#like lmao what was the last straw to burn down the office

[o-hora-o]

~One year~

~She~got~just~a~teeny~bit ~angry~

#anti entropy #frederica nikola tesla #to this day I desperately wish there were extra chapters about few years prior 1955 #im sure the time when tesla was working for edison is a pure comedy #like lmao what was the last straw to burn down the office #or how she met planck for the first time #and what about erwin being in the rehab for 2 years #honkaimpact3rd #honkai impact #honkai impact 3rd #hi3

[reiderwriter]

Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #cm writing challenge

[red-writes]

Career oriented 

Escort! Bakugou x Reader

Your entire life you've been focused solely on your career, you've sacrificed a lot      of things, people and time to get where you are and it’s paid off, now you're a millionaire who is also a virgin and never had a boyfriend in their life. Your friend recommends you a male escort service. At first you hire him to go on dates and do other things couples do but the relationship develops far beyond what you could've imagined, now you're laying under him begging him to be your first. 

cw: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, reader is a capitalist lmao, I mean reader is a virgin but its not rlly virginity loss bc its not focused around that but reader does lose her virginity, unedited (but what's new)

a/n: I mean we always hear abt sugar daddies, I need rich reader pls also- monoma is a rich bitch y'all can't fight me on this he got that rich bitch mentality.

The words ‘hard worker’ were understatements when it came to describing you. Pretty much all of your life was spent working, growing your small business with your own two hands. Now money was never an issue. A huge house with several bathrooms, fancy bags and cars, all the things you've ever wanted were now in your possession except maybe one thing. Seeing happy couples holding hands as they walked around in the park, kissing and calling each other pet names, seeing them stirred a feeling of longing inside of you. 

While it’s true that now you'd never want for anything else in your life, you still wanted something money couldn't buy you, love.

 A small tap to your shoulder brought you out of your daze.

“Your eggs are going to get cold..” Todoroki mentioned and you gave him a small smile before prodding your fork in the perfectly scrambled egg. 

“Hey, don't tell me you're thinking about that shareholders meeting this week” Monoma groans and you shake your head.

“Then what is it?” Momo wondered as she wiped her mouth with her napkin. 

“It’s just- you guys all have someone you know romantically” you say as you rest your fork on the plate, deciding that you weren't really in the mood to eat anymore. 

Monoma scoffs, “Yeah barely...I almost broke up with shinso after that last stunt he pulled in the club” 

Momo giggles, “You're still with him?” 

His face dusts pink in embarrassment as he looks away, “A-anyway, why don't you try getting an escort” Monoma recommends and it was your turn for your face to warm. 

“An e-escort?! You do realize who we are right? If someone in here were to hear us talk about such a thing..” Momo whisper-yells and Todoroki’s eyebrow quirks up

“We all know I met Izuku through a sugar daddy website though-”

You clear your throat, “I’m not necessarily looking for you know..sex...just maybe someone to spend time with Monoma” You clarify and he's rummaging through his pockets to find his phone, he fiddles with it before showing you what the site looks like.

“Duh, escorts just get paid for their time not necessarily sex, I’ll send you the link to the website” He tells you and you sigh thoughtfully, if that was really the case then it wouldn't be so wrong to hire some cute eye candy right? 

Momo waves over the waiter, “We’ll have the check please”

“Certainly ma'am” 

+

You sat at your office’s desk with the website pulled up. You'd triple checked to make sure your door was locked, you still had a reputation to uphold as the CEO of your company, you'd be traumatized if one of your employees saw you hiring an escort. 

You scrolled through the many many options of guys. Each profile consisted of a headshot of the escort along with a bio that consisted of maybe a paragraph and . You really couldn't find anyone that suited your tastes personally, until your mouse hovered over a blonde guy. 

His bio was notably shorter than everyone else’s and in his picture he looked mean, eyebrows furrowed and red eyes staring menacingly at you and yet you found yourself clicking the ‘hire!’ button next to his name. Even though he looked like his favorite hobby was stealing candy from a baby, but his looks (as shallow as that may seem) were really speaking to you and the you between your legs if you were honest.

Bakugou Katsuki huh..well he seemed worth a try. 

+

You had been through countless scenarios were you were rightfully terrified. 

Being on a date had to be the scariest out of all of them.

Bakugou was sitting in front of you, he stirred his straw around in his coffee and looked at you while you struggled to contain the rabid beating of your heart in your chest. 

“S-So..What- um..-”

“Just relax” He interrupts, his voice sounded so nice, deep and smooth like a rich dark chocolate. It only manages to make you more nervous. 

“I’m sorry- I haven't actually done this before” you confess with a nervous chuckle, hands gripping your tea cup brutally. 

He gives you this half smile and you're unsure of wether he's actually human or a demi-god at this point. “I can tell, but don't worry there's no reason to be” 

You feel slightly comforted by his words and feel yourself let loose a little, “Okay, Bakugou, what do you like to do?” you ask.

“I like going to the gym” he shrugs, “I’m not really Interesting, I’m more curious about you” he says, he places his elbow on the table and rests his chin in the palm of his hand and leans in to you. His skin is so clear- not a blemish in sight and his eyes are practically burning a hole into your soul.

“M-me? I do nothing too important..I like to sew” you respond, taking a sip of your jasmine tea. You didn't necessarily want to tell him about who you were or what you did just yet, money and status only complicate things. For now, you just wanted to be a normal young woman going out on a date. 

“Come on, don't be shy, I know there's more to you than sewing” He says, removing the straw from his coffee and placing it on a neighboring napkin. 

You bite into your bottom lip, “Well, I honestly don't do much besides work, it’s taken up so much time in my life I can't say I do much else” you admit and Bakugou hums thoughtfully. He doesn't respond for a bit, the sounds of the coffee shop fill the silence instead. 

“Okay, I have an idea” 

You cock your head to the side curiously.

“Let’s ditch the formalities and go have some real fun, I think its about time you lived your life” he proposes and your mouth hands open. Was he serious? He looked it. You couldn't help the giddy feeling that bubbled up within you, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long time, excitement. It made you feel young again. 

“What do you say?”

“Alright!” 

+

The two of you spent all day together, visiting various hidden places around the city, you did shopping and even some sightseeing. For the first time in a while you felt alive, like you were actually a person and not just a unfeeling robot who simply lived to work. 

Your last stop was a park. With a large lake in the center Bakugou suggested you guys feed the birds before heading home. With a handful of birdseed you gently sprinkled some into the water and watched the geese gobble it up.

“When I was five, I had a huge fear of geese..” Bakugou admits and you're chuckling.

“No way, really?” you turned to face him and when you do he’s already looking at you, smiling fondly, eyes filled with an emotion that you really couldn't seem to put your finger on.

“What? Do I have something on my face that you're not telling me about?” You pout and he shakes his head before turning his attention back to the birds as he sprinkles more of the food into the lake. 

“No, just realized somethin’” 

The sun’s beginning to set now, the sky is illuminated by hues of orange and pink. You nudge him with your arm, “Realized what?” 

He turns back to face you, there's an adoring look on his face. 

“You look pretty when you're having fun” 

A look of surprise crosses your features before your ears burn in embarrassment at the sudden compliment, the butterflies in your stomach flutter around more and more the longer you two stare at each other. 

“Thanks” You mumble before looking down at your palm full of birdseed. 

+

Dates with Bakugou become more and more frequent after that. The two of you often meeting up more than you meet up with your regular friends. Bakugou doesn't even charge you anymore, even though you've tried to tell him it was fine he still insisted otherwise. The two of you even exchanged numbers and spoke quite often on the phone. Texts like,

‘this song reminded me of you’ and ‘don't work too hard, idiot’ were often exchanged. 

After maybe a month of this happening you realized that the warm feeling you got in your chest whenever Bakugou brushed your hair into place or stopped to tie your shoe for you or even when he texted you good morning wasn't because you appreciated him being a good friend, you liked him. It took a month to finally decipher your feelings for him but once you did..what the heck were you supposed to do now?

Never once in your life had you confessed to someone let alone dated them, what would happen to your friendship with Bakugou if things didn't work out? You didn't want to stop being friends with him, you loved being with him, he was the reason you finally started taking breaks and learned to relax. 

You had a ton of questions to answer for yourself but you couldn't do it right now, you had a date with Bakugou. He told you to dress up and you weren't sure where you were going but you trusted him to take you somewhere you'd enjoy. Around 8pm like promised, he was there to pick you up. His car was fairly nice, you assumed his high pay rates were being used for something but now you know what. He was wearing a black three piece suit, it was crisp and you could clearly tell it was expensive, his hair was slicked back and he had a single diamond stud in his left ear. He looked damn good. It was making you a little nervous about how fancy this place actually was. 

The drive to dinner was unusually quiet. Bakugou typically did most of the conversations with you seeing as you were mostly an awkward sausage but tonight was different, he had a stern look on his face and you felt a little worried. Bakugou noticed your nervous look in the rearview mirror and without skipping a beat placed his hand gently upon your thigh and gave it a small squeeze, this thumb moved back and forth in a soothing manner. All without taking his eyes off the road. 

You felt a shiver run up your spine and you bit your lip from potentially making any noise, you turned your head to face the window to prevent him from seeing the look on your face. 

+

Bakugou was right about the restaurant being fancy. The place was full of people you could recognize, everyone from business moguls to celebrities, it was almost a little intimidating but you knew probably how tough it was for Bakugou to even get a table reserved at this place so you decided to instead choke down any kindlings of anxiety and replace it with a gratefulness for his hard work.

You swirled the champagne around in your glass while Bakugou took a bite out of his steak, the atmosphere between you two was a little awkward and it hadn't been like this since the two of you met it was a little alarming. 

“Is something wrong..?” you ask after gently resting the glass back on the table, he wipes his mouth with his napkin and sighs.

“I’m sorry that- I seem so weird tonight” he apologizes and you shake your head.

“No no don't worry about it, I’m just worried something bad happened” you tell him, you lean forward and place your hand on his. His fingers lace themselves with yours and for a moment it feels like its just the two of you in the restaurant together. 

“Nothing bad, actually something good” he explains and you're giving him a small smile

“Something good?” you question and he leans in even closer to you.

“I mean, ever since I started hanging out with you I feel like my life's changed, I’m not one to be super cheesy but I just- fuck..I like you” his face is turning a light pink and in a moment of courage you close the small distance between the two of you and press your lips against his. He immediately reciprocates the kiss, his hand sneaks up your forearm and settles on your elbow using it to pull you in closer. 

When the kiss finally breaks the two of you are a panting mess, then you hear the waiter clear his throat and Bakugou uses his thumb to wipe the lipstick from the corner of his lips.

“Check, please”

+

Upon entering your home, there wasn't much speaking. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as his hands fumbled with the zipper on the back of your dress. The two of you blindly walked backwards until you tripped backwards onto the couch. Bakugou completely stripped you of your dress and  laid it across the back of the couch, your hands made quick work of his pants unbuttoning and unzipping them, he kicked them off eagerly uncaring of where the fabric was strewn. He cupped your cheek and continued to kiss you as he helped you wiggle out of your underwear. He sucked in a breath at feeling how wet you already were.  He ran a finger up and down your slit before gently nudging a finger inside. 

The sensation was foreign, it felt odd at first but the more he kept twisting and thrusting the finger inside of you the better it began to feel. He slid in another one and began making a scissor motion inside of you. Your hips raised off the cushions of the couch, you moaned into the kiss and eventually he pulled away from it, instead opting to kiss the skin of your neck. Your moans along with the wet sounds of his fingers fingering you open filled the space. It felt good, you could feel the knots in your stomach threaten to untangle the harder his fingers fucked themselves into you. 

His movements slowly came to a halt and he slid his fingers out. Your eyes clouded with tears and your legs were shaking, disappointed that he stopped when you were so close. He pulled his cock from his underwear and began stroking it over you.

“Ready?” He asks as he grinds his cock against your twitching entrance and you're gripping his shoulder before he makes another move. 

“A-actually..please just be gentle its-i’ve never done this before” you confess and his eyes widen for once, taken aback by your sudden profession. He gives you a small nod, “Promise.”

With one smooth stroke he bottoms out within you. Your back is arching off the couch as your mouth hangs open in a silent cry. The feeling is an addicting mix of pain and pleasure that has the tears you were holding in begin to roll down your cheeks, Bakugou gently kisses them away and uses his fingers to wipe away the stray tears. For a while, you're simply holding each other, bakugou whispers words of comfort in your ears while you slowly familiarize yourself with having him inside of you. 

When Bakugou feels your hips begin to move against his, he takes that as his sign to begin moving. His thrusts start shallow, hips just barely touching yours as he doesn't want to hurt you and you quickly become frustrated with his kindness. Your legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer to you, forcing him to bottom out inside you again. You whine his name and he shakes his head. 

“And here I was trying to be considerate” he huffs out, you grip his tie and pull him down and press a gentle kiss against his lips. 

“I didn't ask you to take it easy on me” you remind him and he scoffs

“You asked for this”

You're suddenly flipped onto your stomach and he raises your hips in the air, he pulls himself all the way out of you until the head of his cock is the only thing you can still feel inside of you, he rams his cock back into you and you're gripping the couch for dear life. His hips are ruthless, lewd slapping noises fill the room as the head of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust. His heavy balls  greet your clit with an unceremonious slap. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, you can't think of anything else except Bakugou. You'd been completely fucked dumb on your first time. 

You feel Bakugou’s fingers lace into your hair and grip the roots before pulling at them and forcing your head back. A jolt of pleasure flows through your body as his cock pushes up against your g-spot, your legs and kicking around behind you.

“No! cum-cumming kats I-” you can hardly finish your own sentence due to how hard your orgasm hits you, your body his shaking as bakugou releases your hair and uses his free hand to grip your waist as he desperately humps you, chasing his own release. Your cunt spasms around him in overstimulation, Katsuki only curses under his breath as you squeeze down on him, your cunt clamps down on his cock as you're brought to your second orgasm and his movements finally begin to slow and an unfamiliar warm fills your tummy. 

He doesn't pull out right away. Instead he gently lays you backwards onto his chest and you snuggle into his chest. 

He whistles, “Nice place”

“Pfft- don't try to make small talk with me after you just finished banging me” you giggle sleepily.

“Fair enough, still, I’m curious about how you can even afford this place” he wonders, hand rubbing up and down your back, only easing you closer to falling asleep.

“Hard work” you reply he takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it. 

“That’s my hard working girl” 

you feel the butterflies swarm around your stomach all over again at his small comment. 

“Does this mean we're dating now?” you ask and he gives you a little chuckle.

“Yes, if you want” 

“Good then you're my boyfriend” your eyes are fluttering closed at this point, you merely nuzzle into his chest and he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“Goodnight love” 

“Night Kats..”

#bakugou #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader smut #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo smut #bnha bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #mha #bnha #mha smut #bnha smut #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou smut #bnha bakugo fluff #bakugou fluff #fluffy smut #bakugou fluffy smut

[worldwidemochiguy]

Good Girl (MFEU Yandere! Taehyung)

...

“Ah, I see. You don’t want to be my Princess anymore then, hmm?” 

“Taehyung, I-”

“Listen, Y/n. I have been patient with you, even when you were being unreasonable. But this is the last straw. You don’t want to talk to me? You don’t want to see me? Fine. You won’t have to.”

...

