#and yeah i haven't kept up with all of them something im so so guilty about

[princekirijo]

Finally graduated haha let's go 🥹

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

"im not trying to fix you."

~1k words

Jason Todd is broken, but he’s not shattered. He’s picked up the pieces of himself and stitched them back together in a patchwork pattern that seems to mock who he used to be.

Jason Todd is splintered, but he’s making it work, he’s helping, he’s trying to be something greater than himself. (Even if ‘greater’ includes killing and hurting and a million other things he’d never thought he’d do)

Jason Todd is built of fragments of twisted morals and poisoned pits, so why, why do you keep showing up in his life? He doesn’t get it. He’s worked through all the scenarios, all the possibilities, and he still doesn’t have an answer.

You haven’t tried placing any bugs or cameras in his safehouse, haven't gone to the bat to try and take him down. (At least not that he knows of) You haven’t tried talking him out of taking over Gotham, and you haven’t even mentioned all the bodies piling up in his crusade against Black Mask.

He should have confronted you weeks ago. But you keep doing nice things for him. He still hasn’t figured out how you found his safehouse, but you showed up with takeout from his favorite restaurant and just kind of walked in. Really, he had been too stunned to stop you, and you kept showing up.

You always seemed to have a reason to be there, too. Blankets because his safehouse looked bare, food so you could cook dinner for the two of you, random knick knacks to bring color to his dull living room.

He wonders if you're doing it to make him feel guilty, to keep him from kicking you out of his space. As if he would ever.

It’s not until you’re telling him he should get his oven fixed so the next time you make brownies they'll cook better, that he realizes exactly what you’re trying to do.

You’re trying to make him better. He sees it now, he’s your pet project, no, your pity project that you think you can save. He doesn’t know how he could have missed it. Why else would you so freely offer your smiles? Your time? Your energy?

“You can’t fix me,” he grits out, crossing his arms as you set the brownies on the counter.

You look surprised, disbelieving even, as you pull off the oven mitts. (The ones he didn’t have before you started coming over) “What,” you question, meeting his gaze like he hasn’t found you out.

“You can’t fix me,” he repeats, harder and just as mean, “I’m not something you need to try and save.”

“I’m not trying to fix you,” you snap, and the tone of your voice makes him lose his confidence.

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. Oh. It sounds like you really mean that. He didn’t expect the hurt and anger to flicker over your face. And he certainly didn’t expect to see your face wobble.

“Is that why you think I’m here, Jason? Because you think I want to save you,” you ask, venom creeping into your voice.

“Well, yeah,” he mumbles, almost ashamed, but he doesn’t drop his gaze from yours, “There’s no other reason you’d keep coming back.”

That seems to break you, and he nearly regrets bringing up the topic at all. “Is that what you’ve thought of me this whole time,” you breathe out, anger fading.

He shakes his head, “No, I mean– I thought you were working for Batman,” he admits, and winces at how devastated you look.

“Then why did you let me come back,” you demand, and he hates the way your voice chokes at the end.

“I don’t know,” he tells you, voice going quiet, “I guess I just got used to it.” It’s a lie.He knows exactly why he keeps opening his door for you. You're a weakness he’s never outgrown, and one he never will.

You step back, eyes darting to the cooling brownies, “I just missed you,” you mumble, clearly self-conscious, “It wasn’t anything more than that.”

“Oh,” he says dumbly. There really isn’t anything else to say. He’s hurt you, thrown accusations with no basis.

He doesn’t know how to make it better, but a part of him doesn’t think he should. If you never came back, then at least you would be away from his sharp edges and his fractured parts.

The silence stretches between you like a chasm, and suddenly he does want to mend whatever he broke. He can’t help it, not when you look like you don’t know if you want to cry or run or curl into yourself and just fall apart.

He doesn’t have a plan, and maybe he should, because all he manages to do is gesture weakly to the brownies you’ve made, “Think they’re ready to eat?”

You eye him strangely, but he thinks he does succeed in fixing something. At least he hopes he did, because you sat on his lumpy couch and ate the brownies out of the pan at his side. So that has to count for something, right?

He finds it in himself to tell you they’re good, which is harder than it should be for a crime lord, and you offer him a small, unsure smile and ask if he wants to watch a movie. Your smile isn’t as bright as it usually is, but he figures he wouldn’t deserve it if it was.

The rest of the night is quiet, and you fall asleep on his couch just before the credits start to roll. He’s grateful for it. (He thinks if you had walked out after the movie, you wouldn’t have come back)

Jason carefully pulls a blanket over your shoulders, one of the ones you brought him, to shield you from the cold. He makes a note to get a better couch, even if he knows it would be better to not encourage you to come back.

After all, he’s only going to find another way to break your heart. Even when it’s the last thing he wants to do.

[pink-crayon-princess]

look. this is an agedre blog, yeah? I just like doin all this stuff because it's fun! I don't really regress.

... at least i didn't think, until the other night.

(tw: bein' sad, nothin' serious. actually kinda sounds like a fanfic but i swear this is 100% true)

i dunno what happened. I was making my dollie, right? and I curled up her hair? but it was all tangly and knotty and I couldn't brush it anymore ... n idk. I was just really sad. i wanted to make her pretty and then i ruined her.

im not sure why, but for some reason it reminded me of when my friends didn't say goodbye before they left me. it happens a lot, even just a few months ago ... they promise they'll be friends forever and then don't talk to me anymore. it feels like I did something wrong even though I know I didn't. im not good at making friends either (my college friends don't live near me) so im pretty alone ... and im scared that nobody will ever stay. besides baba.

luckily he was there when I started crying. baba and i don't really interact much when im playin', but he helped me stand up and get in bed and cuddled me as soon as he saw. I felt so sad and then i felt so bad for crying, and i kept saying sorry sorry sorry, and he kept asking why i felt sorry, and i didn't know, because i knew he wasn't mad at me, but it felt like he was mad in my tummy.

im good at talking, but then it was really hard to talk, n i kept saying things in my tiny voice and i was so scared ... i felt really ... little. like i was crying as a baby and not me.

