#the quality is disgusting but IM VIBRATING

[w00nderfulll]

Where Anger Manifests

Uhm so, in the spirit of Halloween, my English teacher gave us a creatice writing assignment where we had to write a spooky story and then turn it in at the end of class.

Anyways, I thought Id share it with the world cause why not

Disclaimer: I am not at fault for any shitty writing istg i literally only had one class period to come up with a plot and characters and whatever and like- i didnt even plan it out or edit it so im SORRY if it sounds like a wattpad story im SORRYY

also, trigger warning <3 lots of blood and a mention of murder

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

“No, Emily! I told you I don’t want to do this!” Dylan yelled in a whisper, frustrated that her friend wouldn't listen. 

“Why not?” Emily huffed.

“Because it’s late and it’s cold and I’m tired! It’s nearly 2am Em! I want to go to bed…” The night was dark and cold, the wind howling like a crying hungry wolf. Big black clouds covered the sky, threatening to open their hatches and bleed the ocean any minute now. “Plus, it’s probably going to rain soon, I’d rather not get caught in a storm and get all wet and gross.” 

“Ugh..” Emily pouted “You are such a lame-o.” The tall girl said while rolling her eyes in annoyance. 

“You know what?” Emily asked Dylan, her tone growing ever more scathing “I’ll just go without you, you clearly don’t know how to have fun. Like Christ Dylan, it’s Halloween and you don’t even want to have fun.” 

“I had fun!” Dylan cried, so confused as to why her best friend was acting like such a jerk all of a sudden. Well… maybe not all of a sudden, but lately. Lately Emily has been just so… mean. Maybe it was just the new school year, the new influence of new people. Emily had always been a dainty little flower, leaning any which way the wind would blow her. Whatever. Hopefully she'll get over it soon. Dylan was getting tired of her garbage.

“Whatever,” Emily muttered, “No one would even want you there anyways. I was just trying to be nice, but obviously your short measly little self can handle kindness.” And with that, the snotty witch turned around and started walking towards the party, leaving Dylan in the middle of the road. 

The wind only blew harder. 

“What the hell…” Dylan’s face contorted into confusion and disgust. Then came the tight squeezing in the back of her throat, the painful tingling at the tip of her nose. Her vision became blurry, and warm streaks began running down her cheeks. 

Suddenly, she heard strange noises in the distance behind her. Kind of like screaming, only there was a certain buzz to it… revving? The sound got louder and louder and… she looked behind her. Lights. Very bright lights.

Shit.

Dylan jumped out of the way just in time, before the car got a chance to hit her. She gasped, and her heart was beating out of her chest, maybe about to explode. Dylan really needed to get home.

The girl started her long walk home, and in her walk she was mad. Mad at Emily ditching her and mad at Emily for being so rude. Why was Emily acting like that? 

The wind blew harder, Dylan shivered. 

Lightning crashed and lit up the sky, all different colors of purple and red and blue. Then came thunder, the great sound of it vibrating Dylan to her core. Finally, the rain fell down from the sky, bleeding from the clouds. The rain was blood. It was thick with blood… wait, blood? Dylan looked up at the sky, it began bleeding and everything around her turned a deep shade of scarlet. Dylan continued down the street, her walk turning into more of a fast jog.

More lightning flashed, although this time the thunder sounded less like thunder and had more the quality of a low pig’s snort. Pigs. Dylan hated pigs. 

Dylan’s breathing sped up, and for a second she just stood there in the middle of the street again. Frozen in confusion and fear. Then came a scream, an utter terrifyingly loud scream. The scream of a woman who had just witnessed her babies murder. Or maybe more like she was getting murdered. 

This woke Dylan from her trance, and she began running. Running and running and running. Running away from God knows what. She was absolutely terrified. Dylan kept running as more and more blood rained from the sky, the clouds now all encompassing, blocking out any signs of sky. 

The sound of a yelling cat getting its tail stepped on reverberated through the air, startling Dylan as she tripped and fell onto the ground, face-planting into the puddles of blood that now threatened to flood the Earth. Dylan felt like she was spinning, a cartwheel rotating on the ground but refusing to land. 

The blood-soaked girl tried getting up and failed, falling again. She started screaming, blood curdling cries. Then she looked down and realized she had gotten up a second time. Again she ran and ran. The world began spinning around her once more, swirling and blurring. Screams surrounded her, invading her thoughts, going into her mind. Below the loud high whistling of the wind and shrill of her’s and unknown beings screams, there was a low sizzling bass. Popping, crackling electricity. 

The world kept spinning and Dylan started to feel like she was falling again. Falling fast and tumbling and falling and falling and falling… All of Dylan’s senses were scrambled and she felt her stomach float up into her ribcage. Dylan’s eyes felt as if they would explode, pressure building up behind her sockets as her forehead began to get that dull sick feeling.

The screaming got louder and the falling got faster and red began to infiltrate all of Dylan’s visions. She felt sick and sticky and wet, but after a while everything became a blur, and a sensory overload came on and she soon felt nothing but the sensation of her limbs and organs swimming and flying apart. Eventually the red faded, the feelings went numb, and everything turned to black.

#halloween #original story #short story #writers on tumblr #original short story #halloween short story

[katherines]

GERALT AND CIRI Teaser Trailer | The Witcher Season 2 Premiering December 17th on Netflix

#cinemapix #userbecca #dailynetflix #tvseriessource #cirigeralt #geralt of rivia #ciri of cintra #the witcher #thewitcheredit #gifs* #the quality is disgusting but IM VIBRATING

[vanityloves]

🎫 here's a gush pass! feel free to gush about whichever f/o you want, however much you want, then send this ask to 3 other selfshippers!

oh man, thank you jsjsj ive gotten a few of these but ive been too anxious to actually go off ab my f/o but, lets fucking gooooo!

can i talk ab the actual animation of the source material is that allowed?

they gave us this but we ended up with

WHICH LISTEN- I enjoy n love regardless. I just find the contrasts in phases fascinating and funny. I loved his appearance in phases 1 and 2; what a fucking iconic character design. The animation is so endearing and amazing- the thicker lines, the fluidity, the range. Like the first gif that shows the vibrations of the vehicle in his shoulders/shirt? The simplistic art style was nice and even if hes Hard On The Eyes, I'm like 🥴 ok ugly ❤.