MFEU masterlist

General masterlist

Warnings: Yandere behaviour, mental manipulation, mentions of abstaining from eating/self harm through starvation so be v careful if you’re sensitive to that <3

Word Count: 2.4K

a/n: this is a bit dark for the mfeu lol. this is kinda rushed bc i wanted to put something out, also i highkey hate the photo collage thing but c’est la vie i guess lmao

Good Girl

You are having a bad day.

This morning, you woke up to an empty bed, the lingering warmth on Taehyung’s side having already dissipated by the time your sleep-crusted eyes cracked open. He had only left to have a shower, of course, but that didn’t stop the jolt of fear and insecurity you experienced in his absence.

Since the day seemed determined to ruin itself for you, when you tried to cook breakfast to cheer yourself up, you burned the eggs. They were the last eggs in the fridge, and you let out a silent scream of frustration before settling for a bowl of dissatisfying cereal. When Taehyung asked why the two of you weren’t having a proper breakfast like you usually did, you had snapped at him.

Actually snapped at him. 

He recoiled, and the widening space between you lapsed into silence as he gave you the opportunity to apologise. You knew you should, but the words refused to come, and your tongue felt as unusable as lead. You kept your eyes on your Kellogg flakes slowly disintegrating into milk as Taehyung stiffly left the table, off to get dressed for work. 

 Which led you to now, with Taehyung standing expectantly by the front door, frowning at your still pyjama-clad self. 

“Baby, you have to get ready. You know how I like to be punctual.”

You petulantly keep your eyes on the pool of tepid milk in your bowl.

“Baby,” Taehyung repeats, impatience creeping into his tone. “You have to get ready now, or I’ll just go without you.” 

“Then just go without me.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you see Taehyung’s mouth fall open. You know his threat was empty. You have practically never forgone spending the day at work with him, and even in the exceptional circumstance that you do, you always have a reason. Not that you don’t have a reason now: You’re feeling bratty. 

“Why are you behaving like this, Princess?” Taehyung sounds shocked, as if he can barely believe what you’ve done. You scowl — you’ve barely done anything, you’ve just been a bit short with him. Given his own changeable mood, he of all people should be able to understand. 

“I’m not behaving like anything. I just don’t feel like going with you today. Is that alright? Or will you just take me against my will? It’s not like you haven’t done that before.” 

Silence.

Taehyung slams the door as he goes, leaving you to stew in a nauseating mixture of twisted satisfaction and remorse. 

You deliberately go to bed before Taehyung comes back, forgoing dinner just to spite him. How can he just expect you to come with him every day, just to sit in an office and wait for when he comes to give you attention? It’s not fair. When the door opens signalling Taehyung’s return, you shut your eyes and breathe deeply, mimicking sleep. 

Taehyung pauses in the entry to your bedroom. Part of you hopes that he can tell you aren’t asleep, almost like you want him to know that you’re intentionally faking it just to avoid him. Another, quieter part of you wants to go up to him and hug him, and apologise for being so unreasonable. You ignore the cold fist of guilt forming in your empty stomach.

When Taehyung slips into bed beside you, he gathers you into his arms like he always does, like he wants to be gentle with you, like an apology. You shift away from him, rolling to the other side of the bed with a sleepy murmur of protest. He doesn’t try to touch you again. 

You tell yourself you aren’t disappointed.

Getting out of bed after a sleepless night is never pleasant. You know Taehyung didn’t have a restful time either, tossing and turning all through the night, like he couldn’t sleep without feeling your presence, safe in his arms. Sometimes, he would tentatively reach to your side, and you would always shift away, even though your heart tugged uncomfortably beneath your ribs for every added inch between the two of you. 

You utter an unspoken apology to his shoulder blades — his back was now turned to you after he eventually gave up and rolled over — and then left to get in the shower.

You stay in there, waiting as the mirrors fog, and your fingers prune, and your skin becomes flushed from the heat — the water is just a touch too hot, verging on painful— but still you wait. As soon as you hear the door slam again, you get out, wrapping yourself in a robe you know is Taehyung’s (but he isn’t here so it doesn’t matter).

You drift into the kitchen, seeing the remnants Taehyung left after a morning without you. A half-drunk coffee cup — he only ever drinks coffee when he’s stressed, or sleep-deprived, or both — no empty plates in sight — he doesn’t eat when he’s worried about something, a habit you’ve been trying to break him out of and yet… look at you, being the very cause of his worry. 

Your fingers itch to take the used cup and wash it out, placing it back neatly where it belongs, but you refrain. You can’t let yourself interact with anything Taehyung has touched, lest he view it as a concession. You don’t even know why you’re doing this, but it’s easier to carry on antagonising him than it is to apologise, and explain that you don’t even have a valid reason for upsetting him in the first place. 

It’s ironic, you complained about being bored of waiting around for him and doing nothing at his office, but you’re doing the exact same thing at home. You can’t focus on anything, flitting from unfulfilling task to unfulfilling task, trying to keep the guilt and foolish acknowledgements at bay. 

You take the time to prepare yourself a meal, but throw it out once you realise you’ve made enough for two, just like you always do nowadays. 

The phone Taehyung bought for emergencies, just in case you ever needed him and he wasn’t there, rested temptingly on the counter. Taehyung must have taken it out and put it there for you. God, even when you are being so unreasonable, he still only wants what is best for you.

You don’t call him, even though you want to, even though you regret it, even though the thought of him sitting all alone in his office makes you cry. 

Taehyung comes home to a silent apartment. You are sitting on the couch, and you deliberately don’t look up when he enters. 

“Princess,” 

You don’t look up.

“Baby,” 

You reach over to grab the remote, and start idly scrolling through TV channels, despite knowing there’s nothing on that you want to watch.

“Y/n.” 

He hasn’t called you that since the day you met him. He never calls you that. You look up, and your suddenly fearful eyes meet Taehyung’s stern, unforgiving gaze. 

“Ah, I see. You don’t want to be my Princess anymore then, hmm?” His words are sharp, and they cut deeper than anything you would’ve thought Taehyung would say, even at his angriest. 

“Taehyung, I-”

“Listen, Y/n.” He cuts you off with a harsh emphasis on your name, and you fail to suppress a whimper. Why didn’t you just apologise when you had the chance? You never even wanted this in the first place. 

“I have been patient with you, even when you were being unreasonable. But this is the last straw. You don’t want to talk to me? You don’t want to see me? Fine. You won’t have to.”

“Taehyung, wait-” You scramble to your feet, frantic as you watch him dump bags of groceries on the floor that you hadn’t previously noticed.

“There’s enough food here to keep you going for a week. You have all you need, you won’t need to leave the apartment.” He informed you tonelessly, ignoring your distraught face. 

“Taehyung, why- where are you going?”  

“Away. I’ll be gone for a week. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“No! I don’t want you to go! Don’t go!” You wail, coming over to clutch at his overcoat. He softens for a second, and his hands come up to grasp your wrists gently.

“You don’t want me to go?” 

A sob crawls up your throat.

“No.”

His grip around your wrists tightens, just as his eyes harden again.

“Too bad. You can’t keep me against my will. You were very clear about the strong moral objections you have to that, after all.” 

He slams the door as he leaves just like he did this morning, but this time it’s you on the other side, slumping against it and sliding down to the floor, sobbing as you hear the lock click from the other side. You can’t even go after him. He has just abandoned you. 

……

The first day, you try to make a special lunch to cheer yourself up. You make Taehyung’s favourite meal, and part of you expects him to come swanning through the door with a bright, excited grin, grateful that you took the time to make it especially for him. But he doesn’t.

The meal you worked so hard on tastes like ash in your mouth, and you end up going to bed, leaving it practically untouched. You try to sleep, but find that you can’t without the reassuring weight of Taehyung enclosing you, keeping you safe. 

By the third day, you’ve given up trying to function like a normal human being. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you barely remember to blink. Your throat is painfully dry, but maybe that’s a good thing, because otherwise you know you’d be calling out his name in the vain hope that he might somehow hear it and come back to you.

On the fifth day, the phone rings.

You move with more urgency than you have had all week, scrambling to get to the phone. You fall over furniture in your haste, and don’t even take the time to register the pain because you’re so worried that the ringing will stop and you’ll be alone in silence again. You can’t bear the deathly silence of the apartment without him in it. 

“Taehyung,” You try to say when you wrench the phone to your ear so hard you hit the side of your face, but your voice is so hoarse from misuse and mistreatment that it comes out as a croak.

“Baby?” Taehyung’s worried voice crackles over the line, and you sob in relief.

“Taehyung!” You cry, before pouring out an incomprehensible litany of apologies and pleas for him to return. You have surpassed any remaining vestiges of pride. You need him here. Now. 

“Whoa, whoa, baby, slow down.” Taehyung tries to soothe you, and you fall silent straight away. You’re desperate to convey how much you need him here right now, but you wouldn’t dare to disobey one of his orders. 

“Do you want me to come back?”

“Yes,” You blurt out, tears becoming evident in your voice. 

“Are you sure? I thought you were mad at me…” Taehyung trails off in discontent, and you fumble to reassure him.

“No, no, I’m not mad at you. I never was! I was just…stupid. I was being a brat. Please, please, come back, please.”

“Hmm,” Taehyung deliberates, as if weighing the options, “I did say I would be gone for a whole week… do you really need me that badly?”

“Yes!” You wail down the phone, crumpling in on yourself in despair, “I need you! I need you here right now, Tae! Please! Please, I promise I’ll never be bad again. I promise. I’m sorry.” 

“You promise you’ll never be bad again? Ever?” Taehyung repeats doubtfully. 

“Yes!” You nod fervently, despite knowing he has no way of seeing you. “Yes, I’ll be good from now on. I’ll be perfect, just like you deserve. Will you come back? Please?”

You wait with bated breath as he hesitates. He has to come back, surely you’ve convinced him, surely he’ll realise how much you need-

The phone line cuts off. You pull away to see the phone flash with a damning message:

The caller has hung up. Would you like to call back?

The phone tumbles out of your hand as you collapse to the floor. Oh God, Taehyung isn’t coming back, he doesn’t want you, he doesn’t need you like you need him, you aren’t good enough-

You are so deep into hysteria that you don’t even feel the arms wrapping around you, slowly rocking you back and forth comfortingly. As soon as you register the other person, you instinctively try to fling them off you. 

“No! Only Taehyung’s allowed to touch me! Only Taehyung, only Taehyung… only…”

Your words dissolve as reality crashes over you: Taehyung doesn’t want to touch you anymore. He doesn’t want you. 

“Well that’s not true, baby. You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted.” A deep voice utters from behind you. Wait…

You spin around so violently you fall from your squatted position onto your hands and knees. There, crouched on the floor in front of you, is Taehyung. You don’t waste a second, flinging yourself at him. He catches you with ease and crushes your body into his embrace, pressing kisses over any part of you he can reach while you curl into his body weakly, like an animal in search of warmth.

“Oh, baby.” He sighs, beholding your pathetic state. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I had to leave you. I didn’t want to. It was agony every second I was away from you, watching you waste away like that… I never want to do it again. You’ll never make me do this again, right?”

“No, never!” You proclaim fervently as he sweeps you up, “I’ll never do it again. Don’t want you to go. Don’t go. Please.”

He gently pries your curled fist from his sleeve and intertwines his fingers with it, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. 

“I won’t go, baby. I’ll never leave again. As long as you’re a good little girl for me, I’ll never leave you alone, even for a second. Does that sound good, baby?”

You think back over the hellish eternity of the past five days. Loneliness, helplessness, isolation. You never want to feel like that again.

“Yes, Taehyung. Never leave me alone, please. I need you to survive.”

His lips curl into a triumphant smile. The punishment has worked just like he planned.

“Good girl.”  

#yandere bts #yandere #yandere taehyung #yandere taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #bts kim taehyung #bts v #taehyung x reader #bts taehyung x reader #yandere kpop #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction

[letitrainathousandflames]

ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. You are NOT being rude and you, in fact, just pulled me out of a writer’s block?? I love you so much??? AAAAA???

So this right here is the setting, okay? Think of it as, collecting each part of this lovely lovely trio to then just be worried about finding a big enough bed later okay?

PLEASE BULLY ME INTO CONTINUING IT LATER AS WELL!

-

Rating: Explicit

Category: Multi | F/M/M/M

Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008)

Relationship: Reader/Rex, Reader/Cody, Reader/Wolffe, Reader/Cody & Wolffe & Rex

Character: CT-7567 | Rex, CT-2224 | Cody, CT-3636 | Wolffe, Reader Character

Additional Tags: clone smut, public sex, exhibitionism kink, slow burn but it’s more like medium rare? bc we want that Meat lmao, interrupted sexytimes bc duty calls, part 1/???, literally just writing as i go, as the saying goes - we’ll fuck on that bridge when we come to it, no beta we die like men

The 79’s may be loud, rowdy and a bit crowded, but it’s where the best eye candy in the republic comes to drink and chill. Bless the Republic for having an entire army of insanely hot men. Each one of the clone troopers is beautiful in their own particular way, and if you could ever stop being a shy disaster and just talk to any of them, maybe you could get to know more about them, have a fun night together and even…

You blow a few bubbles into the straw in your colorful drink, feeling the heat that travels up to your face just at the thought of getting handsy on one of them. Well, a girl can dream, right?

A man dressed in white-and-blue armor walks up to the bar, standing right next to you and speaking loudly to the bartender to make himself heard over the music.

“That neon-green thing, just like the lady’s, whatever this is.” he asks, discreetly pointing at you with his eyes still on the barman and chuckling “The whole deal, even the tiny umbrella; I’m celebrating tonight. No wounded, no dead. All my boys got back home.”

The bartender smiles wide at him, busying themself with the bottles. The clone trooper must have felt your gaze on him, because he turns to you with a small smile that makes you heart jump; moons above, he’s handsome. His hair is buzzed short and is of a light blond shade – unusual for a clone. There’s a blue leather pauldron over his shoulder, and a black kama trimmed with blue hanging from his hips; from what you’ve heard, these meant the clone was a high-rank officer, either an ARC trooper or a Commander. You would be lying if you said that didn’t make him even hotter.

You can tell he must be broad and strong even out of the armor, and you flash your tongue over your lips by reflex. Oh. Oh no, you are crushing hard on this man and you don’t even know his name. The barman sets his order down, the clone picks it up and this is your last chance to say anything before this man turns away with his drink and you never see each other again-

“Cheers!” you blurt out, raising your glass at him

The clone turns around to look at you, looking slightly confused.

“Excuse me?”

“C-Cheers.” You repeat weakily “For your men. You said you were celebrating, right?”

The man smiles wide, and there’s nothing you can do to stop yourself from falling for him now.

“Right. Cheers.” He clinks his glass against yours, takes a sip and hesitates for a moment before continuing “I’m Captain Rex, pleased to meet you. And, uh… what’s your name?”

You introduce yourself and Rex looks at you for a few seconds, mouth opening and closing at first like he’s still considering what he’s going to say. Then…

“Mind if I sit here?” he gestures at the barstool next to yours

“Not at all!” you say, painfully aware of how eager you just sounded; Rex sits down, eyeing his own colorful drink curiously “So… captain. I don’t think I’ve ever met a high rank officer before. Rare sight around here.”

Rex tries a sip from his drink to then look pleasantly surprised, taking another before setting down his glass.

“Probably because we spend most of the time buried in paperwork.”

You spend one of the nicest nights you’ve had in a long time with Rex, talking about the bar, life in coruscant and in the army, funny stories from Rex’s job and yours, and the two of you have a lot of fun trying to pick the drinks with the weirdest colors and hoping they taste good.