(i get the guilty feeling in my tummy for no reason a lot when im big, but it was so so so much worse when i was small)

somehow i told him that i was feelin' really little, and that i didn't like it. baba didn't mind, he just wanted me to feel better, so he gave me lots of kisses and talked to me until i wasn't cryin' as much. he's really good at that. I got my paci and my bluey stuffie out to go to sleep.

I just wonder ... why do I only feel tiny when I'm having a meltdown? I like pretending im tiny, but ... i only feel tiny when im sad. i didn't even know until recently that i don't talk well when i have a meltdown, because i ran away and tried to hide them until i was in college and my friends were there for me.

My only trauma is whatever i incurred from being autistic, but ... I didn't find that out until I was in college, so I bet I have more trauma than I think.

the age range that I usually assign myself stops at age 10, bc after that I don't like thinking about everything that I went through. me and my inner child are best friends, but we're both scared of the inner teen. nobody has had the guts to talk to her yet. we're about 60% certain she has a knife.

maybe i should actually try to regress to the kiddo ages again, but im a little scared of what might happen.

maybe im being silly.

or maybe all the age dreaming is just another way im rationalizing my emotions instead of actually feeling them and i haven't actually done any inner child work at all? am i doing this wrong or something?

idk ... if anyone has thoughts, let me know. :)

g'night <3

[luvingshidou]

I HATE MYSELF RN. I had a request about how bllk boys would react walking in on us like doing ballet stretches or doing ballet and like we haven't told them so they'd be surprised , and I was writing, and by accident I posted it wouldn't let me private it, and I deleted it. CUZ IM SLOW BUT anways here's ur request, anon!!! (I'm acc stupid pls forgive me😞😞💔💔💔💔)

MESMERISED.

bllk boy x fem! ballerina! reader

THANK U ANON ILY🫶🫶🫶😇😇😇 SORRY AGAINNN

established relationship

probs ooc

characters: rin itoshi, shidou ryusei & michael kaiser.

RIN ITOSHI

Rin was coming back from practice he was earlier than usual. He texted you saying that he was coming home early, but you didn't answer he figured you were just sleeping like you usually were. As soon he got to the house, he walked to the living room to find you mid stretch. Your ballet shoes on the floor beside you. Shit, how were you going to explain this to Rin.

"Rin, look, I'm sorry for not telling you—" You say you felt bad for keeping it a secret from him. Rin didn't say anything back but just stood there in suprise.

"Why??? Why didn't you tell me??? It's not like I was going to hate you for it." Rin finally says, a very, very slight frown on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I actually haven't told anyone, I was scared people would make fun of me for ballet and doing ballet shows." You say it was true you were scared you get made fun of, so you ultimately kept it a secret.

"That's a stupid fucking reason, why would I make fun of you for ballet???" Rin looked down at you raising an eyebrow. You knew you should have told him sooner, but you were you'd always get nervous and pussy out of saying it to him. H

"I knowwww, I'm sorry." You say, frowning slightly. You felt guilty for not telling him. Really guilty.

"Just next time, let me see one of your ballet shows, alright???" He says, smiling slightly as he looked at you.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

Shidou was currently walking to your house. He was bored and wanted to hang out with you. As he walked to your house, he rang the doorbell but no answer, he rang the doorbell again but you still hadn't answered. Luckily, he may or may not have stolen your spare keys. He opened the door and called out to you.

"BABEEEEEEEE." He called out, but he was met with silence. He walked over to your living room to see you practing your positioning, headphones in which somehow blocked you from hearing him. You nearly felt soul leave your body when you saw him stood there.

"Ryu, what the fuck—" You say, but were immediately met with Shidou wrapping his arms around your waist, spinning you around.

"PRINCESSSS, YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU DID BALLET?!?!?" Shidou says, grinning as he continues to spin you around. He continues spinning you for another couple of second before he stops.

"Ryu— I was planning on telling you sometime, I was." You say, letting out a sigh. "I just didn't know how to tell you."

"Yeah, yeah, doesn't matter now!!! Ya know, you should have told meeee I could have cheered my baby on." He says, still grinning, still hugging your waist.

"You can come to my next competition???" You say, smiling softly at him as he clung to you.

"REALLYYYYYYYY??????" He says as he starts to spin you around again, a wide ass grin still on his face.

MICHAEL KAISER

Michael was coming back from a photo shoot, some brand or something. For once, he was actually early coming home to you. He was tired from posing all day, so he couldn't wait to cuddle up with you. As soon as he opened the door, he caught you mid spin. You moved so gracefully that he couldn't help but stare at you he was practically mesmerised by you. As you finished, you saw Michael standing there.

"Micha, why are ya home so early?!?!?" You say, slightly surprised, your cheeks flushed from embarrassment. You haven't told Michael that you do ballet shows sometimes.

"Fucking hell angel, you move so gracefully, I think I might be hypnotised." Michael say, chucking slightly as he walks up to you, smirking to himself.

"Micha, I wanted to tell you I did ballet and ballet shows, but— it could distract you from your football—" You tried to explain yourself as best as you could but Michael cut you off.

"That doesn't matter, love. I want to watch your show, no matter what, you hear me." Michael says, his smirking growing wider. "Can't wait to tell everyone this pretty ballerina is mine."

(GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS FOR CHARACTERS IF YOU WANT A PART 2)

[endlich-allein]

Interview with Till about his life: he fought with his father, killed his beloved dog, swam on a wild river and worked on suffering. How Till Lindemann's mind works

"I will finish you off" and why you fought for the German army.

Werner Lindemann wanders around the room, interrupting the silence with strange questions, writing something down. His motive is to get to know his son and make him a friend. But it's complicated. Generational conflict.

"My island of tranquility is shaken every day. The day before yesterday, a guy pulled on my socks because his were torn. Yesterday he didn't put out a single lamp in the house. Now, with voluptuous delight, he spits cherry pits into the cat's fur. Is this grown boy really an adult?"