Not like the newer mvs are any less quality content - its nice to see the use of thick and thinner lines and there's definitely a different feel to it - more child friendly or easy going? Idk how to explain it. Murdoc as a character is still very, Not Child Friendly, and Im always like :cursed emoji: when someone says that their 14 year old watches their videos like help, his dick is out in at least 3 dif vids (censored ofc but man).

They definitely lost me after the 4th phase though and many people argue that the band/music lost its meaning, which i can honestly agree with (esp when they didnt name officially name 4, 5 and 6. Im p sure ppl refer to 4 as We Are Still Humanz).

I was never an avid/active fan of keeping up with the characters and didnt really think they had any story anyways, i was like "feel good inc is sexy. melancholy hill's a banger" so honestly, finding out that these apes actually have lore was fun.

Murdoc being the given this tragic backstory made my eyes Zoom, and ofc I was like "oh youre funny looking and sad. I want you ♡." In a weird way, I take a lot of comfort that 'we both have shit parents' and 'no one really thought we'd amount to anything'. to be fair, i haven't accomplished anything yet, and even if hes a bunch of pixels who i know doesnt really exist, its kind of motivating bc he never gave up? A literal quote from him being "If there’s a dream in your heart, never let anyone tell you you’ve got no talent. Get out there, embarrass yourself, and prove to the world you’ve got no talent." With how many failures hes faced he never stopped trying to prove himself worthy of attention and fame and love, which is ambitious and kind of intimidating with how much confidnece he has.

Hes a complete bastard of a man and not even close to being a good person. He's definitely complicated but can be boiled down to "just an abusive asshole", which, hey, fair. I hate the way he treats 2D, its so toxic and terrible. Honestly, its inexcusable and he needs to apologize, grow and learn a LOT and god knows he needs therapy.

I think the most tragic thing ab his character is that he basically ended up like his father and to some extent, he acknowledges it. His bad habits and behaviors stem from abuse and neglect which doesnt excuse his actions but, "man hands on misery to man." I feel like theres a haunting part to his whole life - we don't know much about his mother and brother but from assuming things, I know they weren't innocent, clean, or soft spoken, let alone, kind. I think he has a "It runs in the family" mentality and gives into it bc there's no use in running from something so deeply engraved within him.

But as a man of contradiction, hes shown to care, despite "hating everything, including himself". To be short, his father was a failure and a man thats never worked for his own money, so he contradicts that and escapes that part of 'failure running in the family' by forming Gorillaz. I do think theres something way more ab his character in that regard. I think theres a lot that he needs to work on but he's escaped a part of that mindset, and his 'Plastic Beach'. I wonder what theyre gonna do with valley of the pagans thing.

I guess as a band, theyre not gonna show a lot of "behind the scenes" stuff like that. We wont know if he ever gets help, or apologizes, or even feels sorry - its up to us to decide which is a safe game to play on Their Behalf.

People are upset that hes actually cleaned up a bit and is shown to be nicer bc they miss having that disgusting, cruel man which again, I understand. He has always been the antagonist to the entire band. But as someone that likes to see people happier n mellow (or, boring) rather than doing shit and compensating for their depression, its nice to see that type of development (or downgrade, depending on how you see it).

This could be Their (read: jamie and damon) way of being lazy by making him 'mellow out w/ age' or whatever it is. It definitely seems to woobify his character and intentions but well, His Main Goal, Was To Blow Up. And Act Like He Dont Know Nobodaaayyy argargarg and guess what? He's already made it- he's successful, he's rich, he's famous, he's adored. Now what? Maybe this is just his way of taking it easy from here on out - who knows.

Gorillaz definitely took a turn after all the brand deals so it lost its meaning (since one of the phases had a 'fuck capitalism' message) and with that, Murdoc is no longer allowed to be the stank bitch hes was always meant to be, no more obvious sex and drugs, for the new gen 🥴 ironically a lot of songs 'today' are always complained ab being ab sex, drugs, and whatever, but they def needed to step on the breaks when Money/Companies got involved. So here we have The Wigglez 😌💕

ANYWAYS, I LOVE HIM LOTS, HAVING MANY THOUGHTS

#please dont ask why i have these saved 🥴 #ask reply #oh this ones long haha sorry #gorillaz rambles #gushing #modi!!! #thank you for this i needed to say sumn semi coherent

[lisforlobotomy]

I'm riding shotgun in the car earlier this afternoon, window down, thoughts somewhere else, as they usually are, when we pull to a stop at a busy intersection red light. I can already sense something unwanted happening to my left, some kind of dramatic stirring. There is a stopped car with 2 men outside of it, huddled over this lifeless lump. Fuck. Someone hit a dog in the street and now hes just here, on display.

"Oh no..." This man hit a midsized, blonde, mixed breed dog is laying on his side, flecked with spatters of blood that was beginning to congeal in the Texas humidity. Slicks of tufts of short hair pointed in all directions. The amount of blood was alarming to me; it was all around him in these large splotches that were vibrating in contrast with his bright pale fur and making this glowing halo. His blood had probably been ejected out of the wrong orifices upon impact to make a frame around him. His eyes were these huge black orbs that looked like a dolls eyes, open and bugged staring straight up into the sky, fixed and focused on nothing. It was almost peaceful. We all know that almost doesn't count.

My hand clutched my throat, "Oh my god...no..." We made our left turn with the green light and I couldn't take my eyes away, I hated that I had to look because I knew I was only adding to the blooming, hollow, ache behind my sternum and taking part in my own mental abuse but I couldn't stop. I turned my body to hold the scene that was now shifting and settling into the rear window. "That's horrible...I hope they don't just leave him there..." I'm turned away from my partner who is diving because I'm embarrassed at my tears and I'm angry that I cant push them back into my eye sockets with my fists and control them like I try to control everything else around me and Im angry that I feel embarrassed for simply feeling for another living thing...admittedly too much.