By the end of the night you exchange contacts, and from then on you would often meet Rex at the 79’s for some drinks and kissing that would often turn into feeling each other up while making out in a less busy corner of the bar.

One night, the two of you are kissing by the dance floor when commander Cody walks up to the both of you, ignoring the men and women swooning at him along the way and stopping close to the two of you.

“Hey, Cody.” Rex smiles at him to then acknowledge his nod at you, telling him your name and introducing him to you in return “This is Cody, commander of the 212th.”

“Nice to meet you.” you smile back at Cody as the three of you dance absently to the music

You take a few moments to notice the similarities and differences between the two clones. Cody has a large scar branding the left side of his face, and his hair is black, shaped in the standard haircut most clones have, and he doesn’t have the few scattered freckles you had noticed on Rex’s cheeks and nose. But their eyes are of the same golden-brown shade, their lips full and inviting, their hollow cheeks and strong jawlines just perfect.

At one point Cody steals a glance at Rex, smirking, and Rex looks from him to you and back to him for a few beats, wetting his lips and then nodding. Cody slowly moves his hand over to your waist without touching you yet, eyes looking at you as if asking for permission.

You look at Rex with a puzzled look on your face and Rex moves in closer, pressing a kiss to your lips and speaking close to your ear over the loud music. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers prickling all over your shoulder and down your arms.

“My brother wants you, cyare.” He nips at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine as he grinds against your thigh “Wants to know if that’s okay with you.”

You turn to look at Cody some more. The man is strikingly handsome just like any other clone, and his frame is that of a commander as well, big and broad and seeming strong enough to snap you like a twig with his bare hands. The hungry look in his eyes… it’s like he wants to eat you whole, his teeth dragging over his lower lip in a playful smirk.

“That’s… very okay with me.” you reply, making sure Cody could read your lips even though you speak with Rex still “But is it okay with you?”

Rex kisses a wet trail down your neck, nipping at a tendon there. His armored chest is pressed against your own, his thigh finding its way between yours, cold plastoid meeting your heated thighs.

“Us clones are used to sharing everything with one another… I’ve never shared anything as precious as you before though. M’not sure I want to.” Rex nips ever so delicately on a tendon, making you whimper softly “Maybe… if you promise you won’t forget that you are mine, I don’t think I’ll mind if you become his as well.”

The words send a warm excitement that settles in your lower stomach, and you reach for Rex’s face, making him look at you in the eyes.

“I don’t think there’s anything in this galaxy that could make me forget that I’m yours, Rex.”

Rex offers you that warm smile that always makes you weak in the knees to then press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Shall we invite him, then?”

You nod with a wide grin and soon you’re holding out your hand, pulling Cody in closer and tilting your head up to kiss him. He smiles into the kiss, and you laugh softly. You then pull back to turn your face to Rex, kissing him in turn. Every time you kiss one of them, the other traces the back of your neck with his fingers and watches you with aching need until you turn and kissed him instead. The three of you are barely dancing at all at that point, just swaying in place and becoming more and more breathless and hot with desire.

Cody is the one to interrupt all the kissing and groping between the three of you, calling you and Rex back to a more secluded spot under a staircase, far from the booming boxes that blasted music and all the merry drunks on the dance floor, so that the three of you could talk some.

Having interrupted the eager touching and kissing from before, the three of you share a moment of awkward silence before Cody sensibly breaks the moment asking about what you work with.

It leads to an interesting conversation where you get to know each other better – turns out that was the famous Marshall Commander Cody, the highest authority in the Clone Army of the Republic, and Rex himself was Captain of the 501st, the troops under the charge of the famous Jedi General Anakin Skywalker.

The two of them were interested in what you told them of your work, regardless of how boring you believe it would sound next to their own. You laugh at their jokes, enjoy their stories and share your own. At some point you start kissing them again between words, and soon enough none of you is speaking anymore, except for a few goading words and hushed hums.

You wind up pressed up between the two of them, and you press each of your palms over their codpieces. The way Rex’s eyes roll back before falling shut is truly something else, and so is the strained grunt from Cody close to your ear. Rex gropes and kneads at your breasts over your shirt and Cody’s gloved hands hike your skirt up some so that he can press his fingers over the heated skin between your thighs. The commander tugs at the edge of your underwear, kissing the side of your neck.

“Can I get this off the way?”

Moons, his voice is hungry with need and you whine a long, pleading ‘yes’ that is met with a dragging of teeth over the crook of your neck while Rex kisses you. Cody’s gloved fingers tease at your slit and you whine against Rex’s mouth. The way he rubs your clit is so good it should be illegal.

Still, you snap your eyes open and glance over Rex’s shoulder to make sure you’re not being seen by anybody. Luckily enough, the dark corner you chose seems to be hidden enough for no one seems to be staring. Being sandwiched between the two muscular men as they have their way with you in a public place is exciting, and it sends shivers down your spine.

Before you know it, you’re rolling your hips to get Cody’s fingers to tease you harder while Rex pinches your nipples between his fingers, squeezing you breasts and sucking hard at the side of your neck, certainly leaving a trail of hickeys there.

Cody picks up his pace, his own hips thrusting to get more of your touch despite the stiff codpiece that stands in the way. Rex sucks your lower lip into his mouth, and Cody’s middle finger presses against your clit over and over, dipping only ever so shallowly inside you to spread some of the moisture collecting in your heated slit over your clit to ease the friction; you giggle just at the thought of the three of you getting caught, the indecency of it all almost sending you over the edge.

You’re about to suggest that the three of you find an actually private place where you can all get rid of your clothes and move more freely when you hear a faint beep and a small square panel on Cody’s arm – the one moving up and down as he fingers you – lights up with a red hue.

“Kriff!” Cody hisses, retreating his fingers with a grimace; he takes a moment to move your underwear back in place and pulls his hand back “Sorry, I have to take this. Give me a moment…”

Cody places his hand on his ear, visibly displeased. Rex holds you close, gently rubbing your arms and giving you soft pecks to your lips.

“…Yeah?” Cody’s voice and posture suddenly shifts as he jerks himself upright, eyes going sharp “General Kenobi. What is it, sir? Yes. I understand, sir. Yessir. I’ll get the boys back in a minute.” He lowers his hand, shooting Rex the same annoyed look from before “They want us back in the base. Something urgent came up.”

Rex sighs between his teeth heavily enough to make a few strands of your hair fly up for a second. You can imagine he had other plans for tonight, probably the same ones you were having yourself.

Cody grimaces, his golden-brown eyes burning at you while Rex takes his side. You shiver at the loss of Rex’s warmth, crossing your arms.

“You have Rex’s number, right?” Cody smirks at you when you nod, licking the slickness over his gloved finger, eyes sharp at you “We’ll finish this on another occasion then…”

He says your name slowly, almost spelling it like he’s savoring it, eyes trailing over your frame like he wants to commit it to memory before departing. Rex takes your free hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

“I’ll call you soon, cyare.”

You mean to ask him what the word means, but instead you just say quietly:

“I’ll be waiting…”

-

You spend most of the time after that texting them every day, and while they are very sweet, both of them can only get back at you at very late hours, and the reason why they are so busy is classified. Since they’re both such high-ranking troopers you can imagine how serious it must be. So despite feeling bitter about being unable to see them anytime soon, you promise them to wait for a new date.

The dates that come barely count as dates though, rushed meetings at the bar late at night that only amount to some chatting and kissing and little beyond that before they rush back out. Maybe that’s commander-dating for you, these two are most likely the busiest clones in the GAR and you just had to fall hard for them, haven’t you?

When they finally text you saying they will soon be stationed in Coruscant while their Generals sorted out some things with the Jedi Council in two weeks and that you should pick a date for you to actually have dinner together, you have to muffle a scream of sheer giddiness into your pillow before replying that the nearest date possible sounds great.

To the hells with not looking as stars-damned eager as you are. You are damn thirsty for those two, and they better know it by now.

Two weeks later you are sitting alone in a booth at the 79’s second floor, waiting for them to arrive. You can’t help but smile in excitement, curious about the reason why this had been regarded as a special date. This is a nice space, quieter than the dance floor below, and you spot other couples having quiet conversations or simply enjoying the nice atmosphere to sit closer together and kiss.

You run a hand through your hair, fixing the upper half you had tied up in a low ponytail; you’re about to wonder what could be taking so long when they show up, climbing the stairs with smiles on their faces.

Rex and Cody. Your boyfriends. You still cannot understand how you managed to be lucky enough to have all of the three commanders completely in love with you and willing to share you with one another.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Cody strokes the back of your hand as he takes the seat in front of you, leaning to give you a kiss

“Looking prettier than ever.” Rex says softly, taking his seat next to you and kissing you as well

You can feel many eyes turning towards your direction, and you giggle shyly. Yeah, most people were just as smitten as you are over having the attention of the commander and the captain. You look from Cody to Rex with the widest smile on your face.

“I’m so happy you guys called me. I was worried about the two of you. What kept you so busy these days?” Cody and Rex hesitate and you shrug “It’s okay if you can’t tell me. You…wanna talk about something else instead?”

The two clones visibly deflate in relief when you chuckle, and Rex nods.

“Yeah, please. Don’t wanna think any more about work for the day if that’s okay with you…”

He says your name like just doing it makes him happy, and you rest your head on his shoulder for a moment, feeling Cody’s thumb stroking your knuckles and staring lovingly at the commander’s eyes. Sometimes you feel like your presence is like a small vacation for them, and it makes you feel all fuzzy inside. It’s a nice feeling, knowing that you make them nearly as happy as they make you.

That is when you notice a clone dressed in white-and-grey commander armor walking up the stairs and stopping for a moment to say hi to another clone nearby. That man looked good enough to eat, big and boad as commanders go, with a large scar over his right eye and a face that said he wasn’t to be messed with. The way he carried himself probably got enemies to surrender on the spot, and right now it’s making you press your thighs together in desire as you straighten yourself up on your sit.

Cody furrowed his brows, turning his head towards the direction you were looking at to then chuckle, turned to you with a broad grin on his face.

“My, my, so you want him as well? You are an insatiable one, cyare.”

“Wha-?” you blurt out, blushing heavily “I didn’t say anything, Cody!”

The man in commander armor had just noticed Cody and Rex sitting with you in the booth and Rex waved at him as he began walking towards you.

“Didn’t have to.” Cody said just low enough not to be heard by the approaching commander “That look on your face says it all. Say, Rex, how about we invite Wolffe into our little relationship, hm?”

Rex glances at Cody to then reach a hand over your thigh under the table, caressing it so gently it pulls a sigh out of your lips. The warmth of his hands can be felt even though his gloves and the fabric of your dress, soothing and enticing all at once.

“Like I said before” Rex looks at your eyes, biting the corner of his lip “I don’t mind sharing, as long as you know you’re mine... ours.” He adds with a pointed look at Cody “All else is up to you, love.”

You are still being pulled in by the possessive look in Rex’s eyes when Wolffe sits down in front of you, placing his hands on the table and lacing his fingers.

“Rex. Cody.” He greets the fellow officers with a nod to then look at you with a small smile “And you are?...”

You introduce yourself with a smile, trying not to let it show on your face how much you’re attracted by that gruff voice and the proud posture of the clone. The three of you order some food and drinks, talking about the time Wolffe had to go on a relief mission and ended up having to find Skywalker’s protocol droid that had gotten lost; Cody’s laughter is contagious as he elbows the commander and say he can “almost see him rolling his eyes at the kriffing thing, vod”.

Wolffe reaches for a handful of chips, nodding at you.

“I’ve seen you and Rex around here before. Are you two... together?”

Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but you wonder if that was a bit of a hopeful tone in the commander’s voice. Maybe he is interested in you as well and want to check with his brothers if it’s okay to hit on you?

The way Rex licks his lips with a quick glance at you and Cody leans back on his sit some to only graze the side of his armored shin along your own makes you shiver, sputtering some.

“I’m- A-actually the three of us are together.”

You make a point to lean closer to Rex while reaching your hand out for Cody to take, and Wolffe’s eyes go from the fingers that Cody laces with yours to the cheek you rest on Rex’s shoulder guard. You are pretty sure you notice him smirk, but on the very next second he is back to his serious self, taking a sip from his glass.

“I see.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. Okay, here goes nothing. You straighten yourself up, leaning closer to Wolffe, eyes locked on his.

“Why’d you ask? You’re interested?”

You try to avoid looking at Cody because his “ooh, you didn’t!” face is bound to end up making you laugh. Wolffe, however, instead of going red or denying just leans forward as well, his gorgeous mismatched eyes staring right back at you.

“Honestly? Yes.” his gaze shifted to Rex for a second “But I’m not about stepping over anyone’s boundaries.”

Okay, that renders you absolutely speechless. The amount of provoking seduction that Cody has seem to be exactly the same amount of blunt honesty and practicality that Wolffe has, and it hits you like a ton of bricks. Rex reaches for a few chips himself, eating calmly while Cody chuckles.

“You won’t, as far as I’m concerned...” Rex says your name, hand moving over to your thigh under the table again “-She wants you. That’s fine by me. We’re all adults, we’re not jealous of each other, and if any of us ever feel uncomfortable about our deal...” he looks at you, eyes gentle and soft “We’ll talk about it, all of us, and work it out.”

“Yeah.” Cody brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles “And as long as we’re all happy, it’s nobody’s business.”

