He started talkin in your neck. "You like my touch?"

You nodded. "When it's from you, I like it." He gave you a playful bite in your shoulder which made you giggle.

"Listen, bunny, this world is a shit. You went through hell, and of course that type of touch will make you go through it again. I don't want that pain in you, but I know I can't remove it." He gently flipped you around, accommodating a strand of your white hair out of your face. "I just want to be with you when you need me, to hold you, bun. I know that damn therapist told you that you can have your time alone when you need it, but..." He looked at your ruby eyes, his eyes softened and holding your cheek like you were porcelain. He longed for you, you could see that in his eyes: it wans't something casual to him. "...Whenever you need me, I'll make a fucking whole in the goddamn universe to go find yo-"

"I'm in love with you." You said like it was trapped in your throat. "I'm in love with you, Logan."

[usedtobecooler]

TRUE hate-fucking with Eddie. Him and trader despise each other.

yeeeeeees 😩

warnings: hate fucking, sink fucking, pussy slapping, face punching, anger

he’s fucking insufferable, you want to punch him in the mouth and wipe his stupid little smirk off of his face, embarrassment mixing with anger. he’d brushed past you, unravelled the tie on your apron as you collected glasses from the tables at the hideout. it’d fallen to the floor, tripping you up and sending you flying with the tray of glasses in your hand.

they clattered to the floor and you couldn’t even find it in you to fucking clean it up — storming to the bathroom to seethe whilst holding back tears. you’re an angry crier, always had been. he comes in after you, doesn’t look apologetic, just pouts all mocking and you do it — curl your fist and sucker punch him in the nose. it doesn’t have the reaction you expected, anger swirls in his dark eyes as he hoists you up onto the sink with big hands, unbuckles his pants and pulls your skirt up, shoves his hard cock into you in one swift motion.

you let him. it’s embarrassing, but you need a way to release your fury and if that’s by letting him fuck you so hard you knock the sink loose from the wall then so be it. he’s rough, and you match the energy — pulling on his curly hair and baring his neck for you to bite and suck at whilst he pounds into you, has you dripping down the sink onto the floor, cock so deep you can feel him everywhere inside. his hands are rough, slapping your thighs and digging into the flesh so deep he’s going to break the skin with his nails.

“fucking hate you, munson,” you moan against his skin, frightened to say anything more in case you say something dumb in the heat of the moment. heaven forbid you tell him he’s fucking you so good your legs are gonna wobble when you’re eventually lowered back to your feet. that you’re gonna feel empty afterwards and probably ache for him until he fucks you again. he groans at your words, picks up speed to chase his own high, doesn’t give a shit about yours. the sink creaks, mixes in with the sounds of your sopping pussy echoing in the dingy room.

“shut the fuck up and take my cock,” he doesn’t even look you in the eye, watches where your bodies connect instead. your cunt flutters, you squeeze around him, walls constricting. he’s big, fucks you at a pace that has you coming anyway even though he wasn’t trying, you tug harshly on his hair with one hand and dig your nails into his neck with the other as your pussy spasms around him. he loses composure after that.

he comes in you with a grunt, lips pressed to your forehead and you physically recoil at the touch. you clench around him, just to piss him off, and it works — he slips out of you and slaps your untouched clit with the tips of his fingers, enough to elicit a hiss from your pretty mouth in return. he fucks off without so much as a hand to help you off your perch on the dirty sink, and just as suspected your legs shake and quiver. you wonder then what he’d do to you if you punched him properly next time.

[something-tofightfor]

A little treat for anyone reading Liminality:

So.

I commissioned @valkblue for one of her Christmas slots and requested Liminality Frankie with a *few* little hidden treats included …and this is the outcome. (Anyone that can pick out these details is welcome to come scream about them with me!!!).

CURLS. HAT. TATTOOS. EYE CRINKLES. FOREARMS. SCRUFF. THE GRAY IN HIS BEARD. THE TINY SMIRK. THE SHIRT (that was clearly a gag gift from one of the other guys!)There is so much to look at and love 😩😭.

Angie, he is absolutely PERFECT. From the top of his curly head to the tips of his fingers, I could not be happier with this. Thank you so much for putting so much love and attention into what you do.

If you ever have the opportunity to work with Angie for a painting, I HIGHLY recommend it. She’s a dream and will go above and beyond to give you exactly what you’re looking for when it comes to bringing your character to life.