When I moved here a couple of years ago, I was made aware immediately of the huge problem here in Oak Cliff with stray animals that no one cares for and animals that have owners but are not cared for enough. They arent kept inside out of painful natural elements or kept out of busy streets and are allowed to roam unprotected. No one spays or neuters their pets either so its just this steady multiplicity of unwanted animals that move in little packs and are left to roll the dice everyday in an overpopulated cesspool of a city populated by...well...not the "best" members of society.

To put in layman's terms, I live in a poor, uneducated, crime infested shithole of a part of town filled with hard, shitty, uncaring people. And its fine because I love the rawness of my neighborhood, and the constant frantic struggling and everyones wing flapping and leg twitching to survive but it is not without the shameful things that I cannot stand up for even though I am always a champion for the things that the rest of the upperclass world looks down upon. Some things are simply ugly with no redeeming qualities and the mistreatment of aninals is one of them.

It reflects how the human majority regards the creatures around us: without thought, with disregard, and with a "not my problem" mindset. All of the things I hate and cannot and will not accept or respect. We are supposed to protect them, we are supposed to be their saviors as much as they save us with their unquestioning worship and predictability. We are the most intelligent beings here and yet a lot of us cant even afford compassion or foresight and it keeps me awake at night with nausea. People like me are keeping the makers of Prozac and Xanax's stocks forever in the clouds. And we still feel helpless when the drugs effects wear away with the dawn.

I dont know where this rant goes or belongs but it had to escape me so its here and I'm sorry for it's ugly theme but I didnt feel like carrying it all by myself to blister up and leave pock marks on my soul. And I want others to be disgusted. Because when humans are disgusted too many times, they break and take care to avoid doing dsigusting and careless things. Dare to dream, at least...

I hope it came fast. I hope it came like a a crashing wave. I hope he wasn't even aware of his traumatic, deconstruction in front of the eyes of the world on the alter of a shitty inner city intersection. I hope he thought it was a dreaming with his ink pooled eyes filled with sky. And I hope he knows somehow that despite his probable lack of belonging here that at least one person saw him for a moment and hurt for him.

I saw you.

#writing #journal #animal death #nature

[ddaenqu]

Tea for Two

pairings: yandere prince!namjoon x fem!reader

themes: Kingdom AU, Angst, Mature, Yandere AU, Arranged Marriage AU

tags: possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, unhealthy behavior/relationship, toxic behavior/relationship, overprotective behavior, arranged marriages, threats, threatening, slight sexism, forced marriage, infidelity mention, mentions of violence, some grotesque scenes of death, explicit langauge, mentions of slaves

a/n: ahhh i finally finished it! i’m sorry if there’s so much mistakes, i tried to edit it as much as possible but sometimes i kind of just write and read, and don’t pick it up. i was sick while writing this and (maybe) still sick when i schedule-post it. the reader’s personality was by far my favorite to write in this one, and i hope you all love her as much as i do!! (and the gif i wanted didn’t work when i tried to save it, SO IM MAD MAD)

based on the prompt: “Say that one more time and I’ll make sure you can never walk again.”

summary: Life wasn’t fair to you, and it didn’t give you happiness, hope, love—neither lemons. It gave you tea. The finest quality there is, in the wrong situations.

The tea tasted horrible, bitter and frothy against the sides of your mouth, the number of sugar cubes you dropped in couldn’t help the bland taste. You’d say this was the worst thing you’ve ever drunk, and that was saying a lot as over the years your senses were built to enjoy even the most bitter and sour, watered-down, and scalding hot drinks.

You forced yourself to take another sip and decided that it truly was the worst. Setting it down onto the glass saucer gently, a small clink resonating through the still room, you looked around—as you have been for the past five minutes. The room didn’t change, you remind yourself, you’re still in the same stupid cushioned seat since you first arrived, and your firm corset is doing well to hide your panicked breathing and nearly accomplishing its goal to crush all of your ribs in record time.

“Another cup? Your grace?” you hear the baritone-like voice of the butler, dressed in a beautifully tailored uniform, gold gleaming from the seams. His hair was dark brown, his eyes glowed brown with speckles of gold, and his kind smile had always done well to keep your behavior at bay.

You waved it off and returned a smile of your own, genuine or fake, you couldn’t tell anymore. “No thank you, Seokjin, I’m fine.”

The room almost jolts to life to the informal address towards Seokjin, one of the many butlers, more commonly called Mr. Kim. But he pays no heed to the informality, he doesn’t mind at all, he’s known you for quite a long time and has figured out along the way, from your awkward teenager days, and to your dumb young adult antics—that you hated honorifics.

His smile never leaves his face, never falters, never twitches. “Are you sure? You’ve only had a cup since coming here. Would you enjoy something else? Your grace?”

“No, thank you though.”

“Of course, your grace.”

The room returns to its quiet state once again, all the maids and butlers are positioned with perfect forms, and the knights stand guardedly by the doors. Although it’s quiet, the one thing anyone loves in this line of work, the room burns in tension. You could feel the eyes of hundreds as they could feel every small movement you make against their cold flesh.

But you’re not one to have an outburst or a temper for that matter. You weren’t allowed to.

To be raised as the daughter of a duke, you’re raised with high expectations.

You had to fit in with any trends that were fashion-related and keep up on them, you didn’t need to know about anything else, not the war—as you couldn’t ever enlist, no woman could. You had to have perfect etiquette when eating or talking. You had to walk in sync with others, couldn’t walk ahead, you were taught to walk in heels and dresses. You had to smile, that was the most important job you were told, they drilled in the thought that even an untalented and useless girl could attract the best with a simple smile.

You were raised to be the embodiment of perfection.

To be the perfect woman—the perfect wife.

You were glad that where you sat, faced with a grand window and offering the kingdom’s garden, and the front of the mansion they lived in, you could see anyone who had arrived. It’s more like a warning for you, to prepare for it, whatever you were preparing for.

At one point you thought if you could really go through with this, to go against everyone’s wishes, most importantly your parents and the queen.

If you were unlucky and turned out unfavorable to the queen, you’d be beheaded or worse—forced to continue on.

The thought of having young children watch your head fall dead as the rest of your body, them finding odd entertainment in something so vile, made your stomach sick, that disgusting tea rising in your throat. The taste stuck to the back of your throat and a gag reflex was seconds away from appearing.