Wolffe looks at you, a small smile softening his features, and he moves his hand close to your free one, tracing your knuckles with his fingers.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

#lemon/ #thank u anon #i noticed it before i only thrive in DEMAND #that's why i ask my therapist to constantly ask me to show her my new art #otherwise i don't make it #let's just say i'm a disaster adhd mess and go with that :) #my fics #to post on ao3

[r-a-d-imagines]

No need to fear! I am here!! I’m corny ok sry. I did give you lots to write lmao it won’t happen again. So that same pent up request with Simeon, Diavolo and Lucifer? And one of the other 6 brothers. I’d like you to pick. You’re writing is like phenomenal. 💕🦇— U can call me Alice :3 ghost anon 😭

A.N ; a h!!!! no need to be sorry!!!! thank you for your request in the first place!! ^^ i’m glad you enjoy my writing alice!!! i took some liberties on what exactly pent up means for each simeon’s-if you’d like something different, please feel free to ask for it! also, i hope you’re okay with a bit of a sub!lucifer ^^’‘ couldn’t miss the opportunity to write him like that

Simeon, Diavolo, Lucifer, and Leviathan ; Pent Up Sex (w/ female partner)

SimeonEvidently, this was a side of your boyfriend you... Would never have imagined existing, but, low and behold, here you were. In the back of your mind, you worried about getting chewed out for missing class-it sure seemed like you were skipping right now-but, due to some... Certain circumstances, you found it hard to care all that much.“S-Simeon-this bathroom is very echo-y, please-” His hips snapped against your own at a very particular angle, and you slapped your hand over your mouth mid-sentence to halt the cry that threatened to tear itself out of your throat. Breathlessly, he chuckled from his spot behind you, a contradicting gentle hand smoothing itself along your slightly exposed back-he hadn’t taken your uniform off completely, after all. That was the whole reason you were here, not that you knew that. It was new, since the one you’d been given at first didn’t fit right, and, well... This one fit a little too well.“All the better for me to listen to your sweet sounds, love. I’m sure no one’s around-please be as loud as you’d like.” His casual tone made you want to reach back and elbow him right in the ribs-how could he be so nonchalant while he was fucking you like this! In the school bathroom!“Wh-what’s-what’s gotten into you?” Your words sounded more like restrained whimpers, as Simeon saw no reason to allow you a minute to breathe and speak clearly, and you shuddered at the thoughtful hum that left him as his fingers fiddled with the ends of your uniform skirt, flipping it up a little to watch his cock slip in and out of you.“Mm... I just really admire the way your new uniform fits, is all. Couldn’t help myself.”DiavoloYou couldn’t believe him-you knew he wasn’t shy about fooling around in public, but... God. Here, now, with people so close by? Really?He’d elected to take you and the demon brothers out to dinner to celebrate something or other, making a reservation and getting a special table and all that-but upon arriving, it was found that the table was one chair short of being able to seat all of you. Instead of inconveniencing the staff, Diavolo very happily invited you to use his lap as a seat-you should have said no, in retrospect, so this whole mess was partially your fault.Somewhere along the way, without getting caught, somehow, he’d fished his dick out of his pants and pulled your underwear to the side, slipping himself inside of you-”to make it more comfortable,” he’d said. But comfortable for who, you had no idea. You had to admit, though-it wasn’t the worst. It’d been a while since the two of you got to have sex in general-this was an entirely different kind of thrilling. You guessed that was probably why he was doing this-he must have missed you, too.Just sitting with him inside was enough to have you on the verge of coming undone-after all, he was huge, every slight move you made felt overwhelming. You were at least vaguely sure no one had caught on to what was going on-though the looks Asmodeous was giving you from across the table were a bit... Worrying. How he constantly wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you with an almost knowing smirk.“H-how long is this dinner supposed to last, Diavolo? I-I don’t think I’m feeling very well,” You cleared your throat to try and make your voice sound a bit more normal, and you wanted to cry as Diavolo only laughed behind you, patting your thigh.“We haven’t even gotten our food yet, my love-I’m sure you’ll feel better once you’re full.”LuciferQuite frankly, you were a bit frustrated. Not with Lucifer personally, but... Well, maybe it was a bit personal, actual. You wished he would take a break from all that work he had-even if only for a minute. Your heart broke when you bumped into him in the kitchen earlier, hearing the way his shoulders cracked and popped as he begrudgingly fetched himself something to eat before slinking back into his office-though not without pausing to at least grace his lips against your forehead, almost apologetically.He was sorry-for neglecting you for his work, likely. He’d never actually say so, though-nor would he admit to being tired or stressed, that much you knew all too well.And then, it occurred to you-what was stopping you from helping him yourself, instead of waiting around for him to burn himself out and join you in bed? So that was how you found yourself... Here.With Lucifer on his knees for you in the middle of his office, bare from the waist up, skin stinging and red from being struck with the very same riding crop he so often used on you. He had that stubborn, prideful smile of his on his face as he looked up at you, breathless and panting, barely managing to speak, “... I might be letting you have for fun for right now, my dear, but I really should-”“You go near that desk, and I might just go looking for one of your whips.” You interrupted him coldly, delighting in the way his breath hitched, the way he shivered at your threat.“... Alright then, mistress,” The title rolled off his lips sarcastically, though his face flushed deliciously at the sound of it, “-continue with your punishment.”LeviathanYou weren’t sure how much longer this could go on-one of you was bound to snap sooner or later and escalate the situation, but... Alas. Levi sure did seem keen putting all of his focus into the game he was playing, even if your throat was wrapped snugly around his dick, and had been for the past while.You were trying to get him away from his computer, even if only for a little while-and he knew that, so he was trying extra hard to ignore you, but as you stared up at him from where you were, between his legs under his desk, you were overjoyed to see the slight twitches of his eyebrow, the tiny growls he’d let out every few seconds as he shifted around to, in his words, “get comfortable”. Any minute now, you knew-any minute now, he’d give up.You brought your hands up to his thighs, nails raking down the length of them slowly, pressing down just enough to make his cock twitch in your mouth-and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.“You’re so unfair-” His hand leafed itself into your hair, “-damn, I was winning, too-” He was starting to all but yank your head up and down, “-you’re goona regret this, ____-”... Were you, though? Not likely.

#shall we date obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan

[prep4goth]

I wrote a little thing about Alex "Trash Goblin" Torini based off a prompt I saw online. It's finished, though the ending is rushed and I'm bad at grammar so. I wasn't creative enough to come up with a title lmao

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fandom: They're Watching (2016)

Characters: Alex Torini

Content Warning: swearing, light depictions of violence/gore, mentions of trauma

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Alex began the day similarly to how he’d start each and everyday for the past several months; heart thumping wildly and a cry dying in his throat. The details of the nightmare were unclear. As his heart rate declined, the fucked up imagery would fade into obscured whisps. He can’t remember the last time he woke up in the comfort of his bed. Every morning without fail, Alex came to face down on his couch. Fortunately, it was the largest piece of furniture he owned. He could easily stretch out without even bumping the other end. Sometimes having short legs wasn’t a complete curse. 

Alex, convinced that his bones were made up of 40% calcium and 60% lead, fought the urge to remain in his current position. He felt like a boulder sinking into his sofa. Rolling onto his back, something that should be elementary, required a tremendous amount of effort. His eyes focused on the ugly popcorn ceiling. There was a crack- water damage from his pissbags neighbors above him-  that ran from the furthest corner to the fan. The longer he concentrated, the wider the crack appeared. While he envisioned the crack splitting open and dumping gallons of water on his head, the rational part of Alex’s brain demanded that his body move. 

With an Earth shattering sigh, he dragged himself into a sitting position. Alex rubbed his sore eyes. He couldn’t massage away the dry heaviness that seemed to permanently settle behind his eyelids.  What time did he pass out last night? A glance at his still opened laptop and half empty coffee mug told him it had been an unplanned slumber. He’d probably intended to only rest his tired eyes for a moment and slipped into unconsciousness. Just as he had done the previous night. And the night before that. And so on and so forth. His couch had transformed into his office/bedroom/dining area. 

Alex’s left arm was stiff from being tucked under his skull; a makeshift pillow. The tips of his fingers buzzed. Though, whether or not it was from holding that particular position or the dog bite, Alex had no clue. He curled his fingers into a fist. He watched the muscles in his forearm tense. With a slight grimace, he noted the rippling of the angry, pink marks embedded into his skin. Alex dimly recalled the searing pain of canines sinking into his flesh. He remembered the clink of teeth against bone and the ungodly amount of blood. Alex flinched as if the memory had physically burned him. But no matter how violently he jerked his head, the gruesome images were still imprinted in his mind’s eye. Hand cramping, Alex slowly unfurled his fist. With his fingers fanning out, he shook his hand until the cramping dissipated. It made no difference what he did. Numbness spread from the pads of fingers to his wrist, but feeling would eventually creep back. It always did. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex mentally prepared himself for another day of pacing his cramped apartment, slowly deteriorating his vision via computer screen, and consuming unhealthy amounts of coffee. That last one, however, was only achievable by getting his ass off the couch. As sizable as the couch was, it was destroying his back. Alex braced his hands against his lower back as he hefted himself onto his feet. He twisted side to side, spine popping obscenely loud in the quiet apartment. 

Alex scooped up his phone from the coffee table, thumb pressing the home button. Though, the screen remained black. Well, fuck me. I forgot to charge this bitch. He realized with a weak chuckle. Not that he really cared that his phone died in the middle of the night. He hardly used it aside from emailing clients and mindless mobile games. Alex reflected on how he unintentionally severed ties with most if not all his friends while he plugged his phone in to charge. Occasionally, a film buddy would reach out, but responding to pointless texts was rather taxing. His friends had eventually gotten the memo. They figured he was pretty much useless. 

Once, Alex was convinced the flame of desire he had for creating would never flicker out. He was determined to make a name for himself in the film industry. Being a sound guy for some home improvement show made for middle aged and hobbieless parents was not the end goal, but a starting point. Fresh out of highschool and hardly scraping by, Alex thought it was an incredible gig to dip his feet in. The plan was to save up enough money to move out of his parent’s place and gain some behind-the-scenes experience. He’d graduate to bigger and better things; directing. Plans change and aspirations are grated into something more realistic. Alex had not minded flying from country to country, slinging a boom mike over his shoulder. The fact that his boss wasn’t pleasant, to say the least, or that he could only afford a shitty apartment with cracks in the foundation hardly phased him because at least he had Greg. That bastard was the only thing keeping Alex from jumping ship and enrolling in law school like Alex’s dad begged him to. Then they visited fucking Moldova. 

Moldova was a pair of bloodshot eyes that tracked his every move and reeked of smoke. Alex could feel its glare sorching his back every time the memories began to fade. The smoke burnt his lungs, choking him with shame if he ever attempted to forget it. Meeting the accusing eyes meant addressing the unbridled guilt eating away at his stomach whenever he so much as breathed. The weight of its scrutinous gaze left Alex wondering why he was the one left to poorly recite the witch’s tale. According to the witch possessing Becky, Alex was destined to capture the chaos that unfolded that night. Why him, out of every other person, she failed to clarify. 

The witch’s carnage was the last thing Alex filmed. Everytime he picked up a camera, his stomach churned. He feared he’d lift the camera to his face and see Becky’s warped grin on the other side. Wallace, unfortunately the only other person alive, had kindly kicked Alex to the curb. The footage would never see the light of day. People didn’t seem to question the show’s new host, or even Kate’s whereabouts. Greg and Sarah, nameless crew behind the cameras, hardly hurt Wallace’s pockets to replace with other nameless crew. That soulless, corporate prick didn’t even blink upon hearing that his own niece had met the business end of an axe. 

There was no hazard’s pay, not even after a 300 hundred pound man nearly strangled Alex to death. Alex needed to find another source of income to keep his lights on. So, he started editing other people’s work. The majority of his clientele were grown men screaming at video games and indie artists. Humorously enough, Alex favored editing the least. He was equipped with basics, but found it skull- splittingly tedious. It required sitting in one place for too long and extreme focus- something Alex had to shut his mouth for more than five minutes to accomplish. After watching his closest friends die horribly, however, Alex found it was much easier to be silent. A chatter box to a complete mute in months. Now, Alex slipped into the monotonous mechanics without complaint. The simple repetitiveness of splicing clips and adjusting audio levels allowed him to drift through the week without thought. It was slightly pathetic. He willingly chose to rot his brain on a day to day basis for the convenience of not having to think. 

Clearing his throat, Alex realized he’d been standing next to his charging phone for several minutes. He frequently caught himself falling down a rabbit hole of damaging thoughts. His forehead creased, fingers twitching against his phone. He ignored the throbbing pulse where the scar from the dog bite was. Powering his phone on, Alex didn’t expect anything exciting. Maybe an email asking for an update or a notification from one of his various games. He was unpleasantly caught off guard by the blinking ‘missed call’ icon. Upon further inspection, it was a missed call from Bernadette- an old friend Greg introduced Alex to. 

Apparently, Greg had played gigs at some dive bar frequently enough to earn some “street cred”as he often bragged about. Bernadette, when she wasn’t lugging camera equipment around archaic buildings, was bussing tables at that very same dive bar. With similar senses of humor,  which consisted of constantly taunting poor, outnumbered Greg, Alex and Bernadette were instant pals. They were too eerily similar for Alex to develop any feelings beyond platonic, despite Greg’s occasional teasing. Bernadette was the only person left in Alex’s life that was too damn stubborn to let go. Desperate for some form of human reaction, Alex craved reaching out. He tried almost daily. Alex had typed out several messages to Bernadette but erased every single one. Of all people, Bernadette deserved to know what happened; she was practically a sister to them. Except Alex had no clue how to tell her. Whether it was guilt or fear of her not believing him, his basic vocab always disintegrated. There were literally no words to express the dread and sorrow that hollowed out his chest. Better to not have a conversation period.

Tucked away in the dusty corner of Alex’s brain, was a locked chest of traumatic souvenirs. It was splitting at the seams, yet Alex continuously stapled the cracks closed. He ignored the splintering wood. Any day, the chest would finally collapse under the weight and Alex would be flooded with blood tinged memories. He concluded a conference with Bernadette over the phone would be the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Or, in this case, the very thing that protected Alex from the shitshow that was himself. Alex had spent months building that damn chest. He’d lost friends and proper vitamin D, but was still clinging onto a microscopic amount of sanity. He was alive at least. Breathing stuffy apartment air and with the diet of a broke college student, granted. But that was more than Greg and Sarah could say. 

His phone screen dimmed as he internally battled himself. He needed to talk to Bernadette, yes, but he was terrified. There was no danger in listening to his voicemail. Alex inhaled sharply as if he were about to be held under water as he tapped the message icon. He tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. 

“What’s up, assclown! “ Bernadette’s recorded voice shouted into the receiver. Alex winced at her sharp volume, but chuckled regardless. 

“I know you’ve been avoiding me since you got back from where-ever-the-fuck, but that ends today. No more hiding out in that closet you call an apartment- time to get rolling, babbbby!” Alex shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Hearing her voice was a breath of fresh air. That feeling of lonely claustrophobia pressing on his chest faded slightly. Though, he was nervous for where this was heading. He pressed his lips into an anxious line.

“I don’t know what all went down over there, but it’s been months, man. You can’t keep this agoraphobe act up forever. That goes for that sonova bitch, Greg too.” Her laugh was soft, but still audible. Alex felt that familiar pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. God, she thought Greg was alive and avoiding her. Throat tightening around a baseball sized lump, Alex pressed his knuckles against his mouth. His knuckles were flushed hard enough that his teeth dug into his lower lip. 

“Did you guys decide you’re bigshots now? Cause, newsflash- that’s utter bullshit.” Bernadette must have meant for her tone to sound teasing, but the hurt was evident in her voice

“I’ve left Greg a fuckton of messages, but he hasn’t even opened my texts. If I didn’t know better, I’d be worried. But regardless, I know you’re back from Europe, so no excuses. Remember that show I do, the fuckin, uh, ghost hunting crap? Well, we’re down a camera and I thought you’d might be interested. Last time we spoke- which was, like, a century ago- , you said you needed a job, so… Here ya go, bud. It’s better pay than whatever you’re probably doing right now. Even if you don’t need a job, the least you could do is call me and tell me yourself. Just so I at least know you’re still breathing.” There was a beat where Bernadette paused to inhale quietly. She was right, though. Their last conversation was brief and impersonal. He offered the simplest explationations; the shoot was canceled due to creative differences and Alex was out of a job. As for what he yarn he spun for Greg, Alex didn’t recall. Probably some bullshit timeline where Greg was backpacking through Europe. 

Bernadette wrapped up her message with a final jab at Alex’s lack of communication skills. In a poor attempt to center his roaring thoughts, Alex rested his phone against his forehead. The guilt that was slowly swirling in his gut developed into a full on Tsunami. For a moment, he wondered if it was possible to drown in it. Alex no longer had the option. Bernadette deserved the truth, no matter how painful. 

More than that, Alex needed to get the fuck out of this place. His apartment had lost its safe haven appeal and felt more like a cage closing in on him. Whether or not he was prepared to handle a camera again was a different story. He didn’t resent the aspect of working with people again either. At one point, Alex very nearly achieved his dreams. It was still camera work, but he was more than likely rusty from his months-long hiatus anyway. He would have stood in his living room all day if he tried to debate why he should or shouldn’t take the job. This meant, on the other hand, calling Bernadette back. And eventually, he’d have to tell her that Greg was dead. How the fuck was he supposed to do that? Alex had survived an encounter with an actual blood-hungry witch, but his heart shuddered at the thought of Bernadette labeling Alex a lying ass and cutting him off completely. 

