#i really don't like answers that are just gifs

[beatlblog]

#they should have had this treatment during 68-69#they wouldnt have broken up imo 😔 (via @jarsfullofstarrs)

#ringo john paul and fifth beatle (via @misunderstandings-georg)

#this is what mark david chapman should've fucking done (via @ossifer)

#john no ass TRUE (via @necrophagesaint)

#is george in the fucking peter griffin death pose???#i’m dying 😂😂😂 (via @verydazedveryconfused)

#this will go into my list of favorites I have seen born out of#the glue trap posts. Like yeah this is just what the beatles look like (via @icarianarts)

#this really happened I seened it (via @rusholme)

#this is yoko ono erasure#unless thats her face down in the glue idk i dont know my beatles (via @ourladyoftheflytrap)

that may be the answer they were looking for in why don't we do it in the road (via @stumblngrumbl)

#ivan simon's worst nightmare (via @theflirtmeister)

#ringo’s horrified dying scream is genuinely disturbing me#also WHY DOES GEORGE HAVE MORE ASS THAN JOHN#this is biblically innacurate (via @thegalaxyinapaperbag2)

#this probably isn’t it but based off my doctor who mutuals this is basically the new episode?#I know the new one got something to do with the beetles#and the maestro (via @birdy-bird27)

#did wingo gonge bong & beatle really deserve this? (via @sylviaaaaaaaaaaaa)

#yknow this is actually precisely what they deserved#& the fact no one did this to them is the exact reason the world is so bad today (via @anarcho-sexual)

#imagine theres no heaven (via @brainw0rm5)

#stooooooooooooooop ringo looks like a fucked up moomin (via @dijon-mayonnaise)

#i hate the Beatles all of them.. gringle gongle pongle and john#/j (via @spirking-and-sparkling)

mostly john

Ob La Di? Heh. More like...

Ob LaDIE

(via @voxblade)

#okay ❤️ yay ❤️#the beatles#i need a clever queue tag#george harrison family guy fall pose real (via @cheriboms)

#yoko put them there (via @damagedlemons)

#it's what tolkien would've wanted (via @screwdisimgoinhome)

#ringo would somehow survive (via @realrogerhours)

#good riddance#the beatles#just noticed how cheeked up george is wowza#mr no ass gets the cheeks as a treat (via @nyxnoxxx)

#very earthbound image (via @bigbroemen)

#so soulful (via @h4ngedm1n)

#stu sutcliffe dodged being in the beatles and dying in this glue trap (via @baylen)

#i really enjoy that this is beatles circa sgt pepper (via @auxphonographic-dysphonia)

#how they lost the original paul (via @vault76)

#yuo should have given them little penisses (via @normalbrothers)

#LMAOO#is yhe tiny booty not enough for u??? (via @mmeathead)

#choosing to read those tags in a gollum voice (via @sumikatt)

John's buttcrack is too small (via @bi-ace-acle)

#holy FUCK this post has 17k notes???#my little beables blew up#oh now there's an idea#someone should draw that.....#the beatles being kerploded........ (via @70snasagay)

Smesrhglre will not apologize for messagesses (via @oneofathousentdumbasses)

#their penises got eaten off 😢#by the mice (via @wolfcrush)

#the ripped off during their attempts to escape (via @quirkybird)

#bingo starr finally got them all ....... (via @gayrmlin)

#the oenises would add to it for sure (via @hardcorehashbrown)

#unreleased beatles single dying in glue trap with your mates its called#boy's world (via @edgarware)

#nooo q les paso (via @itwasmaroonnn)

#the complete anguish in johns expression. good#also i love that you gave george an ass. that man was flat as a board thanks for the charity (via @wronglennon)

#1969#know your herstory#the bottles (via @brltpop)

#imagine all the people#dying in a glue trap (via @i-arch-my-backula)

#I love this art so much!!#still insane I have it tattooed on me (via @bandi-off)

#society if etc etc (via @soldiermywinter)

#the beatles#no wait these are#the bottles (via @noleygonteevee)

good on the correction

All of the Beatles dying in a glue trap

[coolemmasulivan2]

A Beautiful Mess | 1

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Two neighbors who can’t stand each other, until an accidental kiss changes everything.

Word count: 2846

But close ain't close enough 'Till we cross the line So name a game to play And I'll roll the dice, hey

You and Lando Norris had a problem with each other. There was no denying it. Something about the other person made your skin prickle with irritation, like an itch you couldn't scratch.

You were a Monegasque kindergarten teacher, a job that suited you perfectly. You adored kids. Their joy and innocence made your life simpler.

Monaco had always been your sanctuary: peaceful, elegant, yours. But that changed the moment Lando moved in next door a few years back.

You got along with everyone. It was just who you were. Friendly, patient, easygoing. But him? He was the exception. Loud, cocky, and an absolute menace of a neighbor. Even if he spent most of the year traveling, when he was home, he made sure you knew. The roaring engines, the late-night laughter, the endless stream of people coming and going. It was chaos wrapped in luxury.

He could've lived anywhere. He had the money. But somehow, out of all the places in Monaco, he chose your building.

"I guess Lando's back?" Your sister said, raising an eyebrow as loud music blasted from the apartment next door.

You let out a deep sigh, chopping vegetables with more force than necessary. "He's been back for a while… unfortunately."

A smirk tugged at her lips. "Let me guess, he did something already?"

"Oh, just parked in my spot today. Again." You shot her an exasperated look before slamming the knife against the cutting board. "Someday I'll kill him. I swear."

She chuckled. "Maybe he's running out of places to park his collection."

"I don't care!" You huffed. "He's a billionaire, he can buy a garage. Or better yet, move to a bigger place and stop being my problem."

"You know he does all of this just to piss you off, right?" Your sister said as she sat at the dining table, watching you set down the salad. "You should just ignore him."

"I know!" You groaned, sinking into the chair across from her. "But I can't. He's impossible to ignore. He knows exactly how to push my buttons."

Lando and Max were deep into a racing simulator session, music blasting through the apartment as they waited for their food to be ready.

It was Max's turn on the sim, but the pounding music was messing with his concentration. "Dude, the music... turn it down." He grumbled, eyes locked on the screen.

Lando barely glanced up from his phone. "Why?"

"Because I can't focus! It's too damn loud." Max tried to keep his attention on the race. "Someone's going to complaine about the noise." Then a thought struck him. He paused the race and shot Lando a knowing look. "Wait a second… You want this, don't you?"

Lando shrugged. "No idea what you're talking about."

Max scoffed. "Bullshit. You're trying to piss her off. You want her to came here. That's why the music's so loud. What's your problem with her?"

Lando smirked, eyes flicking back to his phone. "It's fun watching her all worked up."

Max shook his head, half amused, half exasperated. "You know, she's actually really nice."

Lando snorted. "To you and everyone else. Not to me."

"Yeah, because you're an asshole."

Lando finally dropped his phone onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. "She's been like that since day one. She started it."

"And instead of finding out why, you just decided to make things worse." Max said, shaking his head. "Classic you!"

Before Lando could fire back, a knock on the door echoed through the apartment.

His smirk widened. "Told you, she can't stay away." He pushed up from his seat, heading for the door.

Max groaned, calling after him, "Dude, be nice, please!"

You bit your nails, pacing as you waited for Lando to answer his door. Normally, you were a calm and patient person. But Lando Norris had a talent for bringing out the absolute worst in you. And the worst part? He enjoyed it. You knew he did.

Inside your apartment you heard the door finally open.

"Hi!" Your sister's voice rang out, soft and sweet, just like she always was. Unlike you, she had never raised her voice in frustration, not even to assholes like Lando.

"Oh, hi!" Lando's voice dripped with warmth, and you immediately rolled your eyes. Of course, he could turn on the charm when he wanted to.

"Sorry to bother you…"

"No problem!" He said. You nearly gagged.

"Could you turn the music down a little?" Your sister asked politely.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry about that, I didn't even realize it was that loud. Really, I'm so sorry."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor.

You had stood at his door countless times, asking the same thing, and every single time, he would gave you a cocky remark, or worst of all, he'd turned the music up louder just to spite you. But with your sister? He was suddenly the picture of politeness.

You were seconds away from storming out of your apartment to tell him exactly what you thought of his two-faced behavior, but your sister's voice stopped you.

"I appreciate it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight!" Lando replied smoothly. You let out a deep breath, leaning your head against the wall in frustration. Your sister had just started pushing the door open when Lando added: "Oh, and say hi to your sister for me."

That was it. You clenched your fists, shoving past your sister, ready to wipe that smug grin off his face, but before you could get a single word out, his door clicked shut.

"I hate him so much."

From the other side of the door, Lando grinned like an idiot, watching you through the peephole as you stomped away in frustration.

"There's just something special about pissing her off." He mused, clearly enjoying himself.

Max, standing behind him with his arms crossed, let out a sigh. "You're an idiot."

Two days had passed since your sister left for Rome, where she lived with her boyfriend. You were alone again, not that it bothered you. Your parents still lived in Monaco, in the house you grew up in, and you saw them almost every day.

One of the things you loved most about Monaco was being so close to the ocean. Every morning, as soon as you opened your bedroom window, you would close your eyes and breathe it in—the salty air, the gentle breeze, the familiar scent that made you feel at home. It was the perfect way to start the day, making your morning run that much easier.

Like always, before heading to work, you laced up your shoes and stepped outside. Today was no exception.

You had been running for a while, sweat clinging to your skin as your breath fell into a steady rhythm. The music playing softly in your ears didn't drown out the sounds of the city.

Lost in thought, you instinctively turned toward your building, crossing the road without a second glance.

The loud sound of tires screeching against the asphalt snapped you out of your trance. A rush of air whooshed past as a sleek car came to a sudden stop just inches from you. Your heart leaped into your throat, your body reacting before your mind caught up. You stumbled back and before you could stop yourself, you were on the ground.

The driver's side door swung open, and before you even looked up, you knew exactly who it was.

Lando stepped out, his expression a mix of worry and frustration, but before he could speak, you were already pushing yourself to your feet, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

"Are you insane?" You snapped, ripping your airpods out. "You almost ran me over!"

His brows shot up. "Me? You're the one who ran straight into the road without looking!"

You opened your mouth to argue, but the truth of his words sank in. Still, there was no way you were letting him win this. "Maybe if you weren't driving like a lunatic--"

Lando scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Driving like a lunatic? I was literally pulling out of the garage."

You huffed, brushing the dirt off your leggings. "What if it was a kid crossing instead of me?"

"Then I would've stopped, just like I did now." He shot back. "But you... You didn't even look before stepping onto the road! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I wouldn't have to worry about being flattened by my obnoxious neighbor before eight in the morning!"

Lando shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You're unbelievable."

"You're infuriating."

"You're dramatic."

"You're--"

"Y/n?" A new voice cut through the tension, making both of you turn. Standing a few feet away was your kindergarten director. Dressed in his usual grey suit, he raised an eyebrow at the two of you. "Is everything alright?" He asked.

You cleared your throat, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this must have looked, standing in the middle of the street, flustered, sweaty, and arguing with a F1 driver.