The apprenticeship in Rostock, where you have to do window production after graduation, is the limit of boredom. Till Lindemann moved to his father in the countryside so that he could forget about the hustle and bustle of the city and not fall under the article for anti-social attitudes. He thought of a new life, in which there was no pointless work, and arranged an attic in his father's house.

In the mornings over coffee, he scolded life that everything went according to schedule. And listened very loudly to music - electronics and metal. My father didn't understand and grumbled: “I matured late. Naturally, I wanted to listen to the music I liked, but I could not get my hands on these records. For example, my father did not understand when I bought the Alice Cooper record for a month's salary.

Werner Lindemann was a children's writer who went through the war.

At the height of his career he disappeared for weeks on literary tours - his fame spread to teachers and librarians across the country. His father pecked at Lindemann for refusing to work and promised to turn him in:

"My willful child. What doesn't fit his standards is rejected as nonsense or crap." So he took a job as a carpenter, where he made shovel cuttings and cart wheels. The head foreman constantly drank vodka during the day, didn't want to be annoyed with questions and addressed the long-haired Lindemann with the nickname: "Mozart!" This suited him.

Werner Lindemann talked about war, hard existence and limitations. For example, about a grenade splinter that remained in his body. Lindemann did not believe in all these stories - but categorically did not accept service, war and murder:

“After that I objected: “I would hide, I would not go to war. Why did you even let yourself be dragged into this? You could have hidden."

And he said: “It didn't work out. They searched for it and it took away."

Then I said: “I would rather go under arrest. Never in my life, I would go to the front line to shoot people. It's against my nature. It would be better if I went to jail."

Much of the time father and son were simply silent, even while watching television.

"He regularly made me feel guilty, to say the least, he placed himself on a pedestal towards me: I shouldn't complain. At your age, I ran barefoot through the stubble, and in my stomach - a potato in a uniform."

The only acceptance is Mike Oldfield's music: "One day my father came to grumble again. At that moment I was listening to Mike Oldfield, and he sat down and said: "That sounds interesting."

For me it was like a quantum leap: my father sits in my room, listens to my music and thinks it was good. Probably because of melancholy. He was sitting in a rocking chair that I made myself - at the time I was working as a carpenter on a farm. I, too, always sat in an armchair, immersed myself in music and smoked hand-rolled cigarettes."

The conflict was intensified by a fight. Lindemann bought a Trabant car, installed speakers in it and tested the sound - loud as usual. “Then my father came and I had to turn off this fucking music. It was kind of loud for him. He was then fiddling around his cases of flowers, and then suddenly the situation escalated. I think he slapped me while I was still in the car.

He leaned toward me and hit me with the back of his hand. I made some bullshit remarks like, "Leave me alone," something like that. That was a provocation to him, and he said: "If you do that again, I'll hit you for real." And I said, "Then you'll get it back. Because you're crazy. Don't you dare to hit me anymore."

And then he hit me with his palm again. He wasn't controlling himself.

He was exalting himself. Instantly he introduced himself as a boxer - he had boxed in the Hitler Youth - and I just... I thought I didn't hit him, I just pushed him away. And then he stood in front of me again, "Come on, I'll finish you, you haven't got a chance!" Somehow. After that, he went up to the attic and threw all my stuff out the window.

It happened over the weekend, my sister was there, a lot of screaming, serious drama. Then I packed my things, put them in the car, went to a friend's house and never went into his house again. At first I lived with this friend, and a week later I bought myself a house in the village."

His father's book is about his son, which the son will only open up after the death of the father.

Lindemann is a late child. He was born when his father was 36. The gap in their relationship was felt in everyday life and perception of the world. Werner Lindemann woke up early in the morning, worked with the circular saw under the windows and did not understand when his son slept until noon after a working week.

Lindemann's parents then lived separately, but kept in touch. Mom worked as a journalist and discussed her texts with his father. "She still lived in Rostock and always came to see him only on weekends. Mostly on Sundays she came back quite early, because she couldn't stand the stress of being with him, either."

In 1988, the book “Mike Oldfield im Schaukelstuhl Notizen eines Vaters" In this book, Lindemann Senior describes the relationship with his son (whom he calls Timm in the book), who settled with him at the age of 18. The book was written in the 80s and laid on the table until the German Democratic Republic and the Federal Republic of Germany were reunited.

Werner Lindemann wanted his son to take up writing too. But this only amused him, although as a child he wrote poetry. At the age of 13, little Till Lindemann and his father were returning home along the bumpy road to Mecklenburg. They talked about career self-determination:

"You should already have thoughts about what you want to become, boy." My answer: "I don't know yet, maybe a fisherman on the high seas."

But immediately, no matter what I said, objections arose: “But then you have to get a certificate of maturity. But then you will be away all the time. But then you won't be able to start a relationship."

There was always a “but”.

At some point it got on my nerves, as usual. And I said: "Worst case scenario, I'll just become a writer.

I still remember how alienated his face became. "And what do you think then, what do I do! It's a very hard job! In fact, it's not even a job, it's a passion. And it's a job that's supposed to be enjoyable."

I said, "I don't know anybody who works with pleasure."

"Yeah, that's the problem. You have to look for a job that gives you pleasure." Then I say again, "But some people never get to choose..." This gigantic discussion happened because I didn't take his profession seriously. At the same time, he was completely lost, funny!"

Lindemann thoughtfully read his father's book, in which he comprehends their relationship, after his death. Faked for hidden anger and indecision. For example, in a situation where their dog Kurt was bitten by a fox. The father was frightened because of rabies: “At the same time, we did not even know whether he was bitten by a fox or not. The father immediately called the huntsman. But I said: no one will enter this courtyard and shoot the dog. I'll do it myself if I really need it. At some point I really had to kill the dog."