A heavy sigh comes from you as you try to smooth the creases in between your eyebrows, your headache from this morning has returned with a white noise keening in the back of your head and the silence is only making it worse.

“Seokjin, can you get me something cold to drink—water, quickly,” you say, but it’s in an authoritative tone, automatically.

“Of course, your grace,” he replies and turns to get the pitcher of water, setting down a new cup and pouring cold, iced water. All the while, he’s busy boring eyes into your head, noticing all the defined lines, dark bags, and blotchy makeup trying to hide your stress. You hope he has enough sense to not ask.

Seokjin returns the pitcher back to where it sat last time and adds space between you and him, in which you inwardly thank him.

Suddenly, the dark oak doors in the middle of the room open, revealing two men you believe are on the council, and the other being the prince of Esthersa known as Kim Namjoon—your fiancé.

The two shrub-like men standing beside him, small and incompetent compared to his domineering figure. You almost cringed to the fact the whole room had to stop and brighten in awe, and you would say you were almost embarrassed by his grand entry.

“What I’m saying, prince—,” one of the councilmen stop and quickly correct himself, “Your Royal Highness, forgive me, is that it would be better if we sent some of the knights to the south—”

The other quickly cut him off, “war is arising in our neighboring kingdoms, it’s better if we abide them by their rules and arrangements, they had asked—”

Something in Namjoon snaps in seconds and the councilman closes his mouth mid-sentence, a rare sight to see when he was usually a reserved and calm person over the years. His eyes burn in anticipating rage before his lips reach into a grin, you could tell animosity was burning at his patience from the way his body became stiff, for reasons unknown to you.

He turns to the two men who stood behind him like cowering dogs, saying something that you couldn’t hear, but guessing from the two council members reactions, it wasn’t very pleasant, to say the least.

It was odd to see him get worked up so easily over a simple conversation. Most of the time, it had to be his parents or an argument from one of his siblings to make him angry. You’ll have to refrain yourself from asking, nosying wasn’t an attractive trait.

“Mr. Kim,” Namjoon calls and Seokjin, who stood behind you, immediately rushed over to him.

“Show these two gentlemen to the front,” He orders in a calm voice, “and tell the rest of the council members that we will end it there for the day.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” The butler bows to the prince and takes the two pale men away from the room, the doors closing with a bang, the knights regaining their positions.

You hear a deep sigh vibrate the room, Namjoon settling down into the chair across from you where another cup of tea stood untouched and a plate with one scone on it.

Mildly unsettled now that your one person of comfort had left the room, it would be nice to have someone you know to be there if things went wrong.

“I’m sorry for the disruption, they tend to follow when they don’t get what they want,” he explains, although, you already knew that from being around him and his family enough, or anyone who had the title of a noble.

“Typical,” you reply and watch him take a sip from the teacup. “But I did ask to meet unexpectedly without any warning, that is purely my fault.”

He lets out a faint chuckle and his body feels more pliant, still very much aware, yet comfortable in his seat. His eyes softened and his hands were no longer curled into fists as they were before.

The Kim Namjoon you knew appearing before you. The one you’ve known since kids. Grown into all of his features, his baby fat no longer there, dark brown choppy bangs sprawled and swept against his forehead, the bruised he prided in from training became faint, and his awkward, lanky body grew into one of an actual prince.

“It’s fine. I’m sure it’s important, you rarely visit by yourself, so it must be serious,” he assures, “you have all of my attention, love”.

“Yes,” you speak before thinking, the eloquent words you had in your mind began to scramble. You didn’t know if he knew why you were here, his words insinuated that he did—but—he seemed oddly happy. From the way his lips turned into a gracious smile and the use of the pet name, he’s never done that regularly. Or maybe he did? Maybe you’ve never noticed.

Was he maybe expecting something else? You thought, or could he be happy already knowing what you’re about to ask? Perhaps something else had made his day?

From the corner of your eye, you see movement and remember, there are others in the room as you speak, who could hear everything. Even if they did an oath to keep quiet about any private matters containing the royals, you didn’t want a group of spectators watching and making silent judgments when they don’t know anything. It's worse enough to have to speak to Namjoon in person, sending a letter would’ve been more appropriate, but your family had insisted you visit him the moment their eyes landed on the letter meant for him.

“Is it possible for the maids and knights to leave the room?” you whispered, your clammy hands trembling in the fabric of your dress.

Namjoon’s eyes narrow, deep in thought, but his expression keeps still and restrained. His hand goes up and makes a gesture akin to a wave, you’re too afraid to look anywhere that wasn’t his eyes.

Leather shoes clack and shuffle, metal creating a clicking sound like the door of the room shut close, barricading you and him inside, the silence consuming every spot and cup. You were alone with him.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you gulp and he takes another slow sip from his tea, your mouth went dry. “The reason I came to visit was that I wanted to talk about our engagement.”

The words left your mouth, clear, making sure you’re not talking too much or too fast for him.

He raised his eyebrow and shuffled in his seat. Putting his leg over the over, his fingers toying with the curved, gloss handle as the cup rested in its according saucer.

“What about our engagement?” he inquired, interested, “enlighten me.”

“I believe,” you begin and then quickly add, “Your Highness”, to appease your painful anxiety, and to be as formal as you can at this point. “We need to find better solutions to increase the morale of your kingdom.”

“What does this have to do with our engagement? Are you, perhaps, proposing more outings together?” He shuffles once more in his seat, leaning forward. “And, if you’ve forgotten, technically it’s our kingdom.”

You sigh regretfully, you had made it to ambiguous for him to specifically pinpoint what you’re trying to say, anyone would take it the wrong way with how you phrased it, but you feel bad. The words you want to say are too blunt—for someone like Namjoon. Sure, he’s a prince, he’s built on nothing but “bloodlust”, and his expressions only vary to calm and angry-calm, however, he’s been nothing yet kind and equal with you. It feels unfair that you’re the one to bring it up abruptly, to make matters worse, you’re bringing it up before the war has ended, but it must be said, he must’ve already thought of it before.

“No, Namjoon—Your Highness .” Bile rises to your throat, and every word sounds foreign to you as you spoke, “what I’m trying to say is—Your Highness, I want us to annul our engagement.”