"Yes, everything's fine!" You said quickly, forcing a polite smile.

Monsieur Bernard nodded, then glanced at Lando. "I didn't realize you knew such a famous driver, Y/n!" He stretched his hand and Lando shook it.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "We're just neighbors."

Lando grinned. "Very close neighbors."

You shot him a glare, but before you could say anything, Monsieur Bernard continued. "You know, our little ones love racing. It would be wonderful if you could visit the school sometime, talk to the kids about it."

"Oh!" You forced a polite chuckle. "I'm sure Lando is far too busy. I wouldn't want to take up his time."

Lando, to your absolute horror, shrugged. "Actually, I think it's a great idea." You snapped your head toward him, eyes wide. "Yeah, why not? I've got some time before the season starts again. I'd love to come by."

Monsieur Bernard smiled. "That's wonderful! Y/n, can you please set everything up?" You smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Norris. It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise." As Monsieur Bernard walked away, you groaned, rubbing your temples. Lando chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. "See? I can be a good neighbor."

You exhaled sharply, turning on your heel toward your building. "I hope the kids throw paint at you."

Lando chuckled, watching you storm off, clearly frustrated with how the day had started. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary and not even he could deny that your ass looked good on those leggings.

"Stop it, Lando!" He muttered to himself, shaking his head as if it would physically shake the thoughts away. "Don't go there."

With a deep breath, he slid back into his car, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. Without another glance at the building, he drove off.

You lay in bed, scrolling through your phone, hoping to lull yourself to sleep. The soft glow of the screen was the only light in the room, your thumb moving lazily over the screen, until something in your feed made you pause.

Your eyes narrowed as you clicked on the reel. A fan edit of your annoying neighbor filled your screen, all set to a song that did nothing to make him look innocent. Quite the opposite.

Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes locked on the video as if trapped in some kind of trance. The way he carried himself, the confidence, the effortless charm-- No. Absolutely not.

The reel restarted, snapping you out of whatever trance had just taken over you. With a horrified gasp, you jolted upright, tossing your phone onto the bed like it had burned you.

"Ugh-- no. What the hell?" You threw a pillow at your phone, like the device was alive. "Even on my phone?" You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

This man was infiltrating every corner of your life. And you hated it.

The day had arrived.

The kids had been buzzing with excitement all week, their energy doubling ever since they learned that Lando Norris was coming to visit. It didn't matter that half of them were too young to understand F1, but the mere idea of someone fast and famous coming to their school had them bouncing off the walls. You, on the other hand, were bracing yourself for chaos.

You had done your best to keep the kids calm, but by the time the morning rolled around, they were practically vibrating with anticipation. What car does he drive? Will he let us race? Can he do drive in the playground?

And then, Lando arrived. Dressed in his McLaren clothes, sunglasses and wearing that signature smile.

The kids lost their minds. "Landoooooo!" The group rushed toward him, bombarding him with questions before he could even say a word.

"Whoa, whoa, one at a time!" Lando laughed, crouching down to be at their level.

You stood at a distance, arms crossed, watching as he handled the chaos with surprising ease.

"Can you drive faster than Batman?"

"Can we race you?"

"Do you get scared when you go super fast?"

Lando hesitated for a second, then grinned. "Sometimes! But that's what makes it exciting."

You rolled your eyes. Still, you couldn't deny that the kids adored him. They hung onto their seats, eyes wide with fascination as he described what it felt like to race at over 300 km/h, how he trained, and even how he sometimes got nervous before big races.

Somewhere in the middle of the chaos, you realized that Lando was actually good at this. He had their full attention, something you usually had to work twice as hard for.

And then, as if sensing your thoughts, he caught your eye from across the room and winked, making you gag.

Unfortunately for Lando, someone else caught the moment.

A little girl sitting nearby tilted her head curiously, her big eyes flicking between the two of you. "Is Miss Y/n your girlfriend?" She asked innocently.

Lando, who had just taken a sip of water, immediately started coughing. He nearly choked, hand flying to his chest as he struggled to recover. "What?"

You, on the other hand, wanted the earth to swallow you whole. The rest of the kids, now very interested, turned toward you both with excited expressions.

"Is that why you're here?" Another girl asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Do you live together?" A boy asked before Lando could even recover from the first question.

Lando, still slightly choking, looked horrified.

"Nope!" You cut in quickly, clapping your hands together in a desperate attempt to redirect the conversation. "Who wants to show Lando their artwork?"

A chorus of Me! Me! Me! erupted, and just like that, the kids forgot all about their matchmaking attempts, eagerly rushing to grab their drawings.

You let out a slow breath, glancing at Lando, who was still lightly hitting his chest.

"What the hell just happened?" He asked, his voice still uneven.

You crossing your arms. "They're kids, Lando! If you wink at their teacher, this is what you get."

"A vision of a nightmare?"

You shot him a glare. "Asshole!"

He smirked. "Such a dirty mouth for a kindergarten teacher."

Your jaw clenched. You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as sweet as honey. "And yet, still more mature than a F1 driver."

Lando grinned, leaning in just a little. "Debatable."

Before you could walk away from Lando, chaos erupted.

"Me first!"

"No, me!"

Two of the kids appeared out of nowhere, each clutching their artwork, too focused on their battle to notice where they were going. Straight into you.

You barely had time to react before they crashed into your legs, making you lose balance.

"Oh--"

Lando was sat in a chair right in front of you, and before you could steady yourself, you stumbled forward and fell right into him.

His hands instinctively came up to catch you, but it was too late. Your lips brushed against his. It was barely a touch, but enough to make the world stop.

The kids were still yelling, the classroom still buzzing with energy, completely unaware of what had just happened, but all you could register was the way your lips were still touching.

You quickly pulled back, eyes wide, heart racing. Lando blinked up at you, looking just as stunned, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

You straightened, feeling warmth creeping up your neck,

"This is my drawing." One of the kids said, tugging at Lando's sleeve. "It's a boat and this is my dad."

That snapped Lando out of it. He cleared his throat and looked away from you. "Wow, that's amazing! You're so talented."

You turned away quickly, your pulse still hammering as you focused on the children, pretending like nothing had happened.

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, still looking anywhere but at you.

For once, there were no smirks, no teasing, just the feeling that something between you had just shifted.

[marauroon]

I heard asks are open?! Can you please, pretty please, with a cherry on top, write something where the reader has chronic pain and is going through a really bad crash+flare up? And maybe this happens right after the full moon, so Remus is also really under the weather. So, James and Sirius are taking care of them? The bit with it being the full moon is 100% optional. I'm just dying from a flare-up and for someone to dote on me and take care of me right now, haha.

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬. (𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲.𝐦)

james and sirius never hesitate to amp up the tlc when you and remus are having a tough time.

poly!marauders x gn!reader | 1.2k | h/c | masterlist.

You're already awake when you hear the front door open.

Well, “awake” might be too generous a word. You've been drifting in and out for what feels like hours, wrapped in a fog of pain and exhaustion.

The air in the bedroom is heavy with it, pressing against your ribs like a weighted blanket. Your body feels like lead, every nerve raw, every muscle clenched and aching. It’s been a long night.

A really long night.

The kind where sleep is just another thing your body refuses to cooperate with, where no position is comfortable, where you count the hours in the slow, creeping throb of your pulse in your joints.

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of soft voices and the rustling of coats, hoping—just for a second—that they'll let you be. Not because you don’t want them. You do. But you also don’t want to be a burden, don’t want to be another weight on their shoulders, not when you know they already have their hands full.

But James and Sirius have never been particularly good at leaving you alone when you're hurting.

The bedroom door creaks open. You don’t have to look to know it's them. You can smell the fresh air on their clothes, the damp scent of early morning rain. James, predictably, has already kicked off his shoes—he hates wearing them inside. Sirius, less predictably, is quiet. Normally, he'd beeline for the bed, flopping on top of you like an overgrown puppy. Today, though, he's careful.

“Hey, sweetheart,” James murmurs, voice low and warm as he comes around to your side of the bed. His hand is gentle as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

You make a noise that isn't really an answer. It’s as much as you can manage.

James hums, fingers brushing lightly over your skin. “That bad, huh?”

You don't respond, but you don’t need to. You know the answer is written all over your face.

On the other side of the bed, you hear Sirius sigh, the mattress dipping as he perches on the edge. His fingers graze your arm, and you shiver at the touch. Not because it's unpleasant—Sirius is always warm—but because even the lightest pressure sends sharp, aching pain rippling through your body.

He must feel the way you tense, because he pulls back immediately. “Sorry, love,” he says, softer than usual. There's a strain in his voice, something tight and frustrated. Not at you—never at you—but at the situation, at the way he can’t fix this for you.

You force your eyes open, just a crack. “‘S okay,” you rasp, voice hoarse from disuse. “Just... hurts,”

James makes a quiet, sympathetic noise, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. His lips are warm, and for just a moment, you let yourself lean into it, into him.

“Have you eaten?” he asks.

You shake your head. The thought of food makes your stomach turn.

“Drink anything?” Sirius presses, frowning.

Another shake of the head.

“Alright,” James says, rolling up the sleeves of his jumper. “We can work with that,”

You blink at him, sluggish. “M’not hungry,”

James just grins, undeterred. “You say that now, but give me ten minutes. You know I can work miracles,”

You do know. And if you had the energy, you’d roll your eyes at him. Instead, you just let your gaze drift closed again.

James presses another kiss to your temple before he slips away, heading for the kitchen. You listen to his footsteps retreating down the hall, the clatter of cupboards opening. Sirius stays.

He's still quiet. Too quiet.

It takes effort, but you turn your head just enough to look at him. He's paler than usual, dark circles bruising the delicate skin beneath his eyes. His hair is a mess—well, more of a mess than usual—and there’s a cut just above his eyebrow that looks fresh.

“Were you out all night?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius huffs out a breath that might be a laugh, but there’s no real amusement in it. “Yeah,” he admits. "Moony had it rough,”

Right. The full moon.

You turn your head a little more, your sluggish brain finally catching up. “Remus? Is he okay?”

“He’s alright, gorgeous,” Sirius says. “Miserable, but alright. We’ve set him up on the sofa,”

That explains the exhaustion clinging to him, the way he’s more subdued than usual.

You reach for him without thinking, a slow, clumsy movement. Your fingers barely graze his wrist before he catches your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours. His grip is warm and solid, grounding.

“I hope he’s okay,” you mumble.

Sirius lets out a soft sigh. “He’ll be fine, James ‘nd I will take care of him, don’t worry,”

But he doesn’t argue when you tug weakly at his arm, urging him to lie down. He just kicks off his jeans and crawls into bed beside you, careful as he curls around your body, keeping his touch light.

The warmth of him is immediate, seeping into your bones, easing some of the tension in your muscles. You breathe him in, the familiar scent of leather and smoke and something distinctly Sirius. He exhales slowly against your shoulder, and you can feel some of the tension in his own body unwind.

James returns not long after, balancing a tray with one hand, a glass of water in the other, Remus following behind him with heavy, uncoordinated movements.