Finally, Alex worked up the nerve to press the ‘call back’ option. His eyes stung with unshed tears as his heart nearly beat out of his ribcage. Alex tightly squeezed his eyes shut. The third ring droned obnoxiously loud and Alex silently hoped she wouldn’t pick up. But when did Alex ever get what he wanted? There was a soft click, followed by Bernadette exclaiming that Alex was a fucker. 

“Good to hear your voice too, Bernie.” He shot for humor, but the tremble in his voice betrayed his bravado. Bernadette either failed to notice or was feeling generous. 

Before she had the chance to strike up small talk, Alex launched into action. “Is that job offer still on the table?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

#they're watching #alex torini #Maddy's drabbles

[wastethen8]

50 questions you've never been asked before

I was tagged by the beautiful @lukesflaredpants ❤ thank you

1. what is the colour of your hair brush? blush pink and lavender lol it's a tangle teezer

2. name of a food you never eat? broccoli

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? too cold but I don't mind it

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? watching tv and chilling with my mom

5. what's your favourite candy bar? oof...I like bounty cause I love coconut

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event? nope

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? thank you

8. what is your favorite ice cream? anything with cookie dough or cake stuff

9. what is the last thing you had to drink? orange soda

10. do you like your wallet? I do! I got it on my last shopping spree in london!

11. what was the last thing you ate? chocolate

12. did you buy any new clothes last week? nope

13. last sporting event you watched? I don't really watch anything sports related...maybe football/soccer

14. what's your favourite flavour of popcorn? just sweet caramelized popcorn

15. who was the last person you sent a message to? a friend of mine

16. ever go camping? only as a school trip which was the most horrible trip ever!! let's just say I had to sleep on top of a gully, there was a wasp's nest, I got hella bullied, a schoolmate burned water lmao and I had to do the dishes in a frickin plastic bag...

17. do you take vitamins? I do, vitamin d cause I don't get enough sun lol

18. do you go to church every sunday? nope...I'm not religious and never was...but I used to go cause I was part of a church choir

19. do you have a tan? nah

20. do you prefer chinese food or pizza? PIZZA ALL THE WAY!! but I do love a good chinese dish

21. do you drink soda with a straw? only in the cinema or something

22. what colour socks do you wear? rn? grey fluffy ones

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? I don't drive, no license

24. what terrifies you? uh, a lot!! death, disappointing people, trust, spiders lol ...

25. look to your left, what do you see? a magazine

26. what chore do you hate? doing the dishes

27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? 5 seconds of summer, duh

28. what's your favourite soda? sprite

29. do you go into fast food places or drive thru? drive thru

30. who was the last person you talked to? my mom

31. favourite cut of beef? what? I don't eat much beef so I guess idk

32. last song you listened to? everywhere by niall horan

33. last book you read? no idea tbh but I'm listening to an audiobook if that counts...raven cycle, it was recommended to me by my friend

34. can you say the alphabet backwards? I tried and I can but it takes me A WHILE

35. how do you like your coffee? with a lot of milk, maybe a bit of caramel or cinnamon lol

36. favourite pair of shoes? my converse and my docs

37. the time you normally go to bed? well I go to bed at like 10/11 pm but if we're talking sleep...LATER...especially now in quarantine

38. the time you normally wake up? uh 9-10am but on a work day around 6:30am

39. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunset? sunset, SUUUUPER ROMANTIC

40. how many blankets are on your bed? one and a little cuddly one

41. describe your kitchen plates? uhm...they're white -ish with a grey stripe and a pink stripe around them

42. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? I love cocktails especially stuff with rum in it

43. do you play cards? not really

44. what colour is your car? I don't have one but our family car's colour is called "cashmere" lmao

45. can you change a tire? I probably could if you give me TIME lol I'll figure it out

46. your favourite province? no idea, sorry

47. favourite job you've had? the one I currently have cause it's my first one

48. how did you get your biggest scar? I guess emotional scars don't count lol I'd say the one of the hole that I had in my head. I got it cause I fell down a ladder right on top of a broken sewing machine, it's a crazy story tbh

49. favourite day of the week? maybe saturday

50. what did you do today that made someone happy? I help my mom with her home office work

damn this was LOOOONG but fun lmao

I tag @glitterlukey @iloveluek @parkerrpeter @shawn-and-harry

#only if you want to guys #tag game #tagged #about me...I guess

[linhkcao]

The moment I realize I can move on

As someone who is not naturally articulate and thus take the comfort (sometimes misery) of holding back thoughts and emotions, I’ve forced myself to record this time, no matter how broken it may end up sounding. What a transitive moment I’m in now, a mental milestone. A deep, great sadness of realization as it may be, I know it’ll help me reach the next level of freedom and self-acceptance. After a chain of exhausting days, I’ve allowed myself to be “officially sick” today. I’m gonna slow down. Thinking about what I’m thinking. Before throwing myself back into the madness of life.

I’m a wallflower to the core. The one that always watch, but never get involved, they say. Or am I? There are many moments where I was absolutely expressive and cheerful, like I’m living the time of my life. And I share that positive vibe to everyone I interact with. But there is no expected pattern of how and when that more attractive version of me show up. Recent recall was a couple weeks ago when “she” came to the rescue at an interview and secured me a job offer, I walked out of the building with an impression of “what the heck just happened? Was that me?!”. The thrilled joy, though, is short-lived. As I quickly realize that the worse-in-nearly-all-aspects version now will have to figure out how to meet high expectations from both myself and other people, built by “her”. It’s like “BOOM!!! Surprise biatch~ just saved you clumsy nerd from an awkward situation, congratulations we made it and now YOU take care of the rest! buh byeee~” every time.

Among expectations built, many I’m still fighting for, and for some I realized it’s time to give up for good. And you guess right, the tone is set up for the latter. The record of yesterday events in sequence, though not and end-to-end story, is the straw that broke the camel’s back. Here it goes...

I woke up with an annoying headache from a shortage of sleep as usual, rushed to the Turtle lake and took the school bus to Binh Duong, the place I would only travel to when I have to. It was kinda my favorite moment of a day though. I would always end up at the most front seat on the the right. Settled down. Eyes half-closed. The squeezing feeling all over my head and in the back of my eyes starts to soften thanks to the blend of gentle air-con wind and early morning sunlight, a cleanliness of smell, and my chill love song playlist aka the sleeping therapy. It is opposed to travelling by bike or taxi, now I actually hope the distance was longer! Normally that could be enough extra energy charged for me to survive a normal day at school. But yesterday was no ordinary day. I had no lectures but instead a group project in which we were struggling with an unfamiliar software. I was in charge of running the software while the other two did the writings. Just the night before I felt like a loser and almost gave up, but as the next morning, sitting down with the team, we gradually figured out everything. I felt so relieved. Perhaps it was not difficult after all. Maybe I was just freaked out with something I’m not used to and assume it's unsolvable.

Midday time, accompanied by the brutal sun, is when my tension headache gets at its worse. I skipped lunch and walked some heavy steps to the first-aid office, only to find it was being locked. Right, the lady must've been having lunch. Lying down at the feather chair in front, I pretended to get absorbed into my Iphone like a normal youngster nowadays instead of staring into nowhere and letting out my fatigue like a depressed person. Crazy how I still cared about what other people think even when it felt like my body was about to give out! And there she came from afar, the first aid staff lady; I turned my head and gave her the “I was waiting for you” smile (most honest smile ever), and she returned the “You’ll be okay now kiddo” smile. The first aid office is where I often come to take a nap after a test, or anytime I’m about the “shut down”. I call it VGU 5 star hotel.

The nap didn’t go well as I hoped, still I had to get up for the mini concert rehearsal, and apparently there are other people like me who are waiting to get their battery charged too (there are only 2 beds). The rehearsal was smooth, was no stress, and eventually better than the actual performance (what a shock). But then came the freaking rain. I blamed it for my bad mood, for my guitarist’s bike’s breakdown. And as we was just starting to come back to Saigon, his bike even had a flat tire. This is it, I thought, can’t get any worse!

I appreciate that my friend was very patient handling the situation, he was searching for mobile repairers and called each one of them. So I was resolved not to show any impatience although I was burning inside, the unfinished project still awaits me at home and seriously I was so desperate for some real sleep so I could make it to class for the presentation. I told him that I’d wait on the pavement to relieve the weight so he could go fixe his bike then come back afterwards. 30 minutes passed by... It was dark and remote as hell, and the last open restaurant which I sat nearby may close very soon. I made up my mind that I couldn't take a taxi or grab bike alone with such a far distance at this time of the day, so my only hope was that the guitarist friend woud have no further trouble and come back pick me up soon. My bestie even asked for the location details, in case I get kidnapped she could know how to report to the police lmao. And my professor was very worrying; she asked why I didn’t just simply stay in the dorm overnight...

Then it strike me how much I wanted to go back to Saigon, nearly at all costs. Even just for another 4-hour sleep then going to Binh Duong again, even when it’s super late and rainy. Am I crazy? I didn't care about rationality. I just wanted to go back.

But the actual turning point goes back to the concert, held at BD Conference & Exhibition center. It was prepared with dedication, passion, hard work, and joy, by tons of members from 2 biggest clubs in VGU. I’m thankful to be a small link in the whole chain.

The vocal quality as well as songs selection this year was really amazing. I sang “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran with anh Nguyen, the guitarist mentioned above. And although the performance was far from being perfect, I heard from several friends that they enjoyed it “beautiful singing”, “u still lit”, “it made me happy”, they even recorded and sent me... And trust me, I’m only glad because I could make some of the audiences happy, it was the only consolation at the end of the day. I personally and honestly didn’t understand those compliments, nor did I feel anything about the song, about the fact that I was a part of this concert. I came onto the stage, the extreme light beamed at us and all I could see are black-colored audiences. I didn’t see their faces, I didn’t have a clue how they were feeling. Were they bored or satisfied? It’s not about what the answer is, it’s about me having absolutely no belief in my performance. It was all acting, no emotions. Why can I say so, because I know what is like to “have belief” while singing. it’s when you just sing your hearts out and don’t give a damn on how the audience look like because you know they’re feeling with you, you don’t need to make sure by checking their facial expression and guessing if they’re satisfied or not.

I always talk to myself, no matter what bad things happen during the day, if at the end of the day when I lie down and about to sleep, I feel good, then it means I’ve had a good day. It was the same expectation towards the concert. I was hoping it could be a happy, memorable ending to my 4 boring years at VGU.

I know for sure there are many students like me at VGU who don’t feel any connection to the school nor other people at the campus. I’m not alone. But instead of being cool about it like many could do (you just simple seek another environment where you fit in), I was freak out. I was longing for the sense of belonging to this university, after I made a tough choice to leave home, leaving a mess behind me and move forward, I was an excited fresh who wanted VGU to be a happy, inspiring part of my youth. At the same time, I was all by myself. My brother was at the time struggling with his own marriage. Vi Anh is in Hanoi and we only chatted once in a while. My is in Japan, for years we nearly had no contact and I thought at some point I must let her go... Doug and Nhi went to BYU and I thought I might lose them as well... Other close friends were also away. I was lonely, i was desperate, i was ashamed.

For the record, there was an only truly happy and long lasting moment relating to VGU. It was the trip to Binh Lap with anh Quan, anh Huy, and Thien Tam. If you guys ever come across this note, I wanna thank you. It was the best thing happened to me during my VGU years.

This fourth year has been mind-blowing to me. I skipped the first semester to stay in Saigon for a part time job. And in the second semester I travel between 2 places. And suddenly I’m not a wallflower here in Saigon. For the first time in so many years, I don’t just watch, I am actively involved. For the first time in many years, the better version I talked about in the beginning and I, become one. I plan out my life, learn new things by my choice, meet new people and, many of them I make great friends, we exchange information and experiences, we help each other growth professionally and as a person. And above all things, My has decided to come back to Vietnam, and I realized after all the lost years, we still get each other's back. We reunited the gang along with Vi Anh and it was full of laughter. Many other friends have also recontacted and so it happened that we still exist in each other's life.

I love Saigon, for that it has been sweet and healing to me. I feel a sense of belonging, of living not just surviving. I guess the only reason for me to insist not staying overnight in Binh Duong was that after so many troubles, the fact that I could be back to the city for just a few hours sleeping, makes me feel safe, like “I’m at home at last”.

Of course, I didn’t get over VGU or Binh Duong easily. I wept out like a little girl but knew it was a “letting go” kind of crying. You know when you wish so much that things would work out between you and that person, it takes a while for you to accept that you’re not meant to be and you can move on and still live happily. Last night was the end to all my unrealistic hope. I felt absolutely nothing. No fun, no connection with the people, the atmosphere there. As soon as I finished the performance, I sneaked out into a dark conference room, playing with my phone while waiting for my friend to drive me back to Saigon.

I’m happy for those young and fun people I saw yesterday who has found themselves there, congrats to you, you will be like a close friend of mine who left VGU and his friends with tears of farewell. It’s also nice for me to be assured that people like me could still build beautiful memories elsewhere and be happy. In the end, we’re the only negative force of ourselves, no one can force us to do things we don’t want to.

[cryingbilldenbrough]

Hc that after Georgie disappears Eddie notices that Bill is acting different, that he's tired & distant & not eating, & to Eddie everything has to be a physical ailment so he tries desperately to comfort Bill but it's like, "here have medicine for this!!" & it's hard for him to understand that's Bill's sad not sick & that your ~brain can be sick but he tries in his own way?? Idk where I'm going w this I just had to share the thought of poor Eddie trying to fix his friend with bandaids & pills

OKAY so this is VERY OLD but i got a message from E this morning asking about sick bill denbrough and i remembered i started something for this prompt MONTHS AGO and never finished it! so here we are, a very very long thing that really got away from me lmao! enjoy some kaspbrough hurt/comfort!! 

Bill has dark circles under his eyes.

Eddie notices it third period, when Mr. Johansen tells the class to consult with their seat neighbors about tonight’s homework assignment. Eddie spins around in his desk and turns to see Bill with his head pillowed on his elbows. He raises his head when Eddie moves, blinking slowly and stifling a yawn.

“You okay, Bill?” Eddie asks, taking in his friend’s pale skin and tired eyes. Bill looks like he hasn’t slept in a week and Eddie can’t believe he’d missed Bill’s appearance when he came into class. Bill shrugs, just the lightest lift of his shoulder, and grabs his pencil. He looks between Eddie’s face and his blank notebook paper, bare of notes from the class period, and Eddie tries not to notice the way Bill squints as if he’s having trouble focusing on what’s in front of his face.

“W-what are we s-supposed to be d-d-doing again?” Bill asks, and his voice is hoarse. Now that Eddie’s concentrating, he can tell that Bill’s throat rasps every time he takes a breath, like he’s got a sore throat. Bill winces as he swallows and that’s the final straw.

“You’re sick,” he says. His own tone is flat and Bill looks at him with wide eyes, as if Eddie’s a moment away from running. But Eddie’s been working on this lately and he would rather comfort his friend than worry about his own foolish irrational fears. 

“I’m f-fine,” Bill promises, clearing his throat. It doesn’t make him sound any healthier and Eddie eyes him warily. Before Eddie can insist on marching Bill down to the nurse’s office personally, the bell rings and Bill gathers up his notebook and pencil case. He smiles apologetically at Eddie and books it out of class, leaving Eddie sitting at his desk feeling completely like he missed something.