Lindemann is not a monster. The animals he fiddled with are an important attribute of childhood. He had an aquarium and hamsters, brought mice and rats home, and was friends with dogs. “Like many children of new buildings, he felt the need for someone alive, in need of love,” said Werner Lindemann. Sometimes the appearance of an animal in the house was surprising:

“This guy will never say what he's up to. He appears on the doorstep at the same time as me. He gets out from his vehicle, throws his coat open and puts a young black shepherd in my hands. "Your Christmas present!"

Till's father is speechless. My son stands before me like the sun's little brother. Touchingly concerned, he directs me into the house, working out a plan for the animal husbandry, accommodation and diet of our new pet housemate.

With confusion, a question flies from my lips, "Wheredid you get the dog from?" "Timm" is gibbering, "Imagine, the mason in the barnyard wanted to hang him, simply wanted to strangle him with a rope, said he was a worthless eater..."

Werner Lindemann died of stomach cancer in 1993, when his son was 30. They didn't finally reconcile, but Till visited him in his last days and was there for him with his mother: "They couldn't be without each other, even though they lived apart. Unreal, but my mother never had another man afterwards. To this day she can't let go of him."

- Not going to the Olympics in Moscow and ending up in the German ghetto

Lindemann had the knowledge and the potential to be a swimmer. And a shyness that pounded harder three days before the competition than concerts in front of crowds of thousands. "I know how difficult it is to develop willpower and stamina and instill those attributes. In the GDR this was instilled in us by coaches and so-called functionaries."

Lindemann came to swimming at the age of eight and devoted his entire youth to the sport. He would get up for training at five in the morning and pass out in the evening. His grandmother watched him from the stands. At a competition in Leipzig she shouted at the coach, who told Lindemann off for a poor result. The grandmother took the coach by the ear and said: "How do you talk to my grandson?"

Sports tightened up his upbringing and developed self-discipline. “Drilling - probably the boy has already received this experience as a swimmer,” Lindemann's father wrote. - Once he had to take second place in a competition, but by no means first place. Of course, he got carried away, forgot about it, became the first, thanks to which he received a shouting for indiscipline. And whenever he lost in the future, his coach would torture him at practice for a long time and yelled at him: "Even if you win, you're not a winner yet!"

Lindemann swam the 1.5 km freestyle and could have gone to the 1980 Olympics in Moscow. Everything was ruined when he left the hotel without permission during a competition in Florence: "I didn't want to run, but just wanted to look at the city. Cars, bikes, girls. I was caught and kicked out of the team, but then I didn't give the required results either."

Lindemann competed at the European Junior Championships, but did not go any higher. After the story in Florence, his career in sport slipped away. Perhaps an abdominal injury influenced his departure. Lindemann is gone, but he doesn't yearn: "I was relatively young. There were no good [memories] left. I was glad it was over."

"The hardest part was getting back to normal. I fell into a real hole. My home was no longer a sports school, but a ghetto in Rostock. Now I stood out through drinking and fighting. I used to be surrounded only by beautiful ladies who were interested in swimming. Now I had fierce women standing in front of me asking, "How come you don't drink?" When I was shy about approaching a girl, it was interpreted as: "Are you gay?"

Lindemann now works with a coach and swims a few kilometers before his tours to get in shape: "When I exercise, I feel a certain lightness - not only physically, but also mentally. I just feel better. The main problem is staying in shape. That's where self-discipline comes into play. Teeth grinding is important."

- Three weeks in the wild and loneliness as a creative tool

Emotionally, concerts = sports:

"How do I go on tour? Hungry. And happy. It is good to compare concerts with sport. You don't want to do both at first. You don't want to go on stage. You don't want to go to the pool. You don't want to go to the boxing ring. It all happens with reluctance. It has to be accepted somehow, that's life: spring, summer, fall, winter.

When it's done, winter's gone, the blooming begins, greenery appears, it gets bright, and you start to get a taste for it. When it's over, you feel happy. Then the body produces a sea of chemistry, a lot of happiness hormones. I think the body rewards itself."

The stage, like sports, is an embarrassment, but a necessity. Lindemann wore dark glasses in order to collect fewer views from the audience. Therefore, a couple of steps before the water, he looked at the pool with a shiver. You need to cope with yourself in order to open up to new emotions.

Lindemann's gut requires solitude and moderate solitude. This is the point:

“Loneliness is always good for a creative push - you drink a glass of wine and you feel even shitier. Art is not complete without suffering; art exists to compensate for suffering."

With his friend Joey Kelly, Lindemann spent three weeks on the Yukon River. They paddled through the wilderness in a kayak for eight to 10 hours each and lived in a tent. Lindemann didn't take a tape recorder with him, so he transferred the lyrics wandering in his head on paper.

They were catching inspiration and atmosphere:

"There were times when we wouldn't say a word for hours, but then: look there, look there! It was breathtakingly beautiful. These relatively fast-changing panoramas and skies, layers of clouds, the colors.

Except for a few bears and wolves, it's hard to see anyone else out there, it's exhilarating. Along the way we saw two hunters setting traps. No one else.

I grew up in the countryside, and I have a very strong connection to nature. I love fishing, hunting. It's an archaic experience that I like to revisit over and over again. When I'm in the city for too long, I start to miss it."

To recreate situations in the Yukon, Lindemann and Kelly trained for nine months on the Rhine river in Germany because of its liveliness.

"We went down the Rhine to where the transport ships create huge bow waves. If we hadn't had a coach with us, we probably would have been sunk by the side wave impact already during our first attempt," Lindemann said.

Together with Kelly, he had four sessions with two coaches and swam from Cologne to Koblenz [more than 100 kilometers by car]. Lindemann trained separately each week on the lakes in Mecklenburg. It's both physically challenging and savage identical to being natural.

In 2015, Till started his solo project Lindemann. On the album Skills In Pills, the song Yukon was released, in which the lyrics appeared first, and then the music.

- "My lyrics come from pain rather than desire."