“Breakfast in bed for my loves,” he announces, far too cheerful for the hour. “Because I am, in fact, the best boyfriend in the world,”

Sirius snorts against your shoulder before vacating his place at your side to help Remus into the bed instead. “Bit early to be handing out awards, don’t you think?”

James ignores him, setting the tray down on the nightstand. You blink at the contents—toast, tea, something that smells vaguely like soup. Simple, easy. Your stomach churns at the thought, but you know James. He won’t push, but he won’t let you get away with nothing, either.

“Just a little,” he coaxes, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Two bites, at least. Humour me, okay?”

You sigh. “Fine,”

It’s slow going, but James is patient, coaxing the two of you into a few bites, a few sips of tea. Sirius is quick to doze beside you, his breath even and steady against your skin, a comfortable heat from his and Remus’ bodies radiating against your skin.

And for the first time all night, the pain doesn’t feel quite so overwhelming.

[babvc-au]

Alrighty Folks! The Time Has Finally Come!

Hopefully this is everything and i didn't miss any panels or doodles for this post, but here is almost everything about BABVC's comic sketches, wips, doodles, refs, and even scripts i never finished, plus more! Doodles and other art stuff will be added to the end of this post. (Due to how many wips i have and such, there will be multiple reblogs happening as i go through this so bare with me.)

So, did you want to know how BaBvc would have went? Here's your answer. (This will contain a mix of the script, old comic wips and context)

Now, well jump to where we left off in the comic with a smol refresher.

Scene 6 Nightmare:

It's dark and bendy is in a black like void. He hears voices.

"Why? You had a chance!" OB growls.

"Who's there!?" Bendy shouts.

"Why did you resist?" OB

"What?"

Bendy's eyes are suddenly covered by cold clawed hands. And he tries to pry them off.

"Why!?" OB

"What are you talking about?! Who are you!" Bendy growls trying to fight them off.

"Don't keep me waiting much longer" we see the claws retract and three tails around Bendy.

"I'm sick of waiting"

The last shot is of Bendy's demon cross eye.

“But, how…?”

He hears a yawn from Boris as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “good morning, Bendy”

Boris blinks at Bendy’s hand and the bag, "You better not eat that so early in the morning, Bendy.” Boris scolded, ears pinned back.

“What? No, i wouldn't do that. But...” Bendy says, looking at the can thoughtfully. "Did you get some more after last night…?" He asked the tall wolf. Boris raised a brow at him, confused. 

"What do you mean?" He asked. "That's the same bag from last night when we went to the market right?" He asked. 

"Well yeah but, I lost it, remember?" Bendy said and looked up at his younger brother. Boris stares at him in confusion. "...You did?" He asked. 

Camera focuses on the can in his hand.

Scene 8:

Bendy and Boris enter Berry cafe and take a seat at a booth.

"So you honestly don't remember?" Bendy starts looking across the table to his younger brother.

"I really don't. I only remember us getting the stuff, and then after that, it's all blurry. Like I blacked out or something, and then it was morning." Boris replied. "Are you sure you didn't just imagine you lost it? Maybe it was a dream that you had last night." He points out.

"..." Bendy thinks, "Maybe you're right. I've been having weird dreams, and I guess it's possible." He says tiredly. "Though it really felt like I wasn't dreaming." He mumbled to himself.

Then Melody comes around shortly after and asks them what they would like to order. "Hello, welcome to Berry's Cafe. What would you - oh! It's you two, the usual then?" She smiles and lifts her paper and pen.

Bendy lifts his head and gives a small smile. "Ah, yeah, for me, at least. Boris?" He looks over expectantly for his order.

"Oh! um, what's the special today?"

"New York cheesecake drizzled in strawberries and syrup, it's so good!" she smiles and hugs her notepad dreamily.

Boris perks at that smiling "Guess I know what I'm getting now, (haha) and can I get a hot coco with that, thanks Melody."

"No problem! I'll put your order in right away." She nods and walks away allowing Bendy to see the other residents in the cafe. And surprisingly enough he sees someone familiar. His eyes widened a little, shocked.

(Isn't that-?)

Bendy looks at his right wrist and rubs it lightly.

(So it hadn't been a dream? I should probably thank him.)

Bendy stood, making Boris look at him. "Bendy?"

"I'll be back."

Bendy walks away and heads for the familiar person.

"Uh, Hey." he says. Catching Cupheads attention who opens his eyes. He looks a little confused and shocked to see Bendy for a moment.

"I wanted to say thanks for the other night you really helped me back there." Bendy says looking to the side awkwardly.

Cuphead says nothing for a minute. His shock turns to annoyance.

"Yeah, whatever, watch yourself, you're lucky I found you when I did." Cuphead says with a steady look. "Didn't your mom teach you not to walk around at night by yourself?"

"It's dangerous." He glares, narrowing his eyes.

Bendy furrows his brows at the semi aggressive tone. "Hey, I came to thank you, not get a lecture! And I wasn't by myself."

"..."

"Anyway like I said, thank you, seriously." Bendy frowned.

Cuphead stands up and looks down at Bendy, who looks up at him in return nervously as they stare at each other.

"Here you go sir, your order." Tostie says, giving Cuphead two drinks.

"Thanks," he says.

She walks away.

"There you are, Cuppy!" A new voice sounds in the cafe besides Bendy.

Mugs comes over and stands by his brother's side. Who gives him an exhausted look.

"Here." Cuphead hands him the second drink.

"Oh! Were you in the middle of something?" Mugs looks between Bendy and Cuphead.

Cuphead gives Bendy another glare.

"No. Let's go." He walks off, but Mugs falters and gives Bendy a nervous smile and a wave before he follows.

"Geez, what a jerk." (At least the other guy was nice) Bendy sweats but shrugs it off heading back to Boris.

"Was that someone you knew?"

"Uh, not exactly," Bendy says as he slides back into the booth.

It's silent for a moment before Boris speaks up.

"Bendy, listen, I know you're just as confused as I am, but you haven't told me a single thing about what happened last night, I was really worried about you."

"I know, I promise to tell you when I've made sense of it, ok? Just… give me some time."

Boris sighs, "...Ok"

Bendy looks away and out the window covered in fog with a thoughtful look. It starts to snow a little.

Scene 9

Cuphead glares ahead. (The hell? Did I not wipe his memory correctly? And what's with that weird smell?) He rubs his nose.

Mugman watches him, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cuphead mutters. “I just need to go to the casino… again.”

Mugman frowns. “Huh? Why?”

“I’ll tell you later—unless you wanna come with me.”

Mugman hesitates, then nods. “Mmm… I’ll go with you.” Cuphead glances at him, his expression unreadable. Without another word, he keeps walking.

(Que this scene where they report to The Devil about Bendy being immune to memory wiping)

"Sir, I've come to report something." [Kneeling]

"What is it?"

"There's someone i met that's immune to memory wiping."

"..."

"Is that so..."

(Thus, The Devil orders Cuphead to keep an eye on Bendy and to report back if anything happens.)

Scene 12

Cuphead (bat form) climbs through the crack of the window in the kitchen. He hops to the ground and transforms back into his toon form. He dusts himself off and then looks up. Unexpectedly Bendy was in the doorway and saw everything.

(Que a funny nervous Bendy stares and throws a mug at Cuphead.)

Bendy runs to his couch and starts his spiel.

"What are you doing in my house!? Are you going to kill me!? You're a vampire! Aren't you supposed to stay out of houses unless you're invited!? Or something!?

"Huh?"

"Wait a minute, vampires have other weaknesses! I think I have a few things!"

Bendy runs out of the room, and Cuphead is left in confusion.

"Okay...this is weird." -sigh-

Bendy comes in and out with various "vampire deterrents"

"Garlic!?"

"No"

"A cross!?"

"Nope"

"A stake!?" (It's a twig)

"Na-da"

"Sunlight!?" (Its a flashlight.)

"Did you forget you saw me at the café?"

[temporarywelcome]

Hospital Visit - Spencer Reid

REQUESTED!

The Request: Your smooth criminal series is actually perfect!!!! Ahh I love the way you write both of them and their dynamics with the team. Obsessed 💕 Request: Kleptomaniac!Reader twists her ankle or like gets hurt due to practices during a dance and ends up at the hospital and worried spencer comes and sees her stealing little equipments again and her trying to leave because she doesnt want to miss her dance. (I really didn't know how to frame what I was thinking but honestly i think whatever you write will be amazing) -anonymous

CW: swearing, a bit suggestive towards the end. Technically part of my "Smooth Criminal" series though you don't need to read the other parts to understand!

AN: I'm half Dominican so yes I can poke fun of Dominican people 🙄 lmao this character I created for this is loosely based off of my grandpa-. Also totally forgot the "her trying to leave" part so I might make a seperate fic with that, mb...

_____

Words: 2k

Spencer Reid wasn’t one to leave work early. 

When there was not a case and the Behavorial Analysis Unit was busy at the office, Spencer never left early. For him, that is ridiculous. Other members of the team like Hotch and JJ would have their moments where they would have to dash out of the building with barely any warning, due to little emergencies with their children. It barley happened, but when it did, it was understandable. 

Spencer, on the other hand, did not have children to worry about. He never had a reason to leave work. 

Until his phone rang. 

Flipping it open, his brows furrowed when he noticed who it was. His girlfriend. Her calling him in the middle of work never raised any alarm. She probably just brought him some lunch again, which she did a few days ago. Or some drama happened in a show she was watching and she just had to let it out. Probably something silly like that. 

But, wait! She had said she was going to be at the studio early today to get in some extra practice before rehearsal. So why would she be calling him instead of practicing?

“Hello?” he placed the phone to his ear. 

The voice on the other end answered in panic, “Hello? Is this Spencer?”

That was not his girlfriend. Instead, it was a man with a heavy accent, the genius deduced Dominican. What the fuck was she doing with this guy? 

“Yes, I’m Spencer, as the contact ID says,” Spencer replied curtly, feeling a hint of jealousy brewing within him, “Who is this?”

“I am Flavio!” the man replied confiently, “Flavio Herrera de León! I-”

“-Why are you calling me from my girlfriend’s phone?” Spencer interrupted in annoyance, “Where is she?”

“Oh!” the man laughed awkwardly, “On the floor! I will be taking her to a hospital now!”

Now Spencer was shooting up to his feet, gathering his things as he spoke, “Hospital?! Why do you need to take her to the hospital? Why is she on the floor?!”

“Very bad injury,” said Flavio, “I worry for her,”

Very bad injury?!

“What do you mean by that?!” Spencer mouthed to Hotch a quick ‘I gotta go’, not waiting for an answer as he sped towards the door, “How bad-”

“-Must take her to hospital. Blood everywhere. Bye bye!” And with that, fucking Flavio hung up the phone, leaving Spencer in an even worst panic. Blood everywhere? What the hell was Y/N doing?

Knowing her, it could have been anything. Every possible thought went through his head, every possibility. She was zoned out and got hit by a car. She tried to befriend a dog that wasn’t very friendly. She fell down a flight of stairs. 

She stressed him the fuck out. 

After breaking at least twelve traffic laws, Spencer found himself at the ER, pushing past people to get to the receptionist. “Y/N L/N,”

Not looking up at him from her computer, the woman replied with: “Relation to the patient?” 