He doesn’t have class again with Bill until sixth period Reading and by that time Eddie has completely forgotten about his earlier worry because Bill looks just fine. His skin is back to its usual color and he grins at Eddie when he walks into the room.

“Hey, Eds,” Bill says, voice strong, and Eddie forgets all about his fear. He smiles at Bill and sits down in the desk next to his and pulls out his homework.

The next time Eddie notices, it’s lunch time on a Tuesday and Bill has no lunchbox in front of him. He’s talking animatedly to Richie and Stan and no one else seems to notice he’s not eating. It’s not even like Bill forgot his box lunch and had to buy school lunch, Bill doesn’t even go through the line. He draws no attention to the fact he’s skipping lunch and that’s when Eddie notices his cheekbones. Bill has always been skinny, too lanky and tall to keep any meat on his bones, but god he looks downright scrawny now. His cheeks are sunken and his skin is pale and fuck, how could Eddie have forgotten? How did he miss Bill continuing to get sicker and sicker?

Eddie wonders if maybe this is all the after-effects of It, his ability to somehow miss his friend looking deader and deader. Is the fog convincing him Bill looks fine, looks healthy and alive until Eddie takes a closer look and sees his flushed cheeks and sweating hairline.

He waits for a lull in conversation and then slides a hair closer, blinking to see if somehow the fog comes back.

And it does. For one moment, when Bill tips his head back to laugh at something Richie says, he looks perfectly normal. His hair shines in the light and his eyes are bright but then Eddie blinks again and he’s dying.

It’s not like a nightmare, not like the way It manifested as the leper, because Bill looks like he’s actually dying, the slow way. There’s no over-dramatic pus and leathery skin and rattling cough. Bill just plain looks cold, looks pale and sad and sallow.

Eddie presses into Bill’s side, disguising it as reaching across him to grab one of Richie’s grapes, and tries to get a read on Bill’s temperature. He’s definitely feverish, his thigh hot even through his jeans and Eddie’s own slacks. Eddie doesn’t completely move back, stays pressed close to Bill, and listens to his and Richie’s conversation.

He feels it the moment Bill suppresses a shiver, clamps a hand down on his thigh to keep himself from shaking.

That’s the final straw.

“Hey Bill,” Eddie says, low enough that only Bill hears it. “Can I come over after school? I need some help with geometry homework,”

It’s only half a lie.

“S-sure, Eds,” Bill answers, smiling at him wanly. His lips are cracked and chapped and Eddie wants to look away, wants to look away and then come back to a healthy Bill. But he knows it’s a smoke screen, a fake memory trying to make him let Bill die.

Eddie would rather die himself than let Bill go.

“Great,” Eddie makes himself say, standing from the lunch table. “I’ll see you then,”

He grabs his backpack off the floor and slips it over both shoulders and makes to walk away.

“W-w-wait, Eddie,” Bill calls, pointing at Eddie’s abandoned half-eaten lunch tray. “Your lunch,”

“Not hungry,” Eddie says and shoots an arm out to move it into the empty space in front of Bill. “You can have it,”

Bill looks wary, looks like maybe eating would make him feel sicker, but Eddie’s first step in Getting Bill Well Again starts with fucking eating something.

“You can have it,” he repeats, but he phrases it like a command this time. There’s an edge to his voice and Bill doesn’t miss it. He nods, quick like lightning, and picks up Eddie’s fork. There’s a small bit of Eddie that shudders at the thought of Bill using his own used silverware but he pushes it aside if it means Bill gets his strength back up.

“See you later,” Eddie calls again and turns around smiling.

Eddie races home immediately after the final school bell rings. There’s no time to dilly-dally by his locker or shoot the shit with Richie and Ben at the bike rack. He runs to his bike and hops on, flying past the buses loading with tired kids and down the street. He cuts corners, biking over grass and curbs and almost hitting a couple of younger kids from the elementary school down the street.

He rides like a madman and there’s a voice inside him laughing, chuckling out “Hi-Ho Silver, away!” as Eddie ignores the burning in his chest and keeps biking through the tell-tale signs of a beginning asthma attack.

He drops his bike in the front yard, not kicking up the kickstand, and opens the front door as silently as he can.

Just like clockwork, his Ma is passed out in her recliner, daytime soap operas on in the background. He tiptoes past the door to the living room and makes his way to the kitchen.

He picks up a kitchen chair and sets it in front of the medicine cabinet, climbing on it so he can rifle around the shelves. He grabs Tylenol and a hot water bottle and a thermometer and fever reducer. He sets them all down on the counter below, trying not to clatter around too loudly, and goes back in for a second round. He gets a tub of petroleum jelly and Sudafed and children’s Motrin and Vicks vapor rub.

He picks up one of his prescription painkillers, with a name he can’t pronounce, and considers bringing it. Then he remembers DARE class, remembers Henry Bowers’ dad, Derry sheriff, telling them about the dangers of sharing prescriptions and how they can make you sicker. He sets the pill canister back down and steps off the kitchen chair, dragging it back to its place by the table.

He fills his backpack with all his supplies and runs upstairs to grab one last thing before leaving.

“Eddie, dear, where are you going?” He hears from the front room and sighs because he must have woken Ma up.

“Studying at Bill’s,” he calls back, hand on the doorknob.

“Eddie,” she warns and he sighs again. It’s not a concrete warning, he knows he could walk out and she wouldn’t do anything, but it’s the guilt that stops him. He drops his backpack at the door and drags his feet around the corner. HIs Ma is sitting up in her recliner now, a mug of cold tea clutched in her big hands.

Things between him and Ma changed a while ago, but she hasn’t changed her nature, not really. She’s just afraid of him now, afraid of the power he holds over her. Afraid because she knows he could leave at any minute and she would be wrecked.

There’s some part of Eddie that still loves her and that’s the thing he hates most of all.

“What, momma?” he asks and she flinches a little bit at his tired tone.

“Will you be back for supper?” she asks and Eddie sighs again.

“Probably not, momma,” he answers truthfully, fulling expecting to be at Bill’s until late tonight.

“You know I don’t like you riding your bike late at night,” his Ma says. “Not when it gets so dark this time of year,”

“I know, Ma,” he says.

There’s a moment, a beat of them staring each other down and waiting for the other to concede. Eddie could play this game all fucking day, mainly because he knows his Ma is weak and that’s a particular trait he did not inherit.

“Be careful,” she says finally, looking down into her tea.

“I will,” Ed says and spins on his heel to go back outside.

“I love you!” she calls after him, a little desperate.

Eddie doesn’t reply. He just grabs his backpack and lets the front screen door slam shut behind him.

When he gets to Bill’s house, the front door is unlocked. He lets himself in and deposits his shoes by the front door, backpack rattling as he walks down the short hallway into the living room.

There’s a melody drifting through the house and Eddie figures it must be Mrs. Denbrough but no, it’s unpracticed and little rough and Eddie follows it to the dining room to find Bill sitting at the piano bench, plucking at the keys. His shoulders are hunched, spine pressed against the fabric of his shirt and showing every bone. He takes a breath and straightens when he hears Eddie enter the room but it doesn’t make his chest look any stronger.

“H-hey, Eds,” he greets, quiet. The lights in the dining room are off and though it’s nice outside, the room doesn’t have any windows and is dark and cold. Bill runs his hands over the keys and starts playing something sad and slow.

“Haven’t seen you play piano in a while,” Eddie says, remembering the days when he used to come over here for piano lessons years and years ago, sitting on the bench next to Mrs. Denbrough and feeling her hands over his as she taught him basic chords.

“I’m r-r-rusty,” Bill jokes, grinning at Eddie.

Now that he’s here, in Bill’s cold house, Eddie thinks he figured out how Bill got this sick, got this bad without anyone knowing.

“Your parents at work?” Eddie asks and Bill purses his chapped lips and shrugs, just one shoulder.

Eddie hums in response, furrowing his eyebrows, and Bill closes the piano cover over the keys.

“So, g-geometry?” Bill asks and Eddie nods. He hopes when he lifts his backpack up that it doesn’t rattle too much.

“Your room?”

Eddie’s looking for an entry, looking for the perfect moment to spring his Plan on Bill, but there’s just no opening. Bill’s voice is steady when he shows Eddie how to do equations and draw graphs and he doesn’t shiver when he’s sitting cross legged in his own bed.

Eddie spins around in Bill’s desk chair and tries to seem like he doesn’t understand his homework even though he does.

Then Bill starts clearing his throat after every few sentences. It starts slow, just like he’s maybe getting a little tired of talking, but Eddie knows better. He offers Bill a drink from his water bottle and Bill takes it, wincing at he swallows.

Bill sniffs and goes back to teaching.

Then the coughing starts.

It’s slow again, just a few short bursts here and there. It’s dry, like he’s maybe choked on his drink of water or something, but it gets harder and wetter as he keeps coughing.

“Bill?” Eddie says, looking at him in concern as Bill’s face goes bright red. It’s a real whooping cough, the kind that Eddie knows hurts like a fucking bitch deep in your chest. Bill sucks in air and covers his face, turning it into his shoulder as his entire body rocks with the effort of coughing.

He finally stops, taking a big drink out of Eddie’s water bottle and he’s almost finished all the water at this point. He looks at Eddie, red-faced and with tears in his eyes, and that’s the final straw.

“Alright,” Eddie says, standing from the desk chair and grabbing his backpack. He plops it down on Bill’s bed, rattling the whole way, and zips it open.

“W-what’s that?” Bill asks and his voice is shot, scratchy and hoarse and it grates against Eddie’s ears.

“Bill, when was the last time you slept the night through?” Eddie asks, pulling the thermometer out and taking the cap off.

“W-what?” Bill asks, looking startled.

“Nevermind, don’t talk,” Eddie says and shoves the needle under Bill’s tongue. Bill tries to respond but Eddie physically clamps his lips shut. Bill’s chin is clammy under his fingers and Eddie feels the tremors of Bill trying not to shiver, especially noticeable when he’s this close.

They wait in silence until a beep rings out from the thermometer and Eddie takes it out carefully.

100.3. Not particularly dangerous yet, but certainly not good.

Eddie hides the results from Bill and tries to think of what he should  do first. Medication? Pile of blankets? Bath? More water?

He presses closer to Bill and the other boy is leaning into it now, tipping his head down to rest against Eddie’s shoulder and his breath rattles when he inhales. It’s almost like he’s giving in, relieved to finally receive some care and the thought of Bill suffering alone all this time is like a knife to Eddie’s stomach.

Bath, then.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie says and Bill almost whines in his throat when Eddie moves off the bed. He digs in the bag again and pulls out some children’s Motrin.

“Take two of these,” he commands and Bill nods at him. His movements are sluggish, sleepy, and Eddie knows he’s giving in and letting himself be taken care of.

Eddie tracks down the hallway to the bathroom and starts a bath running, testing the temperature of the water with his fingers. He wants it hot, but not too hot. When he deems it fine he plugs the tub and pours in a generous amount of bubble bath, aromatic and soothing. He leaves the room, closing the door so the steam stays in.

Then he runs downstairs with a towel in hand, down to the kitchen. The basement door is closed, having been remodeled after the floods of that Summer. The floor under Eddie’s feet creaks as he takes careful steps toward it.

“It’s for Bill,” he says and reaches out to turn the doorknob.

He flicks the stairway light on with a flinch.

The stairs are new, carpeted and they don’t feel a moment away from giving out under Eddie’s feet like he remembers they used to.

He runs down them, a childish fear keeping him from peering in the dark corner of the basement, and opens the door of the clothes dryer to toss a few towels and blankets in.

He sets the timer for thirty minutes and looks a moment longer to make sure he got it right before turning and running back up the steps. His feet are silent on the stairs and that scares him more than a thundering run would. It seems like anyone could be following him back upstairs now and he would never know until it was too late.

He forces himself to close the door without looking back behind him.

Once back upstairs, he checks on the bath. The bubbles are big and smell amazing and the water is hot enough that Eddie knows it’ll do the trick. He leaves the bathroom again, trying to keep the steam in, and returns to Bill’s room.

His backpack is still on the bed, different medications spread out around Bill’s hunched form, and Bill seems to be dozing. It’s not sleep, not real rest at all, because it’s fitful. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lip is caught between his teeth.

He lets out a low sound and Eddie taps on the door to wake him.

“Bill,” he says and Bill’s eyes open. They’re hazy, unfocused, and god how did they miss it for so long because they’re not as blue as they used to be. How did Eddie not noticed the light leaving Bill’s eyes, eyes he’s loved since before he can remember?

Eddie steps forward and reaches a hand out to steady Bill as he climbs out of bed. His shirt is sticking to his feverish skin and Eddie rubs a hand over his back as he leads him to the bathroom.

The door lets out a wave of steam as it opens and Eddie watches Bill take a deep breath of humid air and hold it in.

“You just get in the bath,” Eddie commands, voice soft. He doesn’t want to break the tentative trust in the air, the soft hesitance as Bill lets Eddie lead him around and take care of him. Bill nods, chin tipped down touching his chest and he looks over at the bathtub. Eddie shuts the door behind him and lets Bill get undressed.

While Bill takes his bath, Eddie returns to Bill’s bedroom. He gathers up all the meds back into his backpack and strips the sheets from Bill’s bed. They’re rumpled and pilled and Eddie wonders when the last time Bill’s mom did the laundry. He goes over to Bill’s closet and sees his pants and shirts folded haphazardly, clumsy like a kid would do, and Eddie thinks maybe Bill’s been doing all this by himself for a long time.

He remakes Bill’s bed with soft faded sheets he finds in the hallway linen closet. They’re a little musty and have spaceships on them, old and faded, but they’re clean and that’s what matters to Eddie.

The comforter goes back on, folded over so Bill can slip inside easily, and Eddie hears a faint beep from the dryer downstairs as it finishes the load.

The basement isn’t scary this time, partly because Eddie’s already conquered it, but also because he’s distracted by the warm feeling of taking care of Bill that’s settled itself in the pit of his stomach.

The blankets and towels are hot and Eddie runs back up the stairs, hoping to keep them that way by pressing them against his chest.

He knocks on the door to the bathroom, Bill calling out a faint “come in,” and he swings the door open.

Bill’s got his knees drawn up to his chest, shoulder’s slipped down and submerged in the water. The steam curls around the air, fogging the mirror, and Bill’s cheeks are pink from the heat.

“Feel good?” Eddie asks, setting the warm towels down on the corner of the sink. Bill nods, splashing water around his chin. His hair is stuck to his forehead, hanging dull and limp and still dry around the crown of his head.

“You wash your hair yet?” Eddie asks and Bill colors deeper, shaking his head and looking down at the water. “You want me to?”

There’s beat where Eddie thinks he crossed the invisible line, went too far in his quest to take care of Bill. He thinks Bill’s going to throw him out and return to school tomorrow looking sicker and sicker and Eddie’s not going to be able to do anything about it because he weirded him out.

But Bill nods, shy, and accepts the invite.

It’s a little awkward, placement of Eddie kneeling down at the side of the tub. Bill angles a little bit, turning around so his back is to Eddie, and his knees are still to his chest.

Eddie leans over and grabs the shampoo from the side of the tub and he uses the other hand to cup a handful of water to rinse Bill’s hair. Bill shivers as it runs down over his neck and Eddie shushes him soothingly, just a whoosh of breath out of his teeth.

He massages the shampoo into Bill’s hair and Bill relaxes bonelessly against the side of the tub. His knees fall to one side as he slides further into the water and Eddie peeks around to see Bill has his eyes closed, face lax as he leans into Eddie’s touch.