The country boy is big and not much of a talker. That's how the Rammstein members saw him at the start, when they were hanging out at home. "He looked cool, like a big peasant talking one sentence an hour," keyboard player Christian "Flake" Lorenz recalled. - He always had food and vodka. He'd just steal a couple of ducks somewhere and cook them on a tray. And then, frozen like in Sleeping Beauty, there were people lying in corners and on trunks in his house."

Lindemann loves and appreciates home gatherings. This came from my father, who always had guests. “In my opinion, this is the little bit that I inherited from him. Throwing parties and gathering people. Throwing parties and getting people together. He just enjoyed being a good host. The house was always full of guests from Leipzig, from Rostock, foreign guests, even from Kazakhstan.

It was always exciting for him. He stood at the stove, cooked, bought an abundance of wine, and there was always a fire in the garden. At some point he stopped drinking, then he left the party at 21:00 and the whole company continued to feast. And in the morning he got up at four, cleaned and tidied up."

Till Lindemann is about self-digging, overcoming and childish shyness, which is covered by a pumped-up figure of a swimmer. This is how Lindemann decrypts himself:

• “And I really am like a big child - ill-mannered, but harmless. People think that I am always strong, explosive. This is not true. I am sensitive and easily hurt, but in love I am romantic and passionate."

• “At the very beginning, you sit somewhere in a dark room, open a bottle of wine and figure out how to make the lyrics popular with the music. At first you only have a vague idea of ​​what it could be.

And when, three years after recording, mixing, and more mixing, developing the artwork, all this nonsense, then you stand on stage, and what you came up with then really works, when you manage to get 20 thousand people to raise their hands, then you experience incredible sensations."

• “Art is a kind of therapy.

When I feel that something is arising inside me, domineering and is most often dark, I need to give it a way out, otherwise it will simply crush me. So destruction and self-destruction are the two pillars on which my creativity is based.

But everyone chooses this for himself.

• “My lyrics arise from feelings and dreams, but still more from pain than by desire. I often have nightmares, and I wake up at night sweating, as I see terrible bloody scenes in my dreams. My lyrics are a kind of valve for the lava of feelings in my soul.

We are all struggling to hide behind good manners and outward decency, but in fact we are governed by instincts and feelings: hunger, thirst, horror, hatred, the desire for power and sex. Of course, there is also additional energy in us - this is love. Without it, all human feelings would fade away."

- "When you're constantly living someone else's life, it's very hard to get back into your own skin. I like that in principle, but sometimes you start to get confused - are you out of a role or not yet. You're already Till, or you're still a homicidal maniac."

- "I hate the noise. I hate the chatter. I expose myself to it, which is pure masochism. And then I have to protect myself from it. Noise makes you crazy. You die in it."

• “I think there is no God. And if he is and actually allows all the misfortunes on this earth, then he must punish me along with other sufferings. I will not pray to such a god."

This is how the members of Rammstein see Till - flexible and with a split personality:

Guitarist Paul Landers: "Till is so good that when you let him know that his lyrics should go in a different direction, the very next day he brings a new version of the song."

Guitarist Richard Kruspe: “He's a hell of an extreme man. He dives very deeply into situations where I cannot follow him. Everything he does is very extreme; I don't know anyone who does it. "

Drummer Christoph Schneider: "I would not want to be in Till's shoes: his soul is tormented by doubts and contradictions, he is equally a moralist and a monster."

June 1, 2021 - Translate by Lindemann Belgium

[reporterleroux]

"I miss him, y'know?"

Characters: ig!tommy, ig!tubbo, ig!ranboo (/p, best friends), ig!dream (/p, enemy), ig!awesamdude x ghosthybrid!reader

TW: Murder and it's kinda gory, blood, self isolation

A/N: WHY ARE THE ONLY IDEAS I GET SAD???

!SOME LANGUAGE!

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It's always been that little bit tougher for you since Tommy got sent to prison, and the fact that he was sharing a cell with Dream made it way harder than it needed to be. The house you built with him, Tubbo and Ranboo was constantly silent now, the house upon the hill you chose before any chaos begun. The view wasn't the same, it was an old city in ruins. The prison was the only sight out of the main window, so you constantly insisted to the boys the curtain stayed closed. You occasionally attempted to visit Tommy, but Sam would only say no. You always had to leave him a note, a note you would rant on, a note you wouldn't even know he ever got. That's why you never went there anymore, you knew the answer would always be the same, so you just wrote a note and sent it by post, or most the time, the boys would take it down for you. You couldn't even have it within your sights, let alone be there. You had nothing to do now Tommy was gone, nothing but mope around in your room all day, reminiscing on things you used to to together.

Sure, Tommy had been in the prison for a while, but this was the first time you never left the house, let alone your room, in just over a week. You would sit there all day just staring out of your window, which looked over the field you all used to spend your days in, only ever looking away to make some of your now rare appearances to the boys to get food, a drink or to go to the bathroom. The boys had enough, they needed to get you outside, and weren't taking no for an answer. They headed towards your room, Tubbo pushing the door open and leaning in, Ranboo hovering over him as he did so.

"Y/N?"

Tubbo asked, you turned around, smiling weakly towards them, but also feeling guilty for ditching them for the amount of time you did.

"Do you want to go out for a walk with us? We agreed that you needed it after you've been in the house for over a week."

You looked shocked, unaware of the time you'd been in your room, away from your best friends, time where you haven't sent a single note to Tommy. You broke down there and then.

"Woah, woah, you good?"

Ranboo asked as Tubbo rushed over to hug you. As much as Ranboo wished he could, all he was able to do was use words, as your tears would burn him, which you understood.

"I'm so so so sorry guys, I never realised how much time I isolated myself for. I'm so sorry."

You managed to get out between sobs as Tubbo hugged to tighter, Ranboo still not being able to hug you as well.

"Hey hey calm down, it's ok. You're with us now, and that's all that matters. Now get changed and we'll go out for a walk alright?"