The room drops in temperature, which is far-fetched to say, there’s no way for a room to instantly get cold, and yet it does, somehow. The look in Namjoon’s eyes are cold, they’ve always been in some form—but they are just there, they no longer share the emotion his face and body don’t show, the only way you’ve read his answers and him. It’s gone. He’s just the prince.

He becomes slack against the chair, his back pressed against the chair, and his fingers now tapping against the wooden table, lightly, you add.

“‘Us’?” Is the only thing he mentions in his deep and solemn tone.

“Yes,” you continue on with your explanation, the one you’ve perfected over the courses of weeks. “I knew ever since we were engaged you weren’t happy with the choice, it wasn’t ours to begin with.” You look out the window to focus on the maids and other staff flitting about the front yard, relieving of your stress by a mile. “I was only engaged because of my family’s name, known for the looks or talent, well-liked by the people. Ultimately, I was only a sacrifice for peace between the people and you. But you already knew this.”

“I was one of many pawns,” is what you wanted to say. To create this grotesque picture of you being unhappy with this to-satisfy life, to make the biggest moves as everyone sits back and waits until they are called, to be the one taking everything. And to be cast away when you’re not needed anymore and rot with the others who have already played all of their moves.

You did not want to be that.

“I see.” Namjoon reaches for the tea once more and takes a sip, you watch his eyes stare at the bottom of his cup longer than normal, his cheeks were hollowed in from him biting the insides of his cheeks. “Is that truly what you wish for? War is still going on, and my parents will be enraged if I tell them this.”

You breathe in. “This is what I want. I had planned to be kicked from my title from the very start, and I know there are other ways to ensure peace among the people and neighbo—”

“Silence.”

Your mouth screws shut to his order, the malevolence seeping through the cracks of his calm expression, his eyes boring into your skull as the minutes pass, the pressure and guilt beating down on your body. You’re shaking. Your legs are, wobbling and trying to find support by rooting yourself near the legs of your chair, your hands numb with chills running up your arms.

Of all your time with being next to Namjoon, you’ve never seen him snap at you. You thought he didn’t care to, you knew how to put yourself in your place and control your attitude. You’ve never once made him angry.

Well—of course, in this situation he was going to be angry, but you didn’t think he’d be to the point of disgust showing through his tone. He was going to take most of the verbal abuse from his parents and constant begging from your own; saying how he was a coward to let her go, that him choosing to annul the engagement was to bring rebellion in all (for canceling an engagement was a way to tell people you were unloyal and indecisive, and nobody wants that in the future ruler of a kingdom). However, you knew that there were other ways—are other ways, if only he agrees to it.

Marrying another country, one with amazing morale and beautiful benevolence seeping through its kingdom, was the easiest way to ensure happiness among all—but not the fastest. There was bound to be small riots to rise along the way, fighting with cultural differences and the natural “once an enemy, always an enemy” cliché coming to play.

But he was Kim Namjoon, and if you had anything to say about him to someone who has never seen or heard of him, you would say he matched the standards of anyone. No matter too high or too low.

“So, you’ve heard?” His grin pulled into a menacing line.

“Heard what? Namjoon, did I—I mean Your Highness, did I—”

“The council wants me to marry with another kingdom.” His eyes wander to the window and beyond the window, then back to you and your lifeless body. “Is that what made you like this? All of a sudden?”

Does he really think this is stemming from the rumors surrounding him? Not only is he proving the rumors, but not noticing your distaste for this relationship with him from the beginning—he even said so himself that he did not want it.

“No, It’s been my wish since the beginning of this mess, I didn’t know you were being asked to, I was only listing one of the ways I’ve thought of. I’m sorry if I offended you, Your Highness.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply, which most often means he’s thinking. Thinking about what, you don’t know and don’t really want to have an idea of, but you do know that letting you be free of the engagement will be as torturous and burdening for you as it will be to him. Stripped from your noble title and all the power you get from it, every piece of jewelry or dress you’ve owned is burned, and then you’re all too familiar with living with the lower class after a few months. In short, you will become nothing.

 Being nothing is better than this life.

“Alright,” he says after a prolonged silence. “I’ll announce it to my parents, if that’s what you wish for. Truly.”

With elegance, expression flawed and corrupted with disbelief that he had actually agreed when he easily could have said no, you rise from your seat, the chair scraping against the floor. You bow to the lowest your body could allow, offering all of your sincerity in that one bow, offering everything to him. You promise gold and riches to him as he sits in silence, knowing your parents will try to compensate for your “wrongdoing”. Saying more than needed “thank you”’s as your head hanging low in submission.

“I guess—Your Royal Highness,” you say with a meek voice, “this will be the last we see each other.”

Namjoon hums, and the natural fire in his eyes return. Interest.

“Maybe—it will be the last.”

You storm pass guards and guards.

To hell with those damned bastards, you curse as you wrench and try to twist their armored hands away from your arms, the steam burning at the tips of your skin and threatening to fall upon every being in the room beyond these doors.

“Your Highness, what has possessed you?” one of the guards ask, pushing your body against the golden handles of the doors, trying to do so without causing injury.

It’s only natural that they are more worried than upset at your sudden behavior change. You were kind to them, to all, those years of etiquette training had automatically made you into this perfect doll. Anger wasn’t ever present within you, having a temper wasn’t allowed. Just as everything else that made you remotely human wasn’t allowed.

“Let me through those doors, I need to see your prince,” you threaten, wounding your hand tight around an open space where his armor did not cover, gripping with fervor as your nails dig crescents.

“His Highness is working at the moment. He wishes to not have any disturbances, even by you, Your Highness.”

Your Highness.

That title made your insides scorch with blistering pain and a lump to rise to your ears, drowning out the sounds of nearby guards and maids who were witnessing this unfortunate scene.

The two guards that were positioned in front of Nmajoon’s door look at each other with uncertainty. 

“Please compose yourself first, Your Highness, and we will let you in,” one requests, his hold is powerful, and yet it's not bruising on your skin. “We do not mean to be rude, we shall let you in as soon as you are you.”

“Fine,” you spit and the guards, taught to maintain bleak faces, wince to your tone.

As if they had been scolded—and it’s only natural that they do.

They’re being scolded by the next-in-line queen.