Eddie cups his hands and brings the soapy water up to wash the shampoo out of Bill’s hair. It shines in the light of the bathroom, finally clean and almost back to its usual luster.

This close up, Eddie sees the little bits of red in Bill’s hair, the highlights that he usually only sees in the summer when Bill spends a lot of time outside soaking up the sun.

He realizes it’s been a long time since he’s been alone with his best friend and Eddie suddenly misses that Summer long ago, the summer he spent riding at Bill’s side. It was the worst summer of his life but he sure did enjoy it, didn’t he?

When he blinks back to reality, Bill is dozing again. It’s a soothing sleep this time, his eyebrows relaxed and his hand on the side of the tub limp. Eddie doesn’t want to rouse him but the water is already cooling and Bill needs to sleep in his bed.

“C’mon, Bill,” Eddie says, quiet. He touches Bill’s wet shoulder and rouses him. Bill blinks hard and nods, dazed and sleepy. Eddie gets up and dries his arms on the hand towel hanging by the sink and then grabs the warm towels. They’ve kept their heat, held in by the steam of the bath, and Eddie hands one to Bill. He takes it and Eddie turns as he steps out of the bath. The water splashes as his weight displaces it, and Eddie turns back around to see Bill with the towel wrapped around his waist.

He’s too skinny. His ribs stick out and his collarbones are sharp and Eddie hates seeing him like this. He makes it his next mission to get a fucking home-cooked meal into Bill.

He steps forward with the second towel and Bill furrows his eyebrows at him as he wraps it tight around Bill’s shoulders. The fabric isn’t as soft as Eddie would like it to be, still a little coarse, but it’s warm and it does the trick. Bill makes a humming sound low in his throat and leans into Eddie’s side as they leave the warm comfort of the bathroom and make the seemingly endless trek back to Bill’s room.

Eddie turns around again as Bill changes into a pair of pajamas, a matching set that Eddie remembers from sleepovers at Bill’s house. They hang off him now, too short in the legs and sleeves but too big in the chest and waist.

“Nap time,” Eddie says and Bill cracks a smile at him with heavy eyelids. Eddie watches as Bill pauses as he goes to crawl into bed, fingering the new sheets.

“T-these are Guh-Georgie’s,” he says and his voice is still hoarse but the steam seems to have made it better. Eddie takes in his words and freezes.

“I’m sorry, I grabbed them from the closet, I can get other ones,” he starts, rambling an apology out. The other sheets in the closet looked too big for Bill’s bed to Eddie but he guesses he could make them work by tucking them just right.

“N-no,” Bill says. He’s still looking down at them and Eddie feels like such a dick for making Bill sad when he’s already sick. “I love them,”

He sits down on the edge of the bed and Eddie remembers one last thing. One last thing his Ma used to do that actually made him feel better.

“Wait,” Eddie says and riffles around in his backpack again. He pulls out the tub of Vicks and tosses it to Bill. “Put some of this on?”

“Where?” Bill asks, looking down at the container in confusion. Eddie sighs, realizing he probably should have known Bill’s never used it before, and shoos Bill to scoot over.

“Turn around,” he commands and Bill does so, facing away from him. Eddie opens the container and scoops a genorous amount of the goopey ointment out, warming it between his hands, and then plucks Bill’s shirt back and spread it over his back. It goes over his neck and down almost to his lower back.

Then Eddie makes Bill turn around so he can do the same to his chest, rubbing it over his clavicle and up around his throat. Bill closes his eyes as Eddie rubs the medicine in, eyelashes dark against his pale cheeks.

“Do you have warm socks?” Eddie asks, breath ghosting over Bill’s face. The boy doesn’t open his eyes as he nods, just points over in the vague direction of his dresser.

Eddie finds the warmest looking fleece pair and then rubs Vicks over the bottoms of Bill’s feet and then covers them in the socks, squeezing Bill’s toes before straightening.

“Now nap,” Eddie says and Bill is all too ready to comply. He pulls the comforters around his shoulders and settles onto his side, facing the window. It’s almost evening, sun setting behind the rows and rows of houses, and Eddie turns the desk lamp off. He grabs the two blankets he put in the dryer, one from Bill’s floor and one he brought from home.

It’s his baby blanket, the tattered thing he has faint memories of dragging around behind him as a toddler. It’s old and stained but it’s always made Eddie feel better when he’s been actually sick. He never had any younger siblings to pass it down to but he supposes Bill is good enough for that. He tucks it up around Bill’s shoulders, Bill already halfway to sleep, and then steps back to admire his work.

He refills a glass of water and sets it by Bill’s bed, along with a pack of coughdrops and the tub of Vicks.

Bill’s bedroom door squeals as he shuts it behind himself and Eddie walks out of Bill’s house with the feeling of a job well done making his chest feel light.

The next day, Bill walks into school looking healthier again.

He’s still skinny, arms small beneath the sleeves of his baseball tee, but his hair is shiny again. He’s got color in his face and he smiles at Eddie privately during third period, ducking his head to hide the blush on his face as Eddie tells him he looks well.

Eddie’s so proud of himself that he doesn’t stop for a moment to consider if this is It at work, convincing him he’s healed Bill when actually Bill is just as sick as before. He doesn’t wonder if the sound of Bill’s voice, strong and healthy, is just the smokescreen at work.

The fog is thick again and Bill Denbrough is healthy in Eddie’s eyes once more.

send me prompts/headcanons/requests!

#kaspbrough #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #it movie #it stephen king #pretty gen tbh #hurt comfort #my writing #also completely un-betaed im late to work as is i dont got time to reread LMAO #hope this makes you happy anon if u are even still around to see this!!!!!!

[peachnymphuniverse]

little things i love/love to do -smell my fingers after peeling an orange -sit on my roof late at night  -playing uke under the porch while it rains  -opening my windows when it’s chilly and bundle up  -slide around in fuzzy socks while my dog chases me -paint my nails and take it off around ten minutes later  -when my ukulele strings leave dents in my newly painted nails  -listen to my broken record player so that the song registers in my head as a little off key  -journal about people’s smiles  -in airports i walk around and smile at everyone and get sad if they don’t smile in response (sometimes i double back and repeat the process until they do) -talk to people i’ve just met in the way i wish i did to the people i’ve known  -make cookies and dance in the kitchen  -close my eyes and guess what flavor jelly bean i get -buy razzles and read in the merc  -new sheets  -freshly cleaned hair  -playing with short (relatively guy) hair  -making tea after a rough day  -nailing a song first try  -sweaters from thrift stores  -the feeling when a stranger is nice to me  -cheeks hurting from laughing so hard  -sporadic adrenaline and finally doing the thing -almond milk over ice -this one gray and pink plate my mom got  -mismatching soft patterns on my bed  -cuddles with pets (or humans on a good day) -the warmth that occurs when someone calls me beautiful  -shiny hair  -writing a good song that makes you feel something  -piling blankets and pillows in a corner and reading  -my mom asking me if i’m happy everyday (and legitimately caring about the answer)  -any type of garnier hair product (smells hella good) -the use of the word heck in any context  -flowers and flower tattoos  -when my sister compliments me (its like the highest form of praise in my life) -the temperature tea is at when it’s hot enough to warm your whole body but not too hot that it burns  -tea that has too much honey  -hummingbirds in general  -my dads laugh  -seeing people kiss (not in a creepy way i just really enjoy love) -guys in sweaters and pastel colors  -incense from rockin rudy’s  -new pj’s -my cat  -the sting of hot showers  -speaking native languages  -people who take random pictures of me  -kale salad -dresses that make me look coot -the smell of burning paper -hugs  -soup -people who give me their hoodies  -making jokes during movies  -folded chips -the farmers market when it rains  -people with warm hands  -people with cold hands  -people (ik i say otherwise but people are actually v wonderful sometimes)  -cinnamon on hot cocoa  -finding a song that relates to your life  -stars  -blue eyes  -baths with music and tea  -wearing my stepdads sweaters  -making a really nice house in sims  -nice teachers @franzen @elder  -people with nice eyebrows #envy -buying people coffee  -going downtown alone for a few hours and not talking while reading or drinking tea  -airports  -beaches (the smell mostly)  -vanilla perfume  -waking up when the blankets are still perfectly in place  -when i’m wearing shorts and my warm kitty curls up on my bare legs  -layers (button down, sweater, jean jacket) -pretzels with peanut butter  -yellow  -new socks  -citrus smelling stuff  -dark chocolate  -old cameras  -rose and mint flavored lip balm -tiger lilies and sunflowers  -when my hair is damp and my head gets it warm -rupi kaur -new watercolors  -thrift store vinyls  -mike and eleven  -knee high socks -overalls  -big flannels + jean jackets -popcorn with chulula  -drive around in my moms convertible  -japanese cherry blossoms  -going to the library with @anna everyday -finding a new song and listening to it till you know each word -rain (the smell) -crunching leaves  -the stars at 2am -using my kitty as a pillow when she’s curled up  -playing the piano (badly) -white curtains -photo booths  -nice handwriting  -earrings  -being under a bunch of blankets  -pretty journal pages  -hugs when it’s cold out  -ink drawings  -making my bed -the fact that my favorite band has a song called hannah -genuine laughs and smiles  -warm soup on cold days  -new jackets  -thick socks  -when it’s cold outside but you have a v good coat and ur all toasty and happy  -soft blankets  -finishing homework early  -fetal position+big sweaters+floor=happy hannah -making up chords on the uke and giving them names like bartholomew and furghi -remembering inside jokes from forever ago and laughing  -laughing so hard you’re incapable of breathing  -belting theatre music when home alone  -suppa warm bagels  -chess w/ tea and mi madre  -making spotify playlists for every mood  -pretty journals  -yellow -knowing little quirks about my friends -asking little questions back and forth with someone i care about  -freckles  -boys eyelashes  -hiking alone  -my soft doggy  -post-it note quotes  -edamame beans with a lil salt at 3 am  -my new mattress (praise the lawd) -getting stuff in the mail  -the people who actually read all of these lmao -long hair (rly missing mine rn)  -big shirts w no pants  -people who have specific smells ex. cotton, lemons, lavender, cinnamon -hugging tall people  -watching the previews before the movie  -messy scribbly handwriting (i think really good handwriting is lacking in character)  -this one picture of my dad from the eighties  -sweet potatoes  -people who use the word beautiful instead of hot  -spoken poetry  -asking boys what their favorite flower is (odds are they actually have one)  -waking up on sundays and making myself breakfast  -being hydrated: drink water kids  -almond milk w a bit of nutmeg + cinnamon  -mixing different teas (i’ve concluded that mandarin orange + ginger is v good) -knowing you somehow made someone’s day better -people who play with my hair -picture books with good plots  -sparkling apple cider  -asmr (lol don’t judge me) -realizing the other day that i am pretty, and if you don’t think so, that’s ok.  -popping popcorn perfectly (ur welcome for the alliteration) -waking up ten minutes before your alarm  -elevators arriving right as you push the button  -warm winter days, today was v nice  -powder blue shirts  -hearing a song from ages ago and realizing that you know every word -plugging your phone in at 1% -the amount of hugs i get every day  -cuddles  -painting myself or people -when a boring class is over @science  -watching a movie after thinking about it for a while  -packing for a plane ride  -new ringtones  -going to the merc and getting the last muffin there  -holding hands with people in a platonic way  -hugs from behind  -comfort food (ex. brown rice and tofu w spinach)  -crème brulèe -driving at night or in the rain  -the way it feels when this certain person says my name -soft hands + long fingers  -mild weather -putting my hand out of the car when it’s chilly  -nail-polish that peels off in one piece  -messy/curly hair  -new pj’s  -hugs that last a while  -giving birthday presents  -calling my cat bean  -“hannah bee” (nickname from my mam)  -cinnamon gum  -noice cancelling headphones  -calling people by their full names  -stiles stilinski falling  -new soap  -brown eyes  -long eyelashes  -soft breathing  -bronze  -swearing but not actually swearing (heck, darn) -fetal position anywhere  -being hydrated  -nose highlight -small stuffed animals  -chocolate milk w straws  -my sister  -having paint left on my hands  -light gray shirts on people  -pillow forts -highways at night  -bumper stickers  -drinking sparkling apple cider out of wine glasses  -when my room is hot + i put my hand on a cold wall -hearing my cat purr  -catching people looking at me and just smiling at them  -hugs that nearly make me fall over  -or that squeeze so tight you have to readjust your footing -new pads of paper -dropping a toxic person/thing and feeling weightless -my new room -shopping w my sister  -eating hot dogs in target w my sister  -friends who ask if you’re ok randomly  -when lil asks how my day went  -singing fallout boy/ed sheeran/bad rap w reya -chocolate cake  -washi tape + journals  -kicking a ball really hard to relive stress  -p4 spanish  -hearing nice things people say abt me -having a messily clean room (w a few things scattered around)  -walking around downtown w tea and friends  -hot pockets (new discovery for me circa monday)  -cracking my neck, knuckles, back -having a heater in my room and always being warm -taking my hair down when it’s still a lil damp and being able to smell shampoo  -a teal 1987 ford bronco in my neighborhood -slow orchestra music  -piano solos  -watching mystery movies and figuring it out before the people do  -subtitles  -protective friends  -today being the first day i haven’t felt spaced out in years  -old book smell  -rain-soaked hair -resting my head on someone’s warm chest or arms  -the acoustic versions of songs i like  -the three people who i’m ok w calling me banana  -how i don’t swear unintentionally anymore  -21 questions  -sleeping at school  -cutting pancakes into triangles  -jim and pam  -jelly beans  -perfect pancakes -tucking my cat into the crook of my stomach  -the office  -empty movie theaters  -coke zero w a straw -the smol boy me and kenzie became friends with  -my package came today -the way my mom sings to her houseplants  -being tickled  -sofffftttt kitty pawssss -sleeping in really late cause i normally wake up early  -golden milk -lullabies  -granola w yogurt + maple syrup + cinnamon -sleeping on the ground in my moms office -big sweaters tucked into jeans  -mad-libs  -collaging -thin sweatshirts  -drinking soup out of mugs  -small straws  -target hot dogs

[zuzusexytiems]

tagged by @babyfairybaekhyun to post unecessary information about yours truly lmao THANKS BAE

also i answered this last friday and saved it on my drafts so the first part of this doesn’t exactly count anymore ack

THE LAST: 1. Drink: white coffee which I mixed some milo into 2. Phone call: My uber driver asking me where I was 3. Text message: An appointment confirmation from my therapist 4. Song you listened to: Homesick at Space Camp - Fall Out Boy 5. Time you cried: The other night bc I read this stupid VIctuuri oneshot based off of PS I Love You aND THEY FUCKING KILLED OFF VICTOR WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS TO MYSELF UDJHSUIJ @randomrissarush HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: I’m not even sure tbh lmao 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Yeah. 8. Been cheated on: No 9. Lost someone special: Yeah. 10. Been depressed: Yes. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Yeah. LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12-14: Pink, blue, ochre yellow IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: Yep. 16. Fallen out of love: Wasn’t even in love with anyone in the first place lmao #sadlyf 17. Laughed until you cried: Not sure tbh 18. Found out someone was talking about you: Yeah. The older you get, the more you realize how inevitable that shit is, lbr. 19. Met someone who changed you: Yeah. Not in a very good way though, no. 20. Found out who your friends are: Already have for a while now. @randomrissarush 56. Pair of trainers: I’m not sure how I’m supposed to answer this?? Like do you mean I own a pair trainers or…? :)))

MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: Not at the moment 58. Drinking: Nothing 59. I’m about to: leave the office 61. Waiting for: The Legend of Korra comics coming in October uhfjkdhsfnusj 62. Want: I don’t know I want lots of things and I’m really fucking lonely 63. Get married: if I meet the right person, then yeah 64. Career: I’m a copywriter but I’m planning on taking my masters in clinical psychology

WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses: hugs 66. Lips or eyes: Eyes 67. Shorter or taller: taller 68. Older or younger: Younger (but not too much, like 2-3 years is my cap off lol) 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Arms (cus I like soft bellies)(would not be opposed to abs tho ngl) 71. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive af 72. Hook up or relationship: either 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a stranger: No 75. Drank hard liquor: yeah 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: No, I’ve never had or needed either 77. Turned someone down: Yeah. 78. Sex in the first date: Nope 79. Broken someone’s heart: Yeah. 80. Had your heart broken: Yeah. 81. Been arrested: No 82. Cried when someone died: Yes 83. Fallen for a friend: Yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: Learning to (struggling to. rather) 85. Miracles: Yeah 86. Love at first sight: Maybe. It doesn’t happen to everyone but I do think it’s possible 87. Santa Claus: …no? 88. Kiss in the first date: Depends. I’m leaning towards a no rn though 89. Angels: ehhh sometimes 90. Current best friends name: CURRENT??? @randomrissarush THIS IS NEVER GOING TO CHANGE, EXCUSE ME. Also Bea, Jara, E.Y. and Apoline @heart-peen 91. Eyecolor: Dark brown 92. Favorite movie: Big Fish 

gonna tag @randomrissarush @impalakatara @savingprimrose @muse-of-chaos@littledevil26 @writeme123@pettypingpongpaddle @p-t-f-s @lekoppafandoms @beifongheiress @lithafox@paper-jamz 

enjoy!