[ofmermaidstories]

the real question is… is our goat soos going to be in your gravity falls fic?

it’s literally illegal to have a gravity falls fic without him, soos is basically the gravity, or the falls. 😩 but yes. 😌 he’s settled in at the shack with melody and their six-month old baby, lee, and abuelita and her collectable porcelain cherubs. 😌 mabel babysits lee sometimes and knits him, herself and waddles matching sweaters. 😌 he’s basically his father in miniature!!! that sharp beaky nose, and those narrow teeth—he’ll have melody’s curly golden hair tho, when he’s older. right now it’s just a single tufty curl. 🥹 when he laughs it’s always breathlessly and silent like he doesn’t know how to make the sound yet and it makes soos laugh with him, without fail, every time. this is soos’s dream life—or the start of it, anyways. 🥹 he’s got melody, lee, abuelita. girldude and boydude are finally home, the mr. pines are there all the time, arguing or making the whole shack hiccup with something down in the secret-not-a-secret basement (it’s really good inspo for his stanfiction!! he writes about their adventures in whatever pole, and all the hot portal babes they probably get). life is perfect, dude. tbh the rest of my non-stanfic is basically background noise to all that. 😌

[indomitable-mrs-barkley]

What if I start theodora again huh? What if I ignore every responsibility AND JUST WATCH LAWRENCE SMILE, SMIRK, BLUSH AT THEO AND LAUGH WITH HER????!!!!!

MAYBE I WILL REPLAY THE ENTIRE STORY JUST FOR HIM???? 😩😩😩😩😩... Everytime I go to collect my daily reward or diamonds, my fingers hover over that replay button. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I. Just. Want. Lawrence. In. Every. Other. Story. And. In. My. Life.

I want to write, draw, sing, dance and go crazy over MR. LAWRENCE BENEDICT BARKLEY. I am your biggest fan, LAWRENCE. Now BECOME REAL AND COME TO ME 😩😩😩🙏🙏🙏🙏

Things that go through my head when I think about their life together ❤️❤️❤️❤️....

1) Theo reading his book and crying her eyes out AND Lawrence holding her while comforting her ❤️❤️

2) Theo teasing Lawrence for tearing up during their wedding ❤️❤️

3) Theo always putting some lemon candies, secretly, in his pockets when they leave for work and Lawrence smiling everytime he finds them ❤️❤️

4) Lawrence being a proud husband everytime Theo writes an amazing article (which is almost always) and boasting about it to their journalist friends ❤️❤️

5) Them visiting the orphanage where he grew up together and spending time with the kids ❤️❤️

6) Theo always assuring Lawrence that he's ENOUGH, that he no longer needs to prove anything to the world anymore ❤️❤️

7) Lawrence loved spending time with Theo more than anything. He also loved kissing her forehead and neck. Theo loved kissing his nose AND RUNNING HER HANDS THROUGH HIS CURLS. LIKE PLS. HE IS HER CURLY GENTLEMAN 😭❤️

[sweetnovember95]

[lnfours]

Okay hear me out, the Fourth of July with Tom’s family at a gorgeous beach house. And his skin is all sun kissed from the summer sun and his curls are even more curly from the salty air 😩

genuinely going to go into cardiac arrest if i think abt this any longer. i NEED him.

i’m getting the summer i turned pretty vibes, a new england summer, yknow? idk, i hope u like it! <3

💌 inbox

toms family was never the type to skip out on a new england summer. the hollands and your family would always spend the summer in massachusetts, spending the days at the beach house nikki had convinced dom to get back when you all were kids.

now it’s become a tradition. a tradition that you’ve grown to fall in love with, wanting nothing more than to keep the tradition going.

the beach house was gorgeous, right on the beach with its own private entrance to the sand and ocean that was calling your name. you took off with the boys to the water, giggling as you raced them into the waves.

it wasn’t a lie that you and tom had always felt some kind of way towards each other, even the adults claim it’s always been obvious ever since you were both teenagers. you both have unspoken feelings about each other, waiting for the other to cave in.

you made your way into the water, tom and sam following close behind you. harry and paddy had fallen short, almost falling in the sand. you laughed as tom splashed you.

“cheater!” he laughed, “you got a head start!”

you smiled, “can’t keep up, spider-man?”

he looked good. too good. his sun kissed skin was glistening with saltwater. the salt in the air had made his curls more defined, sticking to his forehead. his sunglasses sat on his slightly crooked, freckle covered nose.

everything about him was perfect.

“oh i can keep up,” he said, “you just distracted me, that’s all.”

“sorry, i’ll try to be less distracting.”

“nothing wrong with a little distraction once in a while.”

[writingwell]

Could you write a fic where castle compliments Beckett’s hair in linchpin and asks her about it? I’ve always loved that the show made her hair naturally wild and curly and then she usually styles it into those beautiful soft waves but seeing her natural hair is like a glimpse into a sweet vulnerable side to her 😩 thank you love your writing!! 🩷

Try this (please note, I did not go back and watch the episode again; this is quite off the top of my head):

---

Beckett pushed her hands deeper into her pockets, her eyes fixed on the river.

On a narrow escape.

Narrow as a strangled breath breaking the surface of the water. Wise as the river itself.

Blue lights swept across her face, red again, icy blue. Damp at the back of her neck, a shudder she couldn't suppress. The dredging crew was looking for her submerged unit; Beckett watched numbly.

Wide as the river itself.

Wide. And dark. And deep.

And so damn cold.