You will yourself to lose all hatred at the skin of your face, your features blending into a calm and coordinated smile, one that offered forgiveness, happiness, the well-being of the people were in that smile, your eyes gleaming with unprecedented love.

“May I see your highness?” you ask once more, the softest and lightest tone you could conjure from your hysteria.

The guards nod, metal ringing in the room. They’ve been swept by your façade so easily, expecting that you truly were the kindest human there was to be, completely forgetting your behavior moments before. Their hands individually clasp their sides of the two doors, opening it and revealing an office mixed with a library, a low light pouring into your view.

“Thank you,” is all you say before you enter, the doors closing behind you.

Truly ignorant fools, you think with a gritted grimace, your hands gripping the sides of your dress with a vice-like grip, wanting to rip it from its seams, to destroy it—you want to end it. All of it. Whatever it is.

You take a step forward, like a robot, you remember the way to his corner, where his desk sat and where he sat in the dark like some villain. You remember the guards naturally, it’s not their fault, they aren’t the villains, they are also the pawns of this game, they are the ones beside you. They don’t notice the twitch of your eyebrow, the small details when you smile, your eyes don’t fully crinkle at the sides, your smile doesn’t quite reach your cheeks, they don’t notice it because they only play for the big picture, taking the big picture and making it smaller—and smaller, so the higher-ups can find it of worth or not.

It’s not the people’s fault either, you keep reminding yourself as you turn a corner, another bookshelf. Another corner you turn, this time a small table with a lit lantern and paper stacks arranged side to side. It’s not their faults.

You stand tall, fire burning at the tip of your tongue and your skull splitting into two, hellish images appearing in your thoughts.

That’s right—it was his.

The man—your ex-fiancé and now husband—sitting at his dark oak desk, two lanterns lit in the small, cramped dark, his eyes burning into the page he was looking at with books laid all around. His hair falling out of its perfected form and laying against his forehead.

“What were you thinking?” you snapped, glaring at him.

He’s crazy, he’s absolutely crazy, you believe, that dreadful, unknowing face looking up at you with disinterest, dreadful.

He puts his quill down, interlocking his hands together, and that smile of indifference shows up like magic, his eyes flare with an unknown fever while his elbows prop themselves on the desk.

“What ever do you mean?” he asks slowly, as if you were slow-witted. “Why the face? Did one of my servants happen to anger you?” His face, frowning in solemnity, makes you think he believes his words proudly.

What a dumb and fickle mind he has, you curse.

“No, you know what you did,” you snarled, a violent tone controlling your words before you could reword them. “I told you I wanted it annulled, to hell with it! Now tell me why I’m getting praised by all for being the next queen—Namjoon.”

Fuck your title—“Your Highness”.

“Well,” he begins, “for starters, come—sit, have tea with me. There’s no reason to be mad, I’ll explain myself.”

“Are you playing games with me? Do you understand that your title is on the line?” you shout, getting annoyed with his idiotic antics, as if playing dumb will grant you sympathy. Your feelings are anything but sympathetic.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying, love, and I don’t understand how my title is on the line?” he replies, smooth and eloquent words, although, you can see you’re getting to him. His white-gloved hands are tightening into each other, his shoulders stiff and on a defensive stance. “Enlighten me, sit.”

His hand gestures to one of the chairs, a table next to it with a teacup on a saucer. You can feel the fresh heat from whatever substance is inside that cup, he knew you were coming.

You scoff, standing your ground. “You know that I am not one of your candidates your parents had planned to marry, you know what I am to you—to this damned kingdom.”

“Yes, I understand, I knew,” he sighs. “But with a little convincing, I had made sure they knew I wanted—”

“Namjoon,” you interrupt. “It seems you’ve forgotten, or have chosen to forget.”

His head nods to one side, his patience cracking like that smile of his, eyes that dull with any passion he had before, and instead, replaced with utter hatred. “What did I choose to forget, love?”

You know that tone. The type he uses on others when he doesn’t feel like being disagreed with, one that doesn’t want trouble. It wants complete obedience.

“I wanted this for myself, myself. Namjoon, I don’t want this life,” you partially fumed and pleaded, your eyes weakening into a puppy-like face, edging upon tears. Yet, your tone was still cold. “You even agreed to it, you said you would tell your parents. Just annul it before its too late.”

Namjoon hums, his eyes soften immediately to your face, it always has as you rarely use it. He turns a bit in his chair, looking off to the side and tonguing his cheek, he seems to be in thought. And maybe you forgive him, a part of you wants to, however, the rest just wants it to be over with.

“I didn’t—exactly agree. I never said it. I only said I would announce it to my parents.”

Hatred builds.

“Now come, as I’ve said before multiple of times,” he adds the last part with a light voice, he's deemed that everything is solved. Teasing in a way. “You truly are one stubborn lady, all the more I love.”

Love? This is his love? This was prison, torture.

Stuck within this round-about of a conversation. You come up with the last bit of strength before you really wish death upon this man—and might even go through with it, even if it meant him killing you for trying such a thing.

Death didn’t sound that bad at the moment, compared to what is happening.

“I don’t love you,” you state harshly, “I never have, and never will.”

“Oh please, you can’t tell me you’ve never once thought about marrying me?” he says so lowly, his eyes going back to the papers, trying to conceal the anger and frown growing on his face, you know he is. He’s going to relent and you’ll be free. A sinister man he was, but also a man you’ve been with for years. He had to have somewhat of a heart.

“No. I love someone else—”

Namjoon laughs, a mocking chuckle leaving his mouth. “Don’t be silly—”

“I love someone else, Namjoon. I have no interest in a man like you.” Your eyebrows, by now, have furrowed enough that it was ingrained into your skull from the way it felt. “I never have. I’ve never once wished to be with you. I. Do. Not. Lo—”

You think you’ve finally got him when his face stresses forward enough it’s close to hitting the desk. Your dumb lie of having another lover was a last-minute choice if all fails and goes to hell, at least dig a deeper grave for your own pride.

Then, a hand reaches out and slams on the desk, you can hear something crack under the weight of his hand, the room moves with the noise, vibrating in between your layers and layers of padding for your dress. His head snaps up and you can see a vein appear on his neck, even if the cuff of his jacket covers most of it, you can see it.