Ugh. “FBI. Let me see her,” he waved his badge at her. He knew this was unprofessional and an abuse of power, but this was his girlfriend. The girl he was planning to marry someday. Who he was convinced stupidly got herself into this medical emergency. 

Abuse of power be damned. 

He was led through the ER to her room, bursting in. He was expecting tubes and machines connected to her unconscious form, maybe a cast or two. He was expecting to be completely traumatized by the sight before him.

Not his girlfriend shoving surgical gloves into her pockets. 

Her head snapped into his direction, eyes wide, but when it hit that it was Spencer and not a doctor, she sighed, body relaxing. “Shit, Spence, why didn’t you just kick the door down while you’re at it?” she said sarcastically. 

He did not find her amusing. She didn’t even know if her words registered to him. “What happened?!” he felt like he repeated that quite often today. He cupped her jaw, turning her head in all different directions while looking for any wounds, “That guy said there was blood everywhere! Where are you hurt?!” his eyes went from her face to the rest of her body. 

“He’s so dramatic,” Y/N groaned, “There was blood everywhere because I had gotten a bloody nose from hitting the floor.” She grabbed his hands that were now on her shoulders, bringing them to her cheeks. Her eyes closed and lips curled into a smile, nuzzling into him. “No broken nose,”

“Then why the hell are you in the hospital?” 

“Sprained ankle. Doctor said I won’t be able to dance for about three weeks,” Her eyes opened, meeting his, and all his anger and anxiety vanished. She was okay. She was safe. Not mauled by a dog or hit by a car. 

Safe. 

“Next time you get an injury like this, please call me yourself,” Spencer sighed in relief, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, “Your friend scared me to death,” 

“My friend is super dramatic,” she giggled, already sensing his dislike towards Flavio, “He thought I broke my foot and my nose,” 

“Of course he’s dramatic. Birds of a feather flock together,” Spencer tried to joke, hands now resting on her waist, “You know… You never told me you were practicing with this friend. I thought you were practicing alone,” 

“Didn’t think I had to specify,” Yeah, he was so jealous, it was so obvious to her. 

“You should, so in the case you get kidnapped, I would have somewhere to start-”

“Spence!” she gasped, playfully hitting his shoulder, “Not only is that really anxiety-enducing, but I know for a fact that’s not why you wanted to know.” Y/N smirked, leaning closer to him, “He has a wife, Spence.”

“And? People cheat all the time. About twenty percent of married men cheat on their spouses-”

“How little do you trust me though?” she huffed. 

“It’s him I don’t trust,” Spencer corrected himself, “I trust you. Of course, I trust you,” As he spoke, he removed the surgical gloves from her pockets, “Even when you steal all of my things and I have to buy replacements because you lost them after, I still trust you. It’s just…” he trailed off, throwing the now contaminated gloves into the trash bin. 

“Just what?” As he distracted himself with the gloves, she reached out and grabbed a handful of q-tips from the table next to the examining bed she sat on, now putting those into her pockets. 

Spencer turned to face her again, “It’s just that, with this job, I see so many horrible things happen to women. And the thought of something happening to my woman scares me,” His arms went around her again, “Every time I get a case file and see a woman’s body, it occurs to me how easily it could be you,” 

“...damn,” she cleared her throat, looking down, “Gee, now Imma be scared to go outside,” 

“No you’re not,” his hands slipped into her pockets, taking out the q-tips. Spencer always noticed everything. “You’re going to continue being you and I’m going to continue worrying about you every time we’re apart. I do wish you would be more careful. I know right now you were with this guy for work-related reasons and you had to, but at least tell me?”

“Mhm,” she nodded softly. He went to throw out the q-tips, and while he did so, she began shoving gauze into her pockets next. 

“Put the gauze back,” he said firmly, not even looking at her as he disposed of the material. 

“I can’t help it,” a huff left her lips as she tossed the box (yes, she attempted to steal the whole box) back onto the counter. 

“Tell me why you need a whole box of gauze, dear,” Spencer always spoke like that when addressing her kleptomania. Why do you need this object you are stealing? And they both would know she didn’t need it, and she would keep repeating that in her head until the urge (hopefully) went away. 

“I don’t need a whole box of gauze,” she stated the obvious, taking a deep breath, “I don’t need a whole box of gauze,”

“You don’t need a whole box of gauze,” Spencer confirmed, taking her hands like he always did when she was getting her urges, “Or q-tips. Or surgical gloves. What do you possibly need to examine with those, hm?” he said the last part lightly, nuzzling her nose with his. 

A smirk formed on her face as she spoke, “You?” 

“Me? And how would you do that?” 

“Can examine the part of you I love most….” she trailed off, in thought, “Wait, that’s hard. That was supposed to be me saying your dick however is that really what I love most? ‘Cause, like, look at you,” 

She always knew how to make his cheeks burn red. “What else do you love then?” 

“Oooh, where do I begin?” she threw her arms up in the air dramatically, “Okay, let me start with your facial features…”

____

By the time she was cleared by a doctor and allowed to leave the room, Spencer had a good hickey or two (four actually) on his neck and a giddy expression on his face. Once in the waiting room, a man shot up seeing Y/N, Spencer immediately assuming Flavio. 

“Ah, mi flor,” he exclaimed, examining her all over, “Nothing is broken! How good!”

“Yep, all good,” Y/N replied, “Flavio, meet my boyfriend, Spencer. Spencer, meet Flavio, one of my dance partners for my current show,” 

Spencer and Flavio shook hands, Y/N giggling softly at the look Spencer was giving him. Oh, she knew damn well Spencer was profiling the fuck out of him. To most people, Spencer looked like he had a blank expression on his face, but Y/N knew him better. There was something about Flavio that Spencer did not like. She wasn’t sure if it was the simple fact this was a man who spends alone time with his woman, or something else entirely. 

“It is so nice to meet you, Spencer!” Flavio shook his hand cheerfully, “I have heard many good things about you!” 

“Oh, really?” that made Spencer cheer up slightly, “I’m glad to hear that,” he draped an arm around Y/N’s waist. Spencer didn’t look like the type, but he was incredibly possessive, which was fine, because Y/N was possessive as fuck over him. Spencer precieved everything friendly said to her as flirting, though, when someone actually flirted with him he wouldn’t catch it. It was cute, but also frustrating, because then the only way to get these people to leave him alone is a threat or two coming from her. 

Flavio opened his mouth to speak, but paused when his phone rang. He flipped it open, seeing the caller ID. “Ah, I must take this. My girlfriend is calling,”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, “I thought you were married?”

“Yes yes, I am,” the dancer shrugged, “My wife is here. My girlfriend is in la Republica Dominicana,” And with that, he was off, babbling into the phone. 

“I told you,” Spencer rolled his eyes, glaring at Flavio’s retreating form in disgust, “Twenty percent,” 

“You best not be part of that twenty percent in the future or I’ll end up being an unsub your team has to catch,” Y/N threatened lightly, pinching his side. 

“Hey!” he gasped, “What makes you think- wait,” hard stop, “Does that mean you see yourself marrying me someday?”

She smirked, beginning to walk (limp) towards the exit, “Hmmmm, maybe?” 

“Wait! Wait, you can’t just drop that and wobble away from me!” He followed after her, a huge shit-eating grin forming on his lips.

[mqriuss]

To be named is to be special

from 'us, always' collection

recommended to read "a gift" first / divider by cafekitsune

"…You got a name?" He asked, his voice rough.

Your eyes lit up a little at that. "LIV," you said and Rindou pursed his lips.

"That's your brand's name."

Rindou doesn't name you the first day he got you. Did you even... need a different name? You already referred to yourself as LIV anyway, and he was fine with that. You seemed fine with that.

For a few weeks, that's all he'd call you—LIV. And he'd insisted you addressed him as just 'Rindou' whenever you tried calling him a pet name.

"Do you not like being called 'baby'? How 'bout 'sweetheart'?"

"Just call me Rindou."

"Okay."

Then you'd make that same mistake the next day. He thinks it's probably because you were programmed to think anyone who owned a Companion Aptroid would be desperate enough to want an Aptroid to call them "honey bear". But since you were gifted to Rindou, he has to sort of help you... unlearn some of what you were meant to do. Like calling him pet names.

One day, he realized something when he overheard a store manager yelling at his Aptroid worker.

"But sir, I don't think I can spare any more time for this-" the Aptroid tried to decline, but it only made his manager even more furious.

"Are you telling me no? It's an order!"

It was as if a switch had been flipped—the Aptroid immediately went back to work, looking almost embarrassed when he saw that Rindou was watching the whole thing unfold.

As Rindou browsed around the place, the manager appeared and started complaining to no one in particular. "Ah, these damn Aptroids... I thought they were just meant to work and obey. Is it 'cause he's an Apt-05?"

Rindou raised an eyebrow at him, "Apt-05 is an older version, right?" He queried.

"They ain't that old, the latest Aptroid model is an Apt-07. I heard they're more obedient—might have to replace him soon. I dunno what's up with him, but he's been having a mind of his own lately," he absentmindedly spoke, lighting himself a cigarette. Rindou listened with curiosity, but didn't think much of his words yet. "These days, he'll only listen if I tell him it's an order. I never had to do that till about a year ago."

Rindou perked up at that.

"You're home, sweetheart! I made you dinner, how was work?" You greeted him warmly that night, placing a dish on the small dining table. He doesn't answer you for a while, only taking his coat off in silence before he sat down whilst eyeing you.

"What if I told you it was an order?"

"Hm?"

"Call me Rindou. That's an order."

It worked. You really did call him Rindou ever since that day. So for another few days, it was just Rindou... and LIV. And you never really complained.

Emphasis on "another few days".

"Will you name me?" You asked him one day when the both of you were sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

He had to sit with your question for a while. What are you, a pet? Can't you pick a name yourself? Did he need to name you?

"What's wrong with LIV?" Rindou asked you back.

"It's not mine," you hesitated. Rindou absentmindedly turned back to the TV after you answered him, unknowing of what to say next for a while. You noticed, so you sat up straight and added, "I don't like it."

He crossed his arms behind his head. "Alright," he said, "if you don't like LIV, then pick a new name."

You nodded, this should be easy, you both thought. But the seconds stretch and you had gone really quiet. Rindou watched as your brows furrowed slightly.

Finally, you shook your head, "I can't do it."

Rindou blinked. "What do you mean you can't?" He questioned, receiving a shrug on your end. "Can't as in you don't want to, or can't as in it's literally impossible?"

"I don't know—I tried, really."

"You can memorize a whole article about the World War II after reading it once, but you can't name yourself?"

"Yeah, no kidding."

He tilted his head. "Uh, try thinking of a name you like right now," he suggested.

"Rindou."

At your immediate response, Rindou choked. "I- huh?" Were you seriously flattering him now? He thought as his face reddened slightly. "That's my name, dumbass."

"You asked me for a name I liked."

Rindou groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "For yourself," he clarified and is met with an "oh". He sat up, turning to face you slightly. "Okay, forget that. Just think of any name, what's the first that comes to mind?"