#sharing tiems #tag thing

[thetaekooklibrary]

Usually i only read fics that are either complete or have been updated recently because i hate discontinued fics and not knowing what happens. I recently just finished reading a discontinued fic though (insanity love, which i found through here lol) and even though it's discontinued i loved the albeit short ride I went through while reading it. So I was wondering if you know any good fics that are either discontinued/havent been updated in a long time since i may have skipped over them. thanks!!

oh man this is just torture idk why you’d want to do this to yourself but yeah I’ll give you what I can find lmao

forever doesn’t sound so bad if it’s with you by pulqfiction - Taehyung’s done a lot of dumb shit. But getting drunk and shoving his hand up a vending machine while crying his eyes out over a chocolate bar in front of Jeon Jeongguk definitely takes the cake.

(I loved this fic so much I’m sO SAD TO THAT IT’S OFFICIALLY DISCONTINUED)

kiss with a fist by taehyunggy - Taehyung and Jungkook hate each other. They get drunk. Things happen.

Call Me Sir (Or A Good Boy) by jeonggukhyung - In which Taehyung is the new science teacher and Jeongguk is a shitty teen that always flirts with him.

beneath the skin by waltzformula - Falling in love with someone is a lot easier when you aren’t constantly at each other’s throats.

Too Hot (Hot Damn) by snowmoney - It was actually kind of funny, because if Taehyung wasn’t such an incompetent cook he wouldn’t have set his apartment on fire, and if he hadn’t set his apartment on fire, he wouldn’t have met the love of his fucking life. AKA Taehyung nearly burns down his apartment and Jeongguk is the firefighter that saves him.

Silvermoon Starlight by foolishbangtan - Sometimes, dreams have a stronger meaning than Taehyung might think.

(this is one of my fave fics and I’m suffering because I NEED the last chapter but who knows if/when we’ll get it ;u;)

Of clueless mates and stupid best friends by Chihiro - Taehyung somehow adopts a wolf and finds himself a possessive stalker at the same time. Jimin is 500% done with everything.

Damon’s Conviction by eclairdeluxe - Loving him, Jungkook supposes, was as inevitable as that first peek of light across the horizon at sunrise, creeping up and then encompassing him all at once.

Of 2.5 Million Subscribers, Bush Hats, and Passion by neorago - YouTubers!au. In which Jeon Jungkook may take the phrase, “I’d rather die than live without passion” a little too seriously, Kim Taehyung meets his idol, and Park Jimin just constantly shakes his head at all the idiocy.

The Absolution of Jeon Jungkook, Slytherin by yeoubi - “Gryffindors again?” “No,” Jungkook answered. “Seriously, leave it, Yoongi-hyung. It’s not a big deal.” “I’m just curious. No need to be so defensive, Jungkook.” Yoongi took another bite and looked off to the side before giving him an unreadable glance. “You’re not invincible, you know.” “I know,” Jungkook mumbled automatically.

Stop My Heart by wowoashley - “What does it feel like?” “What?” “Knowing you fixed the heart of the man who broke yours?”

The Walls of My Conscience by taetertot - Taehyung played with the sweater stretched over his hands, his gaze dropping to the empty booth space next to him in the restaurant, eyeing the card, his dorky writing in bubbly letters laughing at him: ‘Happy 1st Anniversary Hyung!’ He chewed on his straw, trying to blink away the tears. ‘I don’t think he’s coming.’ A thump in the mini booth facing him startled him, and he looked up. Someone had sat down across from him, but… it wasn’t his boyfriend. “Hey, babe, sorry I’m late, the traffic was just insane, and I got held up at the office,” he exclaimed quite loudly, glancing awkwardly around the room while yelling it. The people who had been watching Taehyung turned back to themselves. Taehyung’s eyes widened at the boy in front of him. “Just… play along, okay?” the young man says to him, leaning in closer so that only the boy across from him could hear it. Taehyung’s eyes widened.

got a question or request? check our tags page first to see if what you’re looking for is already there, or use the search bar on our blog! if you don’t have any luck with that, feel free to send us an ask when the inbox is open^^

#taekook #vkook #taeguk #wip #anonymous #ask rec

[nadi-nadi]

100 questions tag

tagged by @justkeeponsimming obvi 💕

1. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR CLOSET DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED? closed, because i never leave them open omg

2. DO YOU TAKE THE SHAMPOOS AND CONDITIONER BOTTLES FROM HOTELS? no, mine are better

3. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR SHEETS TUCKED IN OR OUT? i had to google what does it mean and i think they’re out

4. HAVE YOU STOLEN A STREET SIGN BEFORE? no, everybody knows i’m a good girl, officer

5. DO YOU LIKE TO USE POST-IT NOTES? only to note what i want others to buy me

6. DO YOU CUT OUT COUPONS BUT THEN NEVER USE THEM? imagine having coupons in poland, can’t relate

7. WOULD YOU RATHER BE ATTACKED BY A BIG BEAR OR A SWARM OF BEES? bees, at least i’d have a chance to live

8. DO YOU HAVE FRECKLES? no, but i wish i had some, freckles are soooo cute

9. DO YOU ALWAYS SMILE FOR PICTURES? mostly, because if i don’t i look like a rude cunt

10. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE? oh boy, i could write an essay on my pet peeves

11. DO YOU EVER COUNT YOUR STEPS WHEN YOU WALK? no, but lemme tell you i make like 3 and a half a day

12. HAVE YOU PEED IN THE WOODS? boy, i lived next to a forest for 12 years, of course i did

13. HAVE YOU EVER POOPED IN THE WOODS? not sure, but i guess so?

14. DO YOU EVER DANCE EVEN IF THERES NO MUSIC PLAYING? yehhh

15. DO YOU CHEW YOUR PENS AND PENCILS? no, it’s gross but i do chew on straws (and i drink all cold drinks though a straw)

16. HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH THIS WEEK? none, i’m such a virgin

17. WHAT SIZE IS YOUR BED? idk? 1,5 person??

18. WHAT IS YOUR SONG OF THE WEEK? annie lennox - don’t let it bring you down

19. IS IT OK FOR GUYS TO WEAR PINK? iS iT oK FoR GuYs To WeAr PiNk?

20. DO YOU STILL WATCH CARTOONS? no, i don’t really watch anything rn

21. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE? anything with adam sander, i hate his guts

22. WHERE WOULD YOU BURY HIDDEN TREASURE IF YOU HAD SOME? up in my ass

23. WHAT DO YOU DRINK WITH DINNER? water with lemons, i only drink water now

24. WHAT DO YOU DIP A CHICKEN NUGGET IN? sand, chickens really love sand baths, they might become stressed when they don’t have some sand to bathe in :(

25. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FOOD? i don’t know, i don’t care about food too much? i like vegan pizza tho

26. WHAT MOVIES COULD YOU WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND STILL LOVE? kill bill, american beauty

27. LAST PERSON, YOU KISSED/KISSED YOU? some random guy at a party, but it was a long time ago

28. WERE YOU EVER A BOY/GIRL SCOUT? no, i was too lazy

29. WOULD YOU EVER STRIP OR POSE NUDE IN A MAGAZINE? if my titties were a lil bit bigger then sure, i love myself

30. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A LETTER TO SOMEONE ON PAPER? 12 or 13 years ago me and my friend were writing letters because WE WERE KIDS AND I DIDN’T HAVE INTERNET BACK THEN

31. CAN YOU CHANGE THE OIL ON A CAR? no, it gets you dirty

32. EVER GOTTEN A SPEEDING TICKET? but...

33. EVER RAN OUT OF GAS? i don’t even have a car nor a driver’s licence

34. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF SANDWICH? i like sandwiches!!! with avocado, all kinds of vegan shit or with peanut butter

35. BEST THING TO EAT FOR BREAKFAST? i only drink green tea for breakfast, how sad

36. WHAT IS YOUR USUAL BEDTIME? midnight - 1am mostly

37. ARE YOU LAZY? is lana del rey the most beautiful woman in the world?

38. WHEN YOU WERE A KID, WHAT DID YOU DRESS UP AS FOR HALLOWEEN? we don’t celebrate halloween in this shithole

39. WHAT IS YOUR CHINESE ASTROLOGICAL SIGN? the ox!!

40. HOW MANY LANGUAGES CAN YOU SPEAK? polish, english, a lil bit of russian and i used to learn german but lmao the only thing i can say is “ich habe keine lust”

41. DO YOU HAVE ANY MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTIONS? no, but now i wish i lived in the uk and subscribed to elle ehh

42. WHICH ARE BETTER: LEGOS OR LINCOLN LOGS? the fuck are lincoln logs lmaoooo

43. ARE YOU STUBBORN? as fuck

44. WHO IS BETTER: LENO OR LETTERMAN? dude i’m from poland, have some mercy

45. EVER WATCH SOAP OPERAS? used to watch muñeca brava when i was little lmao

46. ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS? yesss, but i’m slowly overcoming the fear

47. DO YOU SING IN THE CAR? when i’m riding with my mom (this is our song) or with my brother

48. DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER? yes, i always start with florida kilos, then lolita and i like to end the show with black beauty (all by ldr)

49. DO YOU DANCE IN THE CAR? sometimes, yes

50. EVER USED A GUN? does a bow count?

51. LAST TIME YOU GOT A PORTRAIT TAKEN BY A PHOTOGRAPHER? when i was 7

52. DO YOU THINK MUSICALS ARE CHEESY? yes! but some of them are iconic (hsm!!!!)

53. IS CHRISTMAS STRESSFUL? i only get the second hand stress from everyone around me, i don’t celebrate christmas anymore

54. EVER EAT A PIEROGI? UM YESS?? i don’t like them that much but they’re so popular in poland omg

55. FAVORITE TYPE OF FRUIT PIE? i... don’t eat pies :(

56. OCCUPATIONS YOU WANTED TO BE WHEN YOU WERE A KID? a hoe, a singer, a doctor, an architect blah blah, i just wanna be a sb now

57. DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS? kinda

58. EVER HAVE A DEJA-VU FEELING? all the time

59. DO YOU TAKE A VITAMIN DAILY? not daily, but i take b12 weekly

60. DO YOU WEAR SLIPPERS? y e s, do you guys walk around your house barefoot or what

61. DO YOU WEAR A BATH ROBE? rn? no. sometimes? yes.

62. WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO BED? p a j a m a s you naughty

63. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CONCERT? like... a concert of a person i really wanted to see? then none. but i’m seeing lana in august ahhhh

64. WALMART, TARGET, OR KMART? biedronka, tesco or lidl?

65. NIKE OR ADIDAS? both or none, idk

66. CHEETOS OR FRITOS? what are fritos :(

67. PEANUTS OR SUNFLOWER SEEDS? NUTS

68. EVER HEAR OF THE GROUP TRES BIEN? noo? ever hear of our lord and savior lana del rey?

69. EVER TAKE DANCE LESSONS? not really, unfortunately

70. IS THERE A PROFESSION YOU PICTURE YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE DOING? something that gets him lots of $$, idc what

71. CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE? :( no :(

72. EVER WON A SPELLING BEE? we don’t have thoooose, because in polish you spell everything the way it’s written, it wouldn’t be fun at all lmao

73. HAVE YOU EVER CRIED BECAUSE YOU WERE SO HAPPY? yeah, probably but i cry VERY rarely

74. OWN ANY RECORD ALBUMS? i don’t, but my dad has shit ton of old classics

75. OWN A RECORD PLAYER? as above - my dad has one

76. DO YOU REGULARLY BURN INCENSE? regularly? no. sometimes? yehh

77. EVER BEEN IN LOVE? i only ever loved lana

78. WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IN CONCERT? lana (obvi), the weeknd, cupcakke, marina

79. WHAT WAS THE LAST CONCERT YOU SAW? some shitband, i don’t even remember their name

80. HOT TEA OR COLD TEA? how much do you need to hate yourself to drink cold tea

81. TEA OR COFFEE? green tea, because HeAlThY

82. SUGAR COOKIES OR SNICKERDOODLES? sugar daddies

83. CAN YOU SWIM WELL? i haven’t swam in like 8 years, but i think i still could, the only thing is i’m afraid of wetting my hair

84. CAN YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH WITHOUT HOLDING YOUR NOSE? for like 20 secs yes

85. ARE YOU PATIENT? very patient, maybe even too patient

86. DJ OR BAND AT A WEDDING? what wedding aksjdlasfklaj I DON’T KNOW HER

87. EVER WON A CONTEST? yes, i won katy perry’s album once lmaoo

88. HAVE YOU EVER HAD PLASTIC SURGERY? not yet *winky dinky*

89. WHICH ARE BETTER: BLACK OR GREEN OLIVES? none, olives are disgusting

90. CAN YOU KNIT OR CROCHET? my mom taught me how to knit but i don’t remember anymore

91. BEST ROOM FOR A FIREPLACE? fireplace in every roooooooom

92. DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED? NO.

93. IF MARRIED, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN MARRIED? ugh

94. WHO WAS YOUR HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH? i had some crushes, but they were all trash

95. DO YOU CRY AND THROW A FIT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR OWN WAY? i’m not gonna cry nor throw a fit, but i WILL get my own way, mostly

96. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? yikes, don’t even say that

97. DO YOU WANT KIDS? no i don’t, life’s so much more than getting married and fucking like rabbits

98. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR? yellow

99. DO YOU MISS ANYONE RIGHT NOW? my mommy, my brother, my bff, also can you miss someone you’ve never seen? if so, then lana

100. WHO ARE YOU GOING TO TAG TO DO THIS TAG NEXT?

no one sksklafl but it was fun

#tag #nonsims #saviorhide