The look in his eyes are not dull, are not quiet, are not interested. They’re inhuman. With a vehement glare burning through your flesh, twisting a contorted image within the dark orbs. And that frown twisting into a snarl.

“It seems you’ve forgotten!” he plays in a distant tone, and it’s one that sounds so oddly placed from his angered expression that it scares you, you don’t notice you’re shaking. “I know you—all of you, I know who is in your life, whom you see, whom you talk to. All of it.”

You instinctively take a step back.

“So let me just say, no more arguing, I don’t want to hear it,” he threatens. “If you say that one more time, those dreadful words—you don’t know what you’re saying, darling, really. And I’ll make sure you can never walk again. One way or another.”

“Namjoon. You are mad. You don’t know what you’re saying. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Although, I’ve got your attention now, haven’t I? You didn’t seem to hear me before,” he mocks. “But pain, you don’t care if it’s inflicted on you, and I’ll make sure it hurts. I’ll find whoever else, any being you’ve talked to; your father, your mother, your adorable siblings—they’d be a very nice addition as slaves—even those guards I heard you bickering with.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you say, a gasp leaving your quivering lips, goosebumps rising over your skin. He knew how much you adored your younger siblings.

“Oh, but I would,” he replies instantly, the anger in his eyes dissipate and they are once a void, again.

He watches you closely, you can feel his eyes roam your form, a small chuckle rising from him.

Images of your siblings being used as slaves, seeing them tend to the egotistic royals at such a young age, unconditioned with no resistance to horrid beings. Your servants and family burning at the stake like witches, others throwing their own sharp and bloodied weapons at them. Those guards, with their head down, waiting for their heads to fall before their body.

He was insinuating that their blood would be on your hands. You can’t imagine the guilt that would settle upon you if you ever had the fleeting idea to run away or kill yourself, or argue more.

You’re trapped again. It’s not his parents this time, it’s him.

“So,” he quiets down, the room that was blundering with energy was now light, the power he had felt equal again. “Let us sit and have tea.” No room for discussion as a white noise fills the room.

And you do.

That disgusting tea you hate so much, you finished within seconds.

(feedback is greatly appreciated! thank you for reading! 🧸❤️)

#bts #bts rm #bts suga #bts v #bts jhope #bts jin #bts jimin #bts jungkook #bts kim namjoon #bts namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon #kim namjoon x you #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #yandere kim namjoon #yandere namjoon #yandere au #bts yandere #yandere bts #kpop fanfiction #bts au fanfic #bts aus #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts au #kingdom au #bts arranged marriage au #bts alternative universe

[corset]

🛰️ ✨ 💣 💌

🛰️ - answered

✨ - what do all of your interests have in common, or lack in common? what do you think that says about you?

i tend to gravitate towards things with characters that interest me. a lot of my interests also tend to have intense worldbuilding. i like scifi and fantasy. horror also interests me. i also like robots and cool technology. i don't think it really says anything in particular about me. i know i have a preference for things with good characters that have interesting relationships because i am highly interested in people as a whole.

💣 - what makes you angry? do you feel like you are different when you are angry, or just amplified?

people who profit off of or exploit others, particularly their vulnerabilities. i hate when someone takes advantage of their position of power over other people. this includes being in a situation where they are willingly emotionally vulnerable. those who manipulate someone who has shown them trust disgust me. im also extremely annoyed by those with no spine, or someone who is hypocritical or willing to throw away their principles. i'm not that different went im angry, just louder maybe. if i get angry enough however, i get to a point where im just vibrating with it and i get really quiet and intense? it takes a certain level of anger thats extremely hard to reach with me for me to act Different.

💌 - what do you do to express your love? how does love make you feel? do you know what it sounds like for love to come knocking, or are you still waiting?

quality time or me going out of my way to spend time with or talk to you is a surefire sign that i Particularly like you. im easily tired, and i tend to have to section off time for different people because of this, unfortunately. love makes me feel different things depending on the situation. sometimes it makes me nervous, sometimes it makes me jittery and happy, and other times i feel completely comfortable. love is an extremely intense feeling for me. ive experienced love, but i also feel like im still waiting on some of love's experiences, if that makes any sense.

[no-rx]

you know, im neutral about it having been stolen, but im pretty fucking pissed i lost my bass! and not just that, my amp was disgusting in the bad way, but the bass itself was really good quality, it was like some obscure vintageish bass a family friend wasn't using anymore. i was waiting so long to find an environment i could play again, and it's super frustrating not even have the possibility anymore... i can't express in words how it feels to vibrate and have that feedback with your instrument (also literal feedback is really good) in this way that's really unique and visceral with electric basses.

#hypothetically i think drums would be good for me to get into but id miss being able to make chordal textures #also ive been playing bass-range instruments since forever and drums since never #so like i think my ear for rhythm is rly good just in general and from playing bass-range instruments #but maybe its better to stick to what i know

[princeyandanxiety]

The "ask me things" ask - all of them!!! Or if that's too insane, do the first 20 and the last 20 :p

The answers are short bc i was rushing them haha but ill put em under the read more

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say?

… I would be very, very freaked out. Words would not be said. Only screaming.

2. What’s going on between you and the last person you kissed?

I saw him last month. No offense, but he cannot write a decent speech.

3. If your boyfriend or girlfriend was into drugs, would you care?

Depending on the drug, it’d vary from “please just make sure you’re safe” to “oh god how do i convince you that this is a bad idea [panicky pharmacist daughter vibrating]”

4. Is your last name longer than six letters?

[counts letters on fingers] yes!

5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober?

Sober.

6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up?

Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyep

7. What does your last received text say?

“Ok, see you next week. Thanks. :)”8. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed?

Once.

9. Where was your last kiss at?

Kindergarten classroom. In my primary school.

10. When is the last time you saw your sister?

[checks time] uh like an hour ago?

11. What do you drink in the morning?

Water or cinnamon orange tea

12. Where did you sleep last night?

My bed.

13. Do you think relationships are hard?

They’re a lot of work, but they’re ultimately a choice that both people have to make. I’d like to hope that they’re ultimately worth it.

14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you?