"Sophie," you replied.

"Great. Do you want that name?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

He stared at you. You stared back. Your blank expression turned into one of worry when Rindou let out a long sigh. "If i I told you this was an order, could you do it?"

"I'm sorry," you spoke softly. "I know what you're trying to make me do, and I really did try. I just don't know why I can't."

His eyes softened visibly—although only a little bit—when he heard the subtle frustration in your tone. "Don't apologize," he said, awkwardly trying to sound comforting. The movie in front of you was long forgotten as Rindou's mind began to wander. Sure, he thought you're being stubborn, but he was too. Why couldn't he just name you? Satisfy the both of you by giving you a name other than LIV, and ending this back and forth for good? Plus, it might not be your fault that you're being stubborn—he was about to find out as he eyed the holo-screen projector on the table.

He waved a hand near it to trigger its sensor, projecting the holo-screen in front of him. With a few taps of his fingers, he typed into the web, "can Aptroids name themselves?"

The very first result caught his eye immediately: "To be named is to be special." Clicking on it gave him all the answers he needed.

An Aptroid cannot name themselves.

An Aptroid must be named by the person in charge of them.

An Aptroid is special when they are personally named.

His jaw tensed, eyebrows furrowed. 'The person in charge of them.'

Technically, he's just your boyfriend, right? Would that be synonymous with being your 'owner' in this case? The idea left a bad taste in his mouth.

Though then again... the day you first called him by his name, he had told you it was an order, and it worked.

Rindou turned to you again, placing a hand on your knee. "Do you belong to me?" He asked, hesitant.

And you nodded.

His head hung low in thought for a moment. "Alright, you want a name from me, right? Can I give you three options and let you pick?"

You perked up at that and it was as if your eyes twinkled. "I'd like that," you said, nodding eagerly this time.

So you picked your name that day. Even though he had to give you options, he's at ease knowing it was your decision in the end. You deserved to pick.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Logan howlett being gross please 🙏🙏

I so badly wanted to answer this all day but I was busy so thanks for your patience!! I may end up writing an actual drabble of him being nasty BUT since it's 10 and I need to be up by 5 am tomorrow I'm gonna give some headcanons out to keep you freaks (lovingly)(im a freak too otherwise i wouldn't be writing this) satisfied. Love you guys <3

if there's anything specific you want me to talk about, feel free to send an ask!

(logan judging me for putting his nastiness out there)

NSFW stuff under the cut. Beware. some of it's gross. :)

Lets start with what I said in that one post

Yes, Logan would fuck himself in every part of you if you let him

personally not big on anal myself but if you guys are down for that, he would definitely like to try it.

I think it's less of getting himself off or being attracted to it, like your elbow or knees

its more of being able to claim you more ways than one, his animalistic instinct REALLY kicks in on this. Scents probably play a part on this

IF you let him do the things he wants, you're gonna get treated SO GOOD afterwards, believe me. Satisfying his urges in the weird ways he gets em? You're an actual fucking angel to him

I've mentioned foot jobs before. I think honestly the foot job is probably what started this whole thing. It's a body part he never considered getting off from. It's until you guys were in your bedroom, hes walking around naked fresh from the shower and you get playful, reaching your feet out and messing with his cock. He was surprised how hard it made him and then when he cums he's like... "Now what else can I get off on?"

I almost mentioned scents. Logans so big on scents yall we established this. You smelling like him, him smelling like you.

When you're a little more settled in your relationship, he may start making comments on how good you smell after workouts, sex, etc. Its the pheromones man

You don't think much until you catch him straight up inhaling your workout clothes one day

He's a bit flustered over it

claims he didn't know what he was doing (he did) and that he was just getting ready to do laundry (he was not) (he went straight to your laundry with the goal of smelling that shit)

PANTY SNIFFER

Loves your panties and bras the most. Definitely will keep your used panties here and there. he does it discreetly, confidently. He's not so ashamed for you to find him sniffing your panties.

Nasty making out. big fan of this

he wants you both practically drooling into each other. can and will spit in your mouth and wants you to do the same

will make out with you with his cum in your mouth. He doesn't like his cum it's just the fact of it's you mixed with him.

He'll love it if you have each others essence and make out like that too.

It's not every time but sometimes he'll just get these urges to make you both messy as hell. spit and cum, hickeys, scratches etc etc

I've also said this before but period sex period sex period sex

He does not fucking care

Makes him a lil wild actually. Might scare you a bit.

If you initially don't want to do it, he'll leave it alone and eventually get needy enough he'll find excuses and then he founds out sex can help relieve periods and he's like

"I'm just tryna make you feel better baby"

When you finally give in his ecstatic

he will def be careful though. He truly doesn't want to hurt you. He's just a needy lil thing for you

Eating. you. out on your period.

I know, it's gross. But so is he.

The first happens on accident. He tastes it while eating you out and immediately recognizes it. he doesn't stop and doesn't tell you

You realize it when he finishes and looks up and his face is covered in blood

quite frankly you're horrified

he didn't care. just goes and washes himself up and you as well.

You're gonna need to change the sheets though. Logans a messy eater

He will eat and drink food from your mouth

you're telling him "oh Lo! Try this pie its SO good-" as you put the fork in your mouth and you're about to give him a piece and feed it to him and he insteads grabs you by the back of your neck and sticks his tongue in your mouth and tastes it that way

It shocks you (and turns you on)

"Yeah baby, it is good." he chuckles as he smacks his lips and walks away leaving you dumbfounded and a bit horny

(you're just like)

will get so nasty about fucking you too like the dirty talking

"Your pussy so fucking tight and wet. Sucking me in and everything."

"You fucking love how I taste don't you? All that cum and sweat. dirty girl."

"my cum tastes good in you baby"

"cmon, taste how good you are darling"

Ive mentioned about him going into a trance after he cums on you

he's cummed inside you and now staring at it leaks out of you

he's pushing it back in and trying to keep it all in you

doesn't even hear you whining over it

he starts spreading it all over you. it just looks so good painted on your pretty pussy

like i said this man adores you and that means ALL of you

will drool during sex

you're just going at it and you guys hit a point where your mindless and fucking

you feel so good and he can't even think straight. acting purely on instinct and you feel his drool on your back. You look back and his mouth is hanging open and his eyes shut and he's thrusting into you over and over, completely contorted in pleasure

lets talk a little about some other stuff

logan keeps up his hygiene of course. brushes teeth. washes his ass. he may consider himself an animal but he's not gonna let himself go. he IS from the 1800s yknow

but he runs like a heater and can and will sweat

esp with all those fucking layers

sweaty dick and balls. nuff said. hope you enjoy that

his natural musk is strong as hell. honestly though to you it'll smell really really good

leaks a lot of precum when he's horny.

his hairs insane though. So much hair. Its' gonna get in your mouth

actually even if hes groomed it's still gonna get in your mouth. he has a lot of hair

Enjoy nasty logan! <3

[itsnesss]

I don't know if you take requests, but since I like your writing language very much, I would love you to write something like this. It seems like something like the reader saying she wants to get pregnant while making love after noticing Hwan Jun Ho's interest in children would be nice.

𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | intimacy (implicit/not overly graphic), emotional vulnerability, discussions of parenthood

word count | 1.5 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

Moonlight filters through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the dimly lit room. Outside, the city continues its course, indifferent, but here, within these four walls, everything feels different. There are no rushes, no worries. It’s just the two of you, trapped in a moment that seems suspended in time.

You feel the weight of his body over yours, his warmth surrounding you, the brush of his skin against yours in a slow, deliberate dance. Every touch, every kiss, every shared breath carries the weight of everything you’ve built together. It’s not just desire, not just need—it’s something deeper, something more meaningful. Something that goes beyond the fleeting passion of a single night.

Your fingers trace down his back, following the contours of his muscles with a light, almost reverent touch. You know that Junho isn’t a man who allows himself to be vulnerable easily, but here, with you, he lets all his walls down. The way he holds you, how he brushes his nose against yours before kissing you again, how he intertwines his fingers with yours as he moves above you—it tells you more than any words ever could.

And then, like a whisper among your thoughts, like a truth that has been waiting to be spoken, the words slip from your lips before you can stop them.

"I want to have a child with you."

Junho tenses slightly but doesn’t stop. His gaze meets yours in the dim light, and in his eyes, there’s more than just surprise. There’s curiosity, tenderness… something you can’t quite decipher.

"Really?" His voice is low, almost a murmur against your skin, as if he doesn’t want to break the atmosphere surrounding you.

You take a breath, feeling your chest rise against his. There’s no doubt in you. It’s something you’ve been feeling for a long time, but only now have you found the words to express it.

"Yes," you answer firmly. "I’ve thought about it a lot. I’ve seen you with children… how you look at them, how you care about them without even realizing it."

He blinks, surprised, but says nothing. You know he’s listening, that he’s processing what you’ve just said.

"When you see a child on the street, you always pause a second longer than necessary," you continue. "When we’re at the park, your attention always drifts toward them. And when you talk about your brother…"

You hesitate because you know mentioning his brother touches a sensitive part of him. But it’s part of what makes him who he is. Part of what has led you to realize what you truly want.

"I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about it," you add softly. "But if you ever wanted to… if you ever desired it, I’d want it to be with you."

Junho exhales, closing his eyes for a moment before resting his forehead against yours. His breath is warm, unsteady, and his hands tighten around your waist.

"I wasn’t expecting to hear something like that tonight," he admits with a low chuckle—not one of mockery, but of disbelief. As if he finds it hard to believe this is real.

"I didn’t plan it," you respond, smiling too. "I just… felt it."

The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable. His fingers trace slow circles on your skin, as if memorizing every detail of you. Then, without saying anything else, he kisses you. It’s a different kiss than before: deeper, more meaningful, more devoted.

And in that kiss, you find your answer.

Time seems to dissolve as you remain wrapped in each other’s warmth. Junho never stops touching you, holding you with the same delicacy one would hold something fragile, precious. Every movement of his carries a new purpose, as if your words have shifted something inside him. As if something has settled in his heart.

His face is partially hidden in the curve of your neck when he murmurs, his voice husky, "I never thought of myself as a father."

You slide your hands into his hair, running your fingers through his dark strands with tenderness.

"And now?"

He sighs, his lips brushing against your collarbone before lifting his gaze to meet yours.

"I don’t know," he admits. "But if it ever happens… I can’t imagine anyone but you."

Your heart pounds at his words. It’s not an absolute statement, not an immediate promise, but you understand. Junho isn’t someone who rushes into things. He needs time to process, to internalize. But the fact that he hasn’t rejected the idea, that he’s considering it, means more than you can express in this moment.

"That’s enough for me," you whisper.

He gives a small, lopsided smile, and with one last kiss to your forehead, he lets your bodies find that shared rhythm again, allowing the moment to envelop you completely.

Later, when sleep begins to claim you and Junho still holds you in his embrace, you break the silence once more.

"If we had a child… what name would you like to give them?"

You feel his chest shake with a low, drowsy chuckle.

"Are we already picking names?"

"I’m just curious."

He stays quiet for a moment, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.