Tubbo said, releasing from the hug and drying your eyes. You nodded as Ranboo came to hug you, now able to do it without burning, before they both left the room. It took a bit longer than usual for you to get ready, but you got ready none the less. You grabbed a few things like your sword and some food before ghosting through your door and meeting the boys at the front of the house, ready to leave. They smiled softly at you before you slipped on your shoes and left with them.

The views and nostalgia wasn't pretty for you, but aslong as you were with your 2 best friends, it didn't matter. You decided to relax for a bit on the bench. Everyone was silent until you sighed.

"I miss him, y'know. Yeah, he's just in prison and stuff, but I still miss him. The house just doesn't feel right without him."

The other boys hummed in agreement, listening to every word you said, as you unconsciously rambled on about Tommy. You sat in silence for a bit after that, you looking over your now destroyed home, but being able to see the ghosts of everything, the complete buildings, the ghosts of your past selves being teenagers and having the time of your lifes. It wasn't long before you felt something on your forearm. You rolled up your sleeve, and threw your hand up towards your mouth on the brim of tears as you read what it said.

"TommyInnit WAS SLAIN BY Dream"

"No, theres- no..."

The boys looked confused, before seeing your forearm.

"That green bastard, I'll punch his teeth in."

You said as you stood up and grabbed your sword.

"Y/N no. He's too strong, he's not worth it."

Ranboo said concerned as he grabbed your wrist to stop you. You pulled it out of his grasp before jumping off the small cliff infront of you, thankfully not taking any damage due to your hybrid abilities. You could hear the boys calling out and running after you, but you didn't stop. You ran as quickly as you could towards the prison, ghosting through the walls before you were met with Sam.

"Oh, Y/N! Are you ok?"

Sam asked. You looked at him deadass in response before showing him your forearm. He stood in shock, but also knew what you were going to do. As you tried to run forward, he grabbed you by your arms, holding you back.

"Sam! Let go of me!"

You shouted angrily at him. When he wouldn't let go, you just ghosted through him and all the security and ran straight through the lava, knowing it wouldn't damage you, before being confronted by the worst scene you could ever imagine. Tommy's dead body, bedding out in the corner, Dream in the opposite corner, knuckled dripping with blood. Tommy's blood.

"You sick son of a bitch! Why did you do that?"

You questioned. Dream just sent you a smirk, before shrugging like nothing ever happened.

"I took your first 2 lives. Im not afraid to take your last."

You said as you shoved him down into the corner he was standing in, tip of your sword right by his heart. You knew enough to know that it would instantly kill him as soon as you out more force on it. Dream still had that smirk on his face.

"Was his fault really. Y'know, he was always just using you three. Never really liked any of you. That what he told me."

You had enough of this. He was trying to be manipulative with you. He knew if you fell for it he could save his own life. That's not what you wanted.

"Come on kid, join me instead, it'll be better for you. No need to say no."

You pretended to think about it for a second, before saying

"Suck it, green boy."

And you put more pressure on your sword, plunging it through him, and kept it there before you felt the similar tingle on your arm.

"DREAM was slain by Y/N"

You pulled the sword out of his chest, and held it by your side, suddenly turning your head towards Tommy's dead body, making sure anyone that walked in could see what you did to Dream, and you were the one who did it. You zoned out, remembering everything Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo did together. Tubbo and Ranboo. How would they feel about what you just did? How about Tommy? You were still zoned out as the lava started dropping down, Sam, Tubbo and Ranboo on the other side. They were all in shock of the scene before them. You were in front of Dreams body, sword dripping with his blood, looking at Tommy.

"Y-Y/N?"

You snapped back to reality, and whipped your head around. Oh no.

"R-ranboo, Sam, T-tubbo, I'm sorry, I had to, he killed him, I had to."

You stumbles on your sentences, as they all looked at you shocked. Sam was just frozen in place, the 3 of you noticed that, so the boys took the opportunity to reach in, grab you and get out of there. Everything was very different now.

It had been roughly a week since the prison events, and alot of people either hated you, or liked you, there was no inbetween. You thought everyone would leave you, but Ranboo and Tubbo stuck by your side the entire time. You visited Tommy's grave weekly, and left all his possessions alone. That was until the boys went out, and you felt lonely, so you went to go sit in Tommy's room.

"T-tommy?"

There was a ghost of the boy you once we're best friends with, sitting in the bed.

"Tommy? Oh, right, you're Y/N, right? My best friend from when I was alive? Sorry, I go by GhostInnit now."

You didn't care, you were just happy you could see him, and instantly jumped into him for a hug. You didn't know if it was your hybrid abilities that could make you see him, or if he was visible to everyone in general, but that didn't matter. You were just happy he was there.

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A/N: podiddlyboingodawidaho

[khaleesiofalicante]

give me a sec...

I haven't cried yet

it's mostly me being in complete denial of all the events which have occurred.

wdym? they are all alive and happy :D

ok anyway

CHAPTER 9 THE ANGSTIEST OF THEM ALL

im currently laughing so-

oh fuck he bouta tell them

BYE IM FUCKING WHEEZING LITERALLY NOTHING IS FUNNY WHY AM I LAUGHING

“So, you broke the law?” Alec demanded. “And you kept that from us all this time?”

“I didn’t want you to get involved!” Rafael explained. “If you knew about it, you would be guilty by association and-”

“Guilty by association!” Alec said incredulously. “Rafael, do you think we care? If you are going down, we are going down with you.”

“I don’t want that,” Rafael shook his head. “I don’t want you to be punished for what I did.”

he's so

idk how to describe it

he's just so

yes

“Are you going to walk into the Inquisitor’s house and kidnap their daughter?”

I FUCKING SNORTED MAYBE IM NOT READY FOR THIS CHAPTER I KEEP ON LAUGHING

look I know I should be sad but it keeps on getting funnier

Rafael what did you do

oh god

WHY AM I STILL LAUGHING

I think im gonna do my project on the effects LBAF has had on my mental health

“So many people forced to leave their families. They were forced to endure the stripping of their marks. All because they fell in love with a mundane or dared to dream of a different life. Is this the Covenant you want me to respect?”

but can Anjali survive the stripping? she's already so weak

GASP

YOU MENTIONED MAX TRUEBLOOD

“Will you be okay?” Rafael asked then. “If dad dies tomorrow, will you be okay?”