Mostly test results.

15. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, any problems?

“Oh, hey, we haven’t talked in like 6 years. How’s life?”

16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy?

Sunny.

17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you?

Lmao fuck no.

18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants?

Pj pants!

19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now?

Yes. Because I’ll have finished my HSC.

20. Does anyone like you?

Yes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S?

No. Only an A, a T, and another A.

22. Is the last person you kissed gay?

[shrugs[

23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand?

There are multiple. Be more specific.

24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?

Yeah but I’m a fucking wuss haha I’d probs pass out from the pain or something.

25. In the past week have you cried?

I cried like 9  hours ago lmao

26. What breed was the last dog you saw?

TOY POODLE!

27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower?

Who the fuck dries themself in the shower? It’s all watery in there. Foot mats exist for a reason.

28. Have you ever kissed a football player?

nnnnnnnnnnnnnope

29. Do you think you’re old?

Sometimes i feel a little old, but I know that I’m still pretty damn young

30. Do you like text messaging?

Lmao I prefer it to calling that’s for damn sure. I dont actually text all that much tho. Mostly because the people i’d text have free messenger services anyway. That or the bill for texting them would be pretty fuckin pricey.

31. What type of day are you having?

It’s on the better side of neutral.

32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced?

Nooooo thanks. I got my ears pieced when I was like 3 and that was enough for me!

33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather?

Mildly cold weather.

34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you?

Yes! He’s been my friend since kindergarten haha

35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling?

relationship because i am a massive romantic (whICH REMINDS ME-)

36. Are you a simple or complicated person?

Is anyone actually simple? Like really? There are always so many different parts to one person, so many intricacies and contradictions, good and bad, that they might not even think about.

… so im probably a more complicated person haha.

37. What song are you listening to?

Nice2KnoU by All Time Low i love it sooooo muuuuuuch38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it?

Most of the time, yeah.

39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you?Ooooooh yeah. They probably have the most power to wreck me lmao.

40. What made you start liking the person you like now?

Okay in my defense I didn’t realise I actually liked them until my brain was like “lmao what if you had a crush on this person” and I was like “oh. oh fuck. I actually do have a crush on them” but i think it was a few things. they always make me smile, and they don’t mind that i can be a clingy motherfucker. They’re also funny and super sweet, and they have such an amazing mind and personality. Tbh im not entirely surprised that i fell for them because when i click with someone as well as i initially did with them i tend to develop feelings pretty quickly from there.

41. When did you last receive a text message?5:14 pm

42. What is wrong with you right now?Do you have the time to hear the answer to that?

43. How well do you know the last female you texted?Eh. She’s a  teacher.

44. Does anyone disgust you?

Yes.45. Would you date someone right now if they asked?Unfortunately, no, probably not.

46. Are you in a good mood right now?{come back to this}

47. Who was the last person you talked to in person?My mum

48. What color shirt are you wearing?

Black. Like my soul.49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear?Yes.

50. Anyone you’re giving up on?

Yeah. Myself.51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for?

… yes because he turned out to be a dick.

52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t?See above.

53. Do you like rain?I frikkin’ love it

54. Do you care if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks?Not really. I’d only be really worried if it was unhealthy levels of drinking.

55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them?

… Lmao I always tend to admit it eventually, I think. A few times I’ve been like “oh yeah, I used to have a crush on you haha” 56. Do you like to cuddle?

Never… actually… cuddled before...

57. Are you shy?

Eh, it depends. 58. Do you get along with girls?

I tend to get along better with girls than guys tbh but when I was younger I always had a lot of girl cousins and at primary school it was always pretty divided between boys and girls

59. Have you dated the person you texted last?Fuck. no.

60. What do you carry with you at all times?

My phone 61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you?

… maybe. 62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months?I sure as hell hope I can

63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship?

Ahhh, the beginning of HSC. I was so young then. So hopeful.

Too bad my soul has been squashed. 64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute?

… Bells has just passed out from thinking about this please leave a message after the beep *beeeeep*65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week?

My friend did really well on an important test and she was super happy about it haha

66. How old are the last three people you kissed?

Between 17 and 18.

67. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself?    I like doing my own nails but tbh I *really* wanna get them done one day.

68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print?    

How about neither????69. Do you have any stickers on your car?    Nah

70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?    Who?

71. Blackberry, Anroid, or iPhone?    Android!

72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut?    

Fuck if I know lmao73. Do you like diet soda?    

Ew no74. What color are the walls in your room?    

Varying shades of purple

75. Are you 16 or older?    Yep!

76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars?    Nope!

77. Do you have a job?    

Double nope!  78. What are your initials?    

Identification.79. Did you ever have braces?    

Got ‘em right now haha80. Are you from the south?    

I COME FROM A LAND DOWN UNDER so technically yeah

81. What does your last status on facebook say?    “How does a worried Hispanic person count to three?Uno, dos, stress.”

82. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed?    Lol no I don't even know if he's alive

83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad?    

Mum :)84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?    

I did gymnastics in kindergarten!

I hated it.85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters?    

Probably Moana?86. Do you smoke?   

Nah 87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops?    

THONGS M888. Is your phone touch screen?    

Yes.89. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?    

My hair is straight than I am most of the time.90. Have you ever snuck out of your house?    Haha no.91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?

Pool   92. Have you ever made out in a car?    Nope

93. …Had sex in a car?    Double nope

94. Are you single or in a relationship?    Single!

95. What were you doing last night at midnight?    Sleeping like a baby

96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks?  

In person? A few years, now.  

97. Do you like the camera on your phone?   Yes. because i have a samsung galaxy s7 now. My s3 had the picture quality of a potato.

98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits?    Nope.

99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?    THREE MORE MONTHS. But no not yet

100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?    Uh theres one person that i’ve been holding a grudge against for fucking ever but other than that no?

101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? … look bayer and bayer would be getting sued if i was pregnant.

102. Name your favorite Kesha song:    C’mon

103. Do you have any tan lines right now?

Nah its winter so im all long shirts and knee socks rn   104. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts? 

Idk maybe

#ask #ask tag #anon #in which bells makes a sneaky admission #its not a massive thing lmao but *finger guns*