"If it’s a girl… I’d like her to have a strong name. Something that makes her stand out."

"And if it’s a boy?"

Junho falls silent, and for a moment, you think he has fallen asleep. But then, his voice comes in a whisper, as if he’s testing the sound of the idea in his own mind.

"Maybe something in honor of my brother."

Your chest tightens with a mix of emotion and tenderness. You don’t push him to say more—you don’t want to force him to keep talking if he doesn’t want to. Instead, you snuggle closer against him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you.

And as sleep finally pulls you under, a soft smile graces your lips. Because even though the future is still uncertain, even though Junho needs time to process everything you talked about tonight, there is one thing you know with absolute certainty:

If that moment ever comes… he would be an incredible father.

And there’s no one else in the world you’d rather share that future with.

[macsimagines]

I know they didn't win that recent poll, but could I still request some headcanons for bully!Kazutora and bully!Koko? (and if you're feeling really nice, Rindou too)

Love your work, thank you for writing! ❤

obviously these won't be as long as Mikey's but I'll still try to make it good thank you for being patient.

MINORS DNI WARNINGS: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, STALKING, THREATENING, BLACKMAIL, NONCON, DUBCON, BULLYING

KAZUTORA HANEMIYA

This creep has been pulling on your braids and knocking you over on the playground ever since you two were kids. Back then it was an innocent crush but after he got put into juvie it morphed into something desperate.

When he gets back he is at his most vulnerable and unstable. He needs you more than ever and he is NOT taking no for an answer. Kazutora tries to be nice at first, but that lasts all of one hour when you don't start reciprocating.

Then he tries a more direct approach. "Look, Y/N, you don't want to go back to the way things used be, right? After all, I'm much bigger now, and I don't even know my own strength. I'd hate to hurt you if we go back to playing rough. Lets start brand new~?"

It actually works because you remember how crazy he was before he was put away, you can't imagine what he's like now. You just learn to play nicely, and Kazutora eventually rewards you for it.

"Think it's time we made us official?"

KOKONOI HAJIME

You were just someone he used to make himself feel better. It could have been something you said, it could have been something you laughed at, hell you could have just looked at him wrong! All that mattered was that you were his 'Special-stupid-pet'.

Somedays were bearable. Maybe a pinch on your ass once during class and a few name calling in the hall. On other days it was hell on earth. Backing you into a corner and saying whatever you want him to.

"You're the smartest, Koko. You're the best. Of course you can keep me safe."

If you don't say it right (You never do) he will physically punish you. Cigarette burns, slight choking and bruising. One particularly bad day he made you hand over your panties before school. "Give me something so I don't get lonely."

But you're his pet, so only he is allowed to torture you anyone else will be getting jumped by a few Black Dragon's.

RINDOU HAITANI

Ok so you started hanging around through a friend of a friend, and Rindou was smitten with you. He tried not to make it too obvious but you spoke back and forth so easy with him that it just felt right. Until some other asshole tried to pull you away from him.

Sure, maybe kicking someone's ass on the first night he met you wasn't smart but at least he was trying to stake a claim on you. It could be romantic. He thinks it is...

From then on he's all over you whenever you're around. Other guys know better than to talk to you and even your friends are starting to be scared off the second he corners you. And it's not like you can just say to going anytime you find out Rindou is going to be there. He jus throws a huge fit and your friends complain your ear off about it.

Its not so bad. Until he starts drinking and getting handsy and needier with you. Refusing to let you walk ten feet without him, Demanding you stop looking at your phone and start giving him attention.

Its unspoken but you don't get to say no. He won't ever take anything too far but he makes sure you and everyone else knows how he feels about you. Whether or not he realizes you don't feel the same way.

[judasgot-it]

Dr Ratio x Reader

Dr Ratio tries to teach y/n basic algebra (and cries doing so, they are just that stupid)

"You do what's in the parenthesis first,"

This was too hard.

With great regret, you had asked Dr. Ratio to help you with understanding algebra. You didn't even really care for the subject that much, but apparently you had to understand it in order to learn the cooler math. Which sucked - why couldn't you just do the interesting stuff first? This doesn't really seem related to anything, honestly.

But according to him, this was a basic foundation of mathematics.

Which sucked. It was so stupid. Why were there letters in this? You were pretty sure math is about numbers.

How does x even equal a number? You wouldn't know, because you were stuck on this problem for over twenty minutes now.

This was question 3 on the quiz he gave you. A simple one. He just wanted to go over the basics he had lectured you about. Which left you stuck in the same seat you had watched him lecture from, your ass already sore from sitting for so long. Unfortunately, freedom was far away as you got completely lost on how to solve any of these problems.

5(x+1)=2(x-5)-6

You tried to subtract the 1 out of the parenthesis, to bring it to the other side. This was how it's done, right?

Looking up, you saw his mask covering his face. So you didn't know if you were doing what you should be. So you just kept going.

Somehow you got 1/5.

That probably wasn't the right answer. But whatever.

Dr. Ratio was making weird noises at this point. He loomed over you, his abs almost hitting the top of your head as he watched - once in a while his thigh would hit the back of your chair, reminding you of whatever thought process he had. However he saw what you were doing from underneath that mask, you just knew he was judging you.

Carefully, you focused on the next problem.

The seething professor behind you hadn't allowed you to use a calculator - according to him, it was far too easy. Something one can easily do in their head.

It felt a little more embarassing to have to do the subtraction on the side. You don't remember 54-12 off of the top of your head, and you weren't a math god. So you had to do this each time. The side of your paper was riddled with lines that broke down or added numbers.

"That's not right."

He placed his hand on your shoulder, leaning down even further as he took his other hand and scrutinized the paper in front of him. The mask on his face brushed against your head, and it was unexpected - it didn't feel cold nor warm, simply just room temperature. It wasn't as hard as stone either.

"I thought the point of a quiz was for me to figure it out, not the teacher."

There was no point in arguing with him though. You were tired and your hand hurt.

"You can't even figure it out. At this point, this is a form of torture," The way he said that made it sound as if he was in more pain than you.

"Did you listen to anything that I had said?"

"Yeah." No the fuck you did not.

"None of your answers should be fractions. You also can't even follow the order of operations."

"I did the parenthesis like you said-"

"You just keep doing addition and subtraction. Not even well, since you make very simple mistakes."

You looked to where he was pointing; 39+42=71. That looked pretty correct to you.

"That's right though?"

"No. No, it's not. You missed an entire ten. It's 81," he sighed as he said this as if talking to a stupid child, curt but not able to truly express how he felt. Maybe he was justified in that response.

"Oh." You didn't know how he got that answer, but he was certainly right. Oops.

"You can't do algebra since you can't even do the basics. Do you even know how to multiply?"

"Yeah, I can-"

"Without a calculator. With double digits,"

He had taken off his mask, placing it to the side as he really started to scrutinize you; the hair on his forehead stuck to his skin slightly, having one bang that stubbornly clung to his nose and batting close to his eyelashes. The man even took a seat next to you, his eyes looking at yours and then back to the paper. As if he was in disbelief.

You could only shake your head. This was hard, and you could feel the frustration build up in your eyes as he only looked and scrutinized your paper further.

"You need to learn the basics again."

"This is the basics, right?"

"No. You can't even multiply or divide. That is elementary."

In shame, you put down your pencil and tried to hide your face behind your hands. You were never going to be able to do the cool math, were you? Like how to calculate the burger number. That's the cool math.

You heard the pencil be picked up by another hand, one that is a little too close to you - Dr. Ratio's shoulder brushed against yours, his bare and slutty arm taking up more than enough of your personal space.

"Let's go over this next problem. I'll explain it as you go along."

He was already giving you tips while you did the quiz, but that's fine. You have already dug yourself into a pit of shame and despair as you failed to do, apparently, basic math. So what would be one more embarrassing failure?

Taking the pen from his rather warm hand, you went back too it.

"So, how would you start this problem?"

At this point, his finger was just pointing at hieroglyphs. The letters with the numbers made it rather hard to comprehend what you were looking at.

"The parenthesis."

"There is no parenthesis in this," he frowned at you, continuing his streak of major disappointment. "Order of operations, PEMDAS, so what is your next step?"

"...multiply?"

"0 points. You do the exponents."

"So, the x with the little two."

You were sure that he blanked out on that one. His face had fallen into a strange expression, as if he had seen shadows move in his peripheral vision, as if he were followed by shadow people; a sort of pre-horror look.

"You do know what x squared means, correct?"

"How does x become a square? I still don't get that."

His face morphed into something else. Frustration, shock, agony. It could mean a lot of things, but his reaction was so strong you could taste it.

"You don't know what exponents are, do you?"

"...no."

You would think he would have understood this given how you were apparently bad at everything else. But it looked like you had slapped him and kicked his dog, from the look he gave you.

"By aeons what do you know!?"

"...1+1?"

He slammed his hands against the table. Your pencil rolled away from you from the shockwave, hitting the floor with a clatter as Ratio made loud facial expressions from underneath his hands. It looked as if he were a Shakespearian character who had been stabbed in the heart.

His breaths were heavy, his chest heaving with every attempt. One of his amber eyes peaked at you from underneath his slender fingers, staring at you as if you were a stubborn puzzle that did not wish to be solved.

There was something he wanted to say, but instead there was only a small noise that came from his throat. The stare he gave you could shatter glass.

"Are you okay, professor?"

He shook his head. The man turned to look at nothing, his face cradled in the palm of his hand.

"I have never met anyone like you."

That wasn't a compliment. But you were going to take it as one. That's the best you could do in this situation, honestly.

The man put his head down onto the table, one of his hands threading through his hair. You reached your hand out to his shoulder, patting him lightly in order to comfort.

You didn't see it, but there were tears pooling around his eyes, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself down.

Authors note: I don't know what this is, I'm just trying to grasp ratios character. If it's OOC then that's cause i haven't even gotten to penachony yet.

Also the burger number is real it's called whopper and was literally named after the burger King sandwich. The more you know.

[laurelwen]

Sorry, it's me again. There's this thing that has been...whispering in the back of mind since I read this post for the first time. Nigel wrote: "... I removed a rat's heart and pretended to be disgusted" Why on earth would he feel the necessity to PRETEND to be disgusted in front of Alex?

I've taken a minute to answer this because it's a very good question but difficult and complicated to answer within the context of the film. For those who aren't sure what you're referring to, please see this post transcribing Nigel's notes.

The short answer is: I don't think the people making the props were entirely consistent with the character as scripted. I think most likely they were given some general directives (such as "make sure it highlights the words "egocentric megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur") Outside those few directives, they just sort of let their poetic license run free, injecting their own ideas of a what a "fucked up weird guy who dissects animals" would say into the text, and creating a different version of Nigel than the movie presents us with. The worst example of that is the newspaper article in Alex's book--which doesn't make ANY sense in the context of the film. No one really expected crazy fans to obsessively pause the movie and use photo enhancing techniques frame by frame to determine what was written in his journals or the text of the article, so I think there was a lot of leeway and perhaps some laziness when it came to the props.