RAFAEL SHUT UP

it's foreshadowing I can see 😄

No, Magnus wanted to say.

That’s not true.

He will move on. He will live. He might even find love again.

But will never be okay again.

Not after losing his Alexander.

My heart-

“The younger generation is not responsible for fixing centuries of ignorance and bigotry.”

STOP EXPECTING US TO FIX YOUR SHIT

RAFAEL TOO FAR NOT THE COHORT

“Straight people are weird,” Max mumbled.

so true

“You actually have to work to get paid. Like killing demons is not enough.”

yes, that is how it works...shadowhunters don't know that...?

ok here come the waterworks

“It hasn’t stopped hurting,” Max whispered. “I wake every day and think it’s gonna stop hurting, but it hasn’t stopped.”

it doesn't. you think it will but it just seems to hurt more and more until you learn to live with it. fucking sucks

When they were kids, their parents would take them to the rooftop and teach them about the constellations.

Dad would hold their little hand in his and point at the stars and tell them stories. Then, Bapak would magic little stars to appear all around them.

Max wished they could go back to that time. A time when it had been just them and the stars and nothing in between.

No broken hearts. No crazy assassins. No dead boyfriends. No dying girlfriends.

Just the stars.

that sounds beautiful

“The law doesn’t matter,” Max shrugged. “You know the Lightwood-Bane motto.”

“Fuck the Clave is not our family motto!” Rafael said.

“Bapak said it was!” Max argued. "Although now I feel like he probably meant it differently. But the sentiment still stands!”

oh yeah he definitely meant it differently

“It’s gonna be fine,” Max promised. “Once you leave, I’ll just annoy the fuck out of them. Then they will have to bring you back cause they can’t deal with my shit anymore.”

“That might work,” Rafael smiled.

I...

“I don’t want to hold her hand!” Rafael yelled.

I want to take her to Bulgaria.

I want to make her upma.

I want to walk down the aisle with her.

DUDE-

OH MY GOD NO

THAT HEART LINE COULD BE SOMETHING RAFAEL SAID AFTER ANJALI DIES

DON'T

Not everyone can change the world for the person they love. Some people had to give it up.

Fucking sucks

There will be no shadowhunters without mundanes.

YES EXACTLY

Rafael what what what

“Raziel,” Rafael whispered to himself. “Something is wrong with Raziel.”

You just realized?

checks the theory list I made during class yup it's there

probably got himself into trouble again smh

They had to find Raziel.

well, good luck...?

“You alright, son?” an old man jogging past him asked.

“I found a way to save my girl. Now we can both keep hunting demons and change the world together!”

“Good for you, son!” the man cheered and kept running.

the man's like "well ok that's not the weirdest thing"

“What’s with shadowhunters and leaving?” Magnus rolled his eyes.

“It’s our thing,” Alec chuckled. “But we always come back though.”

“Needy,” Magnus pointed out.

“Madly in love,” Alec corrected.

THEM

ALEC YOU BETTER BE RIGHT ABOUT FIGURING SOMETHING OUT PLEASE

and if something is truly wrong with Raziel then he better get his shit together smh

“God, do I really have to wake up to this every morning?” Max groaned, pulling the blanket around him as he walked past them to the kitchen. “I’m gonna moving out too.”

max is so done

DANI WHAT

RAFAEL

NO NO NO NO NO

ABSOLUTELY NOT

idc idc he's happy and alive in my head wdym he's not?

I have already blocked it from my memory

is it because he figured it out?????

That heart line is Anjali isn't it

Im fine it's fine gonna try to work on my computer project and block these events from memory have a good night knowing our poor mental heath collapsed

Me trying to justify my hatred towards random people I don't know:

I loved this Evie! Hope the programming classes are going well :P

[thou-crusty-batch-of-nature]

The rise and fall of our love

part one | part two

playlist: broken by jake bugg

no.1 party anthem by arctic monkeys

pairing: james x reader, james x lily 

warnings: language, angst, fluff 

A/N: sooo im back with part two!!! thank you for the fantastic feedback and appreciation you gave me on the first part, and i hope this lives up to your expectations!!!! sending all the love xoxo

masterlist

(moodboard made by me)

"How is he?" 

"Y/N…" Remus began, putting down his quill. Your gaze never left the essay in front of him, refusing to see the pity that his stare held. Because that - that glint in his eyes, the way the right corner of his mouth lifted in a poor attempt of a smile - that was pity. 

You shook your head softly. How did it get here? 

"Am I not allowed to know? He won't speak to me or look at me. I almost feel guilty even though I know I haven't done anything wrong." 

"James is…"

"A fool." 

You knew he was trying not to smile. "Yes, that is the obvious answer. But he is still with Lily." 

Of course he is. What he said that day - or rather what he smelt - has been the talk of the school for weeks. People were staring at you in the halls, pointing behind your back - so much that you stopped hanging out anywhere else besides your dorm and the library. 

And James - he never bothered to say anything to you. It hurt more than you expected to, but you didn't let it show. I am fine, you said every time one of your friends asked. Then, you would smile kindly and change the subject. You would see them exchange worried glances - you pretended you didn't notice. Soon they stopped asking, and you stopped pretending. 

"Do they love each other?" Something in your pathetic heart broke at the quiver in your voice. Love.

Love. Never in your life have you heard a more overrated word. So much loss, so much damage made for love. Was it really worth it? The way your stomach dropped and the slight tremble of your lip, the ache that would just not go away - were these the cost of love? 

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze. He watched you in awe - as if he read the truth in your eyes. You felt the tears roll on your cheeks, hitting the parchments sprawled on your desk. You let them fall. He opened his mouth, then closed it. 