He scared the shit out of her when the coffee was pushed into her field of vision—a split second's terror for no good reason (and then she heard I guess the good thing about having your daughter at a crime scene—). Her hands were already taking it, fingers burning painfully as heat transferred from the cup. "Thanks," she tried, her voice cracking.

He was staring at her. She found herself staring back at him. Whatever he'd been about to say, whatever she'd thought to say in thanks—the gratitude seemed all off, disproportionate to the enormity of that wide and deep and dark river.

"Cold," she said stupidly, her lips tangling on the word.

He nodded to the coffee; she took a reflexive sip and gasped, fire down her esophagus.

He made a startled move towards her; stopped. Backed off as she waved him away, choking on heat, pure flames of heat.

Good. Necessary. It had knocked the trembling out of her body, the muscles firing indiscriminately with the aftereffects of adrenaline and near-death.

Her heart jerked. He stared at her.

"What," she said, curling the coffee cup to her chest. That moment. That moment with the water rising and rising and ris—

"Your hair," he blurted out.

She stared back at him.

He looked down, back up; his face was sober soft lines and eyes that asked her questions she had no answer for. She swiped at a trickle of water at her neck and he reached out and grasped the edge of the jacket, pulled it up her shoulder, tighter.

---

By the time Sophia had kicked them out of CIA central, escorted by the lowest man on the totem pole no doubt, her spirits had bounced back while his, it seemed, had drowned.

When the hoods came off, they were outside of the precinct. She looked up as she got out of the car, borrowed clothes loose and ill-fitting, but she no longer felt like she was swimming.

Castle, hands in his pockets, looked at the sidewalk. She side-eyed him and gave a chin nod towards the precinct. "You coming?"

He didn't look at her. Cleared his throat.

"Castle," she insisted. Her toes were still not yet thawed, as if the cold of the river hadn't yet dissipated from her veins. "Don't let her get to you."

He made a desultory noise and looked up at her, finally, only to go still.

Completely, utterly still.

"What," she said, the staring thing somehow extra creepy when he was so arrested doing it. (Pun not intended, what the hell was wrong with him?)

"Your hair."

Her arms dropped to her sides. Her mouth opened. Closed again.

"It dries... curly like that?"

She felt the heat bloom from her belly up, prickling at the back of her neck, her scalp. "It... has a mind of its own," she found herself murmuring. The heat suffused her face and she rallied. "It was dry by the time they drove us into her lair and you didn't seem to notice it then."

"Her lair," he scoffed. But the awkwardness fell over him again, his body held stiffly, his hands flexing into fists, his eyes roving. "I never thought to find you like this."

"What?" she croaked. "No. We're not doing—this." She twisted on her heel and headed for the precinct, every inch of her body burning, spikes of heat even down to her once-numb toes.

"Beckett," he called after her, hurrying to catch up. "In the car, I thought I wouldn't—find you."

All the heat dropped out. The wash of chills down her spine made his face fall slack; neither looked at each other as they went inside.

Narrow an escape, wide as the river.

She bobbed to the surface in the elevator, breaking the suffocating silence. "So... you slept with her."

He sighed. "Yeah."

---

[pasha2241]

8 Years On

"The ability to have a choice in what you do is a privilege." 

I'm in college now (yay), and I still can't forget how much seeing his portrayal of Chekov impacted how I viewed my own quirks and interests. A little (tangential) personal story: I used to be really insecure about having curly hair as a kid especially as someone who lives in a region where not many people really have curly hair. When they do, its the norm to straighten it out or cut it really short so that the curls aren't too noticeable (hayst 😩). Along came his films and it somehow made me more comfortable about having curly hair; and I remember seeing him play some character or another and go "huh, curls are actually pretty dope". Years later and voila, I prefer having my hair be its natural self.

He still remains a major source of inspiration for me.

Rest in peace, Anton.

[planetbeanie]

your account inspired me to buy Bam the Ram, which I share a birthday with <3

She looks so textured I love it and those horns that curl like little curly fires 😩😩😩

I love her 😍

[thisisvalid3]

Does anyone else ever think about how the style will change in s5? For both hair and clothing im just so curious. I wonder if El will have a repeat of a prior seasons hair style since she's back to a buzz cut now. Or will Wills hair still be a bowl cut but maybe shaggy and a bit unkempt. Maybe Mikes hair will be shoulder length and have more defined curls.

Perhaps Lucas has a bigger afro or Dustin will have a fluffier curly style since he probably won't use as much hair products now. Will Max's hair be kept up with while she's in a comma? What new style will Erica have? Could Mikes mom get anymore blonde? And for clothing like obviously Wills not gonna have his own clothes so he's gonna be wearing someone else's (Mikes) and same for El (probably Nancy's to signify a sibling/familiar relationship with Mike opposed to a romantic one)

What are the Byers (and Argyle) gonna wear in general honestly. How will this sessions clothing choices represent everyone's characteristics? I just want answers and spoilers for my extremely complex questions 😩