It's hard for me to come up with an IN character justification for Nigel to have written that, because it doesn't gel with my observations of him as presented in the film. The journal entry itself is written before he is kidnapped by Alex and the dynamic of their relationship shifts. This IS the entry that made Alex angry enough to kidnap him and teach him a lesson in the first place. This is the Nigel who barely responds to Alex's confrontational anger over the dissection in the dorm room, the Nigel who seems to be completely unmoved by or even very aware of how his actions might impact others. He doesn't care enough to even consider what effect he has on others, and even if/when he is aware, I sincerely doubt he'd bother to *pretend* anything. Nigel doesn't seem interested in pretending to be anything other than what he is, a defining trait that causes him a lot of problems.

Later in the movie, Nigel does shift a bit into a more puckish role. He fucks with Alex in a variety of ways, very noticeably in the train scene when they're going to visit his secret room. He's playful, mischievously antagonistic, poking and prodding Alex and seeming to enjoy his discomfort. This demeanor is more in line with the kind of guy who might write about deliberately messing with his roommate's head. But I still don't know why he would feign disgust in the middle of the dissection given that he's been dissecting animals regularly and Alex would have no reason to think he's grossed out by it.

I suppose if we apply that puckish attitude backward and say that Nigel was already trying to mess with Alex even before the kidnapping, we could sort of squint our eyes and imagine him being very over the top Fake Disgusted as he waves the heart around in Alex's direction. I still don't find that very likely, but it's the best I've got.

If you wanted to, you could use this as part of a theory that Nigel was the real instigator all along and had been intending/planning to manipulate Alex from the moment he was transferred to the school and forced to share a room. In such a reading of the film, all of his behavior could be seen as pretense in some way, including his initial lack of reaction to Alex--calculated to rile Alex up, put him off balance, etc.

I don't personally buy in to that interpretation, just as I don't buy into Alex being the sole instigator. I think either reading ascribes far too much power and control to these teenagers, however intelligent and manipulative they may be. But if you want to go that route, here's a supporting piece to add to your puzzle.

Thanks for the ask and I hope this rambling mess makes at least some sense!

EDIT: please read my reblog of this post. @silhioutte pointed out the very obvious mis-read of this line.

[Like Minds Masterpost - Main]

[bullet-prooflove]

Request for Wes Mitchell please ❤️

"Still, I don't let go And fields of flowers grow"

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mckinleysbones @district447 @witchygagirl @cosmosnkaz

Prequel piece to:

One Night - Wes asks if he can stay the night while he finds a place in Budapest.

Think About It - Wes asks you to think about his offer.

Push - Wes realises he's pushed you too hard.

Broken - Wes doesn't think you're broken.

Demons - Wes has his own demons.

Night Calls - Wes always calls you at night.

It’s been a couple of years since the night you and Wes spent the night together. Wes, he’s had plenty of great sex before but he’s never made love, not until you. It’s all he can think about as he sits in the back row at the LA Law Enforcement Conference and watches you up on that stage, discussing International Policing Tactics and the role of Fly Teams throughout Europe. It’s interesting stuff but his focus isn’t on your words, it’s on whether he’s just caught a glimpse of silver on that wedding finger.

By the end of the session he still can’t tell, it’s the bane of sitting in the nosebleeds, he doesn’t get to see everything he wants to. It shouldn’t matter, he tells himself, after all he’s still with Ella but the thought of you married to another guy, it twists him up inside.

He thinks about approaching you at the drinks reception but his phone has been vibrating up a storm in his pocket, Ella is on a tirade because she found the conference leaflet on his nightstand and she knows you’re one of the speakers.

He’s been difference since that night, he knows it and so does she. Right now he’s just going through the motions, maintaining the status quo even though he knows this thing between the two of them hasn’t been good in a while. The fighting is getting worse, there’s mistrust on both sides. He can’t forgive her, she can’t forgive him.

What is this all for? He questions himself on a regular basis.

Deep down he knows the answer. Wes, he’s terrified of something real because if it goes bad that’s something he will never recover from. It’s a Catch 22 because he craves it so viscerally, it makes his chest physically hurt everytime he lays eyes on you.

His phone buzzes in his jacket, drawing his attention away as some silver fox hands you a drink. He focuses on the way the other man touches you, a light palm on your lower back as he whispers in your ear. It feels like a gut punch, like everything is wrong and he can’t seem to figure out how to fix it.

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter…

But it does, it really fucking does.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[egg-emperor]

Eggman is a CARTOON. He doesn't exist in reality. Anyone who is actually sexually attracted to cartoon is pathetic , cringe and needs serious mental health services. Kinks deserve to be shamed.

I like sonic for the gameplay and lore, I'm not pathetic enough to be sexually attracted to cartoons. People like you are the reason why I hate the fandom,always thirsting over ink and polygons, the furries , and the weirdoes making cringe ships. Like how pathetic do you have to be to be legitimately sexually attracted to a cartoon, especially some of which aren't even human (and are underage) ?

The closest real life equivalent to Eggman would be the dictator of north korea cross-bred with Elon Musk. Would you really be willing to date/fuck such a manchild?

this is a funny troll or experiment or whatever that you've been trying lol. I can tell it there isn't genuine serious feeling in it but it's just entertaining when you're this secure and comfortable with yourself. plus I get to say something funny and possibly inspire others not to care if they get asks like this- and I can just stop answering when I get bored :P

one of the things that makes me so comfortable and secure in myself is because I'm in touch with reality. I'm aware of what's real and what's not and what matters and doesn't. funnily enough, some of what you're saying would mean you can't, if you were being serious but I'm certain you're not. being in touch with reality is why I have the self awareness and self acceptance I have

I don't care about being the reason someone hates the fandom, I'm also a reason some like it and that's what I focus on. I also don't care about being shamed for weirdo shit like shipping and kink. unless I'm causing genuine harm it doesn't matter :P I'd rather be hated and happy than liked and miserable. I don't need people's approval and permission to follow my passions and be happy

Eggman is a problematic evil fucked up manchild but I find that entertaining and he's extremely sexy because he's a fictional character that causes no real life harm and he's very handsome and suits my type in real life appearance wise and certain more positive aspects of his personality, as well as things I enjoy and endorse only in fiction and fantasies. the only things in common he has with real people I'm attracted to is that he's an old man and passionate and charming lol

fiction is fun and allows you to explore things that make you feel many ways and explore subjects you never could or should in real life and explore the minds of characters different to you. it's great to be creative and imaginative. it's good to fantasize and feel pleasure, it's not a shameful thing and if conservatives and puritans or anyone else who is ashamed want to deprive themselves of those joys and pleasures in life they can but they're not gonna succeed in making me do the same

I love this sexy fucked up problematic evil dictator manchild, I'm gonna keep talking about fucking and sucking him and vice versa and you can't stop me >:)

[c4tluver02]

Family Video

a/n: haiiii this is my very first pic ive everrrrr written so im sorry if its awful and boring!!!!! if there's anything I can improve on pls let me know!! also id love any requests you guys have! <333 enjoy

summery: after just moving to Hawkins you decided a movie is in order. but when looking for a movie you notice the boy at the counter just can't stop staring at you!

no warnings!

wc: 1k

All Steve could do was roll his eyes. Robin went on a date with Vickie last night and it was simply all she could talk about.  

“Robin of course she likes you, she asked you on the date. Vickie wouldn't do that if she didn't mean it.” Steve says somewhat listening in and out of what feels like hours long of the same topic. 

“Well this isn't something I can mess up, I mean what if I was too forward or I rambled I mean you know I can ramble!” 

Steve sighs as he puts tapes back into their spot after they had been returned. “Listen Rob, I can promise you VIckie likes you for you and your rambling. There's nothing you need to be worried about.” He says trying to end this conversation and get back to working in peace.

Truth be told Steve was having trouble in the dating department. If you would have told King Steve that he would have trouble even holding a conversation with girls he wouldn't believe you. Yet here he was listening to everyone tell him their love life and him having nothing to say back.

“Steve you don't get it VIckie is perfect in every sense of the word. I mean what if-” Robin gets cut off as the bell above the door rings signaling a new customer and Steve couldn't be more thankful.

You walked in feeling eyes on you, almost like you had interrupted a conversation. You walk towards the comedy section in hopes of finding something interesting to fill your weekend with.

As you start to look around, you feel a pair of eyes on you. When you look up you notice the boy at the counter swiftly turning his head the other way. You smile to yourself at his attempt of making it look like he wasn't staring. You then walk to the drama aisle. You're not really sure what type of movie you're looking for but it's almost as if the counter boy can read your mind. 

“Hey, um, is there anything you need help with?” Steve says with a kind smile on his face as he walks over to you. 

“Hi! Yes, actually some help would be great. I am not really sure what movie to watch.. Do you have any, uh, suggestions?” You say not sounding as confident now that the cute boy is standing right in front of you 

Steve's eyes lit up at the request, the thought of being helpful to such a pretty girl had his heart pounding. 

“Of course, do you have any genres of movie you like?” Steve asks, trying to learn any bit of information he could about you.

“I definitely like romance movies, comedy, horror, and drama of course I guess I'm not really picky when it comes to genres.” It wasn't until you noticed that you and Steve were both completely stopped in the middle of the aisle that you probably could have just said comedy and he could have found a movie no problem. Steve didn't mind your long answer though, he liked that you were so open to talk. He guides you both to the comedy section and pulls out a movie. 

“Ok we have this movie, it just came out and we've gotten great consumer reviews on it” He says with a smile that's probably a little too wide for just helping a customer pick out a movie. 

You look at the movie he's picked and it happens to be one you've seen before but you don't have the heart to tell him that. He looks proud to give you a good recommendation along with his help so you take the movie from his hands and smile at him.

“Perfect! I probably would have been looking in here forever trying to find something without your help!” you say with a smile not really wanting this conversation to end.

It almost seems like Steve doesn't either, or maybe you just aren't good at hiding your emotions as he says 

“Hey uh, how come I haven't seen you around here before?” Steve says hoping he's not coming off too forward the last thing he wanted to do was scare you away. 

You stand in front of him with wide eyes not knowing exactly what to say. You knew this town was small and being new will probably have a few others asking why they didn't know of you. 

“Oh, I just moved here about a week ago. I am just trying to scope out some places and I thought a movie night would be comforting.” You say as you twirl your hair in your hands, a nervous habit you have. 

Steve nods wishing he could ask you a million more questions. There was something so intriguing about you. He wants to know where you lived before coming here, or better yet why you decided to move here out of all the places. Trying to come off nonchalant and cool, Steve pops the question that you weren't expecting. 

“Anyone helping you move, friend, or maybe boyfriend?” Steve looks at you with big eyes and a calm demeanor trying to pull out his King Steve persona even though his night will be utterly ruined if the answer isn't no. 

You blush lightly at his question but just enough for Steve to notice. “Nope, no boyfriend helping. I moved out here alone so packing has been slower for sure.” You say you are trying to sound cool despite the fact you are single and have no clue what you are doing moving and starting a new life all on your own.

Steve's shoulders release a tension he didn't even know he was holding. A breath of relief comes out right and as Steve opens his mouth to say something back-

“Hey are you ready to check out?” Robin says walking up to you guys noticing you have a movie picked out. 

You look between her and Steve blinking as reality comes crashing down on you. This guy has a job and she probably needs him to get back to it. Not standing here talking to you for forever. You walk up to the counter and see that Steve is gonna be the one checking you out. 

You pay for the movie as you and Steve sit in a comfortable silence. Before you leave you thank him.

“Thanks for all you help… Steve?” You say reading out his name tag on his vest.  

But Steve just loves the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. He wishes you could say it again. It’s as if an angel just spoke to him. Your eyes, your hair, your smile, it's all perfection. He can't believe that someone so perfect is right in front of him. Like cupid shot him directly in the heart. As you blink in front of him waiting for a response he finally answers. 

“Yea.. Steve! And if you want to come back and let us know what you thought of the movie you're more than welcome to!” Steve says with excitement blowing his nonchalant cover a bit. 

You gleam at his invitation even though you both know you'll have to come back to return the movie anyways. Yet you don't mention it or try to mess with him about it. You simply smile and nod.

“Got it, I'll be back soon for the review!” You say as you grin from ear to ear just by looking at the boy in front of you as you open the door to leave. 

Once you get in your car Steve turns around and sighs. Robin looks directly at him with eyes squinted and a smirk.

“What?” Steve asks confused with her stare

“I saw you have heart eyes for her..” Robin says, poking him in his shoulder repeatedly. 

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes pushing her hand away, “I was just helping out a customer buckley. Can a man not do that?” He bites back sarcastically.

“Mhm sure, I guess so.” Robin says back with a smirk on her face as Steve turns around knowing this isn't just some customer.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: "Lesson Learned"

You were feeling feisty tonight, pushing every single one of Marshall’s buttons just because you could. It had started small—little comments here and there, a smart remark when he asked you to hand him something, an exaggerated sigh when he told you to come sit next to him on the couch.

At first, he let it slide, rolling his eyes and smirking at your antics. But you kept pushing. It was one of those nights where you just wanted to get a rise out of him, test your limits, see how far you could go before he reminded you exactly who you were dealing with.

And you were getting dangerously close to that point.

"Can you quit running your mouth for two seconds?" he finally muttered, rubbing his temples as he leaned back in his chair.

You smirked, stretching your legs out across the coffee table. "Oh, what’s wrong, baby? Can’t handle a little attitude?"

His jaw clenched, his blue eyes darkening as he looked at you. "You really wanna test me right now?"

You shrugged, biting back a grin. "Maybe."

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You got a real bad habit of pushing me when you know I ain't gonna let that slide, don't you?"

You shrugged again, knowing exactly what you were doing. You could feel the tension in the room shift, thickening, and a shiver ran down your spine. You knew better than to push him too far… but you were having way too much fun.

"Maybe I just like seeing you worked up," you teased, tilting your head. "Maybe I think it’s cute when you get all serious."

Marshall let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it. More like a warning.

"Alright," he said, standing up slowly. "You wanna act like a brat? You wanna play games?"

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a little less bold as he walked toward you, his presence alone making your breath hitch.

"You must’ve forgotten," he murmured, reaching down to grab your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look up at him. His voice was low, rough, sending a thrill through your entire body.

"I don’t play games," he continued. "And I don’t take orders from my bratty little wife."

Your breath hitched, your skin tingling under his touch. You bit your lip, trying to keep up the act, but the way he was looking at you—like he was ready to put you back in your place—made it nearly impossible.

"You done testing me now?" he asked, his grip tightening just enough to make your stomach flip.

You hesitated for a second too long.

Marshall smirked, shaking his head. "Nah, I don’t think you are."

And just like that, you knew—you had pushed him just far enough to get exactly what you wanted.

You barely had time to process the shift before Marshall was pulling you up from the couch, his grip firm but controlled. Your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation thrumming through your veins. You had wanted this—you had asked for this with every little smirk, every bratty remark, and now?

Now, you were about to get exactly what you deserved.

Marshall pulled you close, his voice a low murmur against your ear. "You sure you wanna keep running that mouth, baby?"

You swallowed hard, but your stubborn streak wouldn’t let you back down just yet. "I don’t know," you mused, tilting your head, pretending to consider it. "You gonna do something about it?"

His chuckle was dark, amused but laced with something deeper—something that made your stomach tighten in the best way. "You really don’t know when to quit, do you?"

You didn’t answer, just let your lips curve into a knowing smirk.

Marshall sighed, shaking his head. "Alright," he muttered, gripping your waist before flipping you around, pressing your front against the cool surface of the kitchen counter.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t fight it. Instead, you let your fingers curl against the countertop, bracing yourself for whatever was coming next.

"You want my attention so bad?" he murmured, his voice dangerously smooth. "Now you got it."

And damn, you were in for it.

Your breath caught as Marshall’s hands settled on your waist, his grip firm, commanding. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the weight of his presence pressing against you even though he hadn’t truly done anything yet.

"You push me like this, and then what?" His voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge to it. A warning. "You think I won’t remind you who you’re dealing with?"

A shiver ran through you, but you weren’t about to give in so easily. You had started this little game, and you weren’t backing down now.

"Maybe I just like seeing you try," you taunted, voice breathy but laced with challenge.

Marshall let out a slow, dark chuckle. "Yeah?" His fingers tightened slightly, pulling you back just enough that his breath ghosted over the side of your neck. "That right?"

You swallowed hard, but the smug smirk was still on your lips. "Mhm."

Marshall exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "You got a real bad habit of testing my patience, baby." His voice was nothing but gravel now, thick with something deeper.

His hands trailed up your arms, slow, deliberate, as if he was letting you feel every second of tension you’d built between you. You could feel his restraint, the way he was holding himself back just enough to make you squirm.

"You done yet?" he asked, his voice a whisper against your ear.

You hesitated. Just for a second.

And that second was all he needed.

"Didn’t think so," he murmured, before spinning you around to face him. His blue eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, but his grip remained steady, grounding. "Guess I’ll just have to fix that, huh?"

You barely had time to nod before he did exactly that.

[violasghost]

The Exes and Oh’s of Chenford-The Rookie 7x06 Review

So, they went there! I wasn’t sure if they would. With past history, was kind of thinking it would be a tease and maybe there would be a kiss and then one of them would get cold feet and poof, we’d have to be tortured for a while longer. But guess now that they did cross that bridge, I’m kind of experiencing mixed emotions as a result.

On the one hand, Chenford is sizzling! I mean c’mon, everyone can see it. Hell, even my mom who is a casual viewer walked in the room when the gala scene was on and happened to notice Chenford and questioned off handedly when she saw them acting awkwardly around one another, ‘I thought they were a couple?’ in reference to Lucy and Tim.

And honestly, that said, Exes aside, they really do act like a couple, do they not? If a casual bystander were to observe them leaning in speaking to one another or intimately gazing across the room, they would likely assume they were an item or at the very minimum, very close. So, packing that little observation aside—we still have our purple elephant in the room. The thing they dare never to speak of the big reason for the breakup. Don’t know why its so taboo. I’m hoping this will be explored down the line, and the writers have not decided to gloss over everything and just treat them like two horny exes, since we still don’t have any answers as to really—why? (Other than, perhaps it may have brought it more ratings because it creates more drama and added bonus-drives the Chenford fans nuts.)

I think what frustrates me (and it’s not just this episode, this has been building slowly over time) and don't get me wrong, I did appreciate the many lovely intimate moments between Lucy and Tim and Melissa and Eric did not disappoint in the slightest (they did phenomenal with the material they were given), but the part that is missing, that has always been missing, is communication. They had a few opportunities to open up and maybe even dive a bit into the postmortem of their relationship. Like at the ‘Turn in your Ex’ booth. The writers could have easily cut out one of the many ‘grumpy Tim’ clips in lieu of one heartfelt admission from either Lucy or Tim about something they were feeling they felt short on when they were a couple, even if it was something funny/annoying about what they thought about the other. Then they get to the surveillance van, another close intimate moment—and another opportunity missed for some kind of personal admission of true feelings; and when Lucy is sipping the glass of wine at the Gala and they have a moment to kind of reflect and pause and still, nada about their personal feelings, and then lastly it’s the morning after and they both walk away awkwardly—yeah I get it was weird and they are both afraid to go there, but someone’s gotta crack (my money’s on Tim doing it first btw).

There were heaps and tons of longing looks, angst, all that. So much I almost wonder where was this Tim and Lucy in S6 when they were quarrelling all the time? S7E6 version of Tim and Lucy was flirty, sexy, and had chemistry off the charts (chemistry has never been their problem), but as far as talking about their feelings go, I’m sorry but Chenford gets a big fat ‘F’ from moia. There has been no improvement since their breakup and really no resolution or growth shown to prove they are ready for Chenford 2.0. (SPOLER CHAT: Wasn’t there an interview awhile ago from Eric saying Tim was doing the work and going to therapy or something?) Maybe that’s still coming up, but this really needs to be shown, and I think this needs to 100% be his focus if he ever wants to have a chance of getting back with Lucy. And honestly, I think our girl Lucy needs to own up to her feelings too and stop hiding behind what’s comfortable and safe and confront it head on. I still have hope for our star-crossed duo, but I think they have to get their sh*t together first. They can both pretend that they are focusing on their careers or whatever, but they both have some growing up to do emotionally and mentally if they ever want to be in a real adult partnership and relationship.

Taking a step back, I truthfully go back and forth on the better scenario, because although I do like the other characters, I’m sorry but Nolan and Bailey got married what less than a year ago and their romantic scenes are pretty much non-existent at this point, so perhaps allowing Lucy and Tim to play in the kiddie pool is a good thing, for now? I mean some of what they are doing appears pretty immature for where they were couple-wise, but they are getting a lot more action and screen time this way. I guess we as the Chenford-nation can’t always get everything we want. But we are getting lots of sexy time and angst. And when we want more, we just turn to fan fiction, right? 😉

For the other characters, my heart went out to Miles. He really did try his best to be honorable and be there for his girl. I hope he finds someone soon. Actually, I kind of saw a small spark between Miles and Celina, not sure if anyone else saw that but they might be kind of cute together, no?

I did like Nolan and Bailey having a rare fight. It was refreshing to see the perfect couple with flaws. Kinda feel for Nolan on that one though, but also Bailey since she was the one who had to deal with her psychopathic ex. I think Nolan was smothering her though, making her stay at Lucy’s place and all. It was her way of having her own power, so it was understandable. And yey-Jason’s dead, end of that storyline, so even better. Thanks Malvado!

I love Wesley and Angela but Wesley dude, needed to relax a bit about the detective, man Wesley was really obsessed with that guy. Yeah, he admitted he had sexual fantasies about Wesley’s wife but it was in the confidence of his therapist and Wesley has to trust Angela to know she wouldn’t act on it and Angela is totally capable of defending herself. Anyhow, stupid macho behavior IMO.

Looking forward to next week. Also really hope when Tim tells Nolan “Don’t screw up like I did with Lucy,” that maybe not right away but at some point, Nolan tells Tim back that, “It’s never too late.”

And just cause I couldn’t resist, leaving the below gif here too because Viva la Chenford! <3