"I understand." you whispered. 

You got up, but Remus caught your hand. 

"Do you…?" 

You smiled softly. "Does it matter anymore?" 

He let go of your hand and you walked away. 

×××

"Hogsmeade, today?" Sirius asked as he plopped down next to you. He took a big bite of your sandwich - and noticing your icy glare, he put his hand over your shoulder and pressed a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You pushed him off you and wiped your face. 

"Bloody hell! You even kiss like a dog!" you retorted. 

"No, I don't." 

"No, he doesn't." Marlene smirked and you rolled your eyes. 

"Hogsmeade, you were saying?" 

"Yes - Remus and Lily are busy with their important top-secret prefect duties and James has quidditch practice, so it'll be just us. I guess you don't mind third-wheeling for a bit." 

"Can't wait!" you feigned excitement. 

×××

It was freezing, to say the least. You were glad you had two pairs of socks on, otherwise you might have had to postpone the trip and pay a visit to the hospital wing instead. 

"I don't sound like that!" Sirius whined, handing you and Marlene your butterbeer - you've decided to stop at The Three Broomsticks. 

"Of course you do, darling. And may I add that you look ravishing." you purred in your best impression of Sirius' voice. Then, you turned to Marlene and winked. "You are the most gorgeous person in here."

"Careful, that's not true." a voice caught your attention. No, no no no.

"Oi - Prongs, mate! Thought you had quidditch practice!" Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. 

"Got cancelled because of the snow. Hello." he nodded and smiled towards you and Marlene, then pulled a chair at the table. It was the first time he's talked to you in weeks. 

You didn't bother to answer. In fact, you didn't even look at him. The rest of your stay at the pub passed in a haze, with careless answers and quick nods. 

×××

Before you knew it, you were left on a bench with James, waiting for the others to "buy some quills from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop", as they were in big need of "quills" and "didn't have any left to write the Transfiguration essay we had due Wednesday". Oh, if only you had Transfiguration on Wednesdays! 

"So… how have you been?" James trailed off, rubbing his neck. Ah, so that's how he wanted to play this game.Too bad. 

"Why, James?" you ask, gazing at the shops in front of you. "Why did you ignore me? What happened that day?" 

He sighed. "I don't know. I- I made a mistake. You shouldn't have found out, not like that." 

"You have some guts, don't you?" you spat. 

"Excuse me?" You faced him. That face - the face you dreamt about, the one you kept telling yourself you hated - you missed that face, you missed him so much that you were glad you were sitting down, for you might as well have fallen to your knees. 

"Do you know how it is," you started, feeling the tears pooling in your eyes, "to feel so alone that you find yourself crying without a reason? Do you know how it feels to spend your nights wondering why you weren't enough - what you did to deserve this? Even if you did nothing wrong?"

"Do you know how it's like to watch the person you love drift away from you? To watch that person become a stranger? Do you know how it felt to know that you wouldn't even look at me?" You were now shouting. "Tell me, James! Look me in the eyes and tell me!" 

Silence. You watched him trying to find an answer and you silently begged him to say something. 

"Do you love me?" he whispered incredulously. Not that. 

"Would it change anything if I said I do?" 

"I don't know."

"Do you still love her?" You couldn't say her name. 

"I don't know." He let his head fall in his hands. For the first time in weeks, you laughed. You laughed until your vision went blurry, until you felt the salty taste of your tears. 

"You know nothing, James Potter." you sneered, then got up. 

You made your way back to the castle alone. 

×××

"Guys guys I have the most amazing idea." Sirius came rushing in the Great Hall, managing to trip and almost fall. He quickly regained his composure and continued running as if nothing had happened. 

"That's new." Remus said while reading the prophet. 

It's been weeks since that night in Hogsmeade, weeks in which you've avoided James at all costs, despite his numerous attempts at conversation. 

"I'll choose to ignore that." Sirius glared at his friend, then continued. "Don't you all want to go for a dip?" 

"I think I speak for all of us when I say that I do not intend to die in the freezing lake on a lovely day of winter." You scowl, munching on your pastries. You loved pastries. (mood) 

Sirius smirked. "I'm glad you are all so joyous so early in the morning, but for your knowledge, I wasn't talking about the lake. My dear, smartass friends, I was thinking of crashing the Prefects bathroom!" 

That got your attention. You looked at Remus full of hope and he shrugged. 

"And how exactly are we going to do that? "

"Well, this is where our prefect friends come in handy."

"Lily would never help you do this." James cuts in. 

"That's why I wasn't planning on inviting her." Much to your surprise James didn't object. "You forgot about our other prefect friend - and I'm looking at you, Moony." 

You all looked at Remus who seemed a tad bit uncomfortable. "I guess - alright? But if anyone catches us, it's your fault." he pointed his finger at Sirius. 

"I solemnly swear." He put his hand over his heart, then winked. 

×××

"Looks like your plan to ignore James isn't gonna last." Marlene said while stuffing all the towels she could find in her bag. 

"I'm aware of that." You really were. You've mentally prepared yourself to spend the night in the same room with him for the past week. "Ready? The boys are waiting." 

"Yeah, let's go." You were to go to the bathroom in groups of three using the cloak, then spend the night there. 

"Alright," Sirius' head popped from under the cloak "we'll go together - Remus, James and Peter are already there. Come on." he whispered. 

You got to the bathroom in no time and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach. You felt pathetic - you were all going to hang out as friends. 

Marlene's hand squeezed yours - everything will be alright. It was your thing; back in the day, you used to do this every time the other would be anxious about something. You looked at her and smiled, squeezing back twice - I know. 

You entered and your mouth flew open.  You've never seen a more luxurious bathroom before. The "bathtub" was easily the size of a medium sized pool. Greek caryatids held the archways, and the stained glass windows reflected their patterns on the marble floor tiles. 

"I suddenly feel bad for not working harder to be a prefect - if I had known this would be my bathroom, I would've gladly learnt the entire History of Magic coursebook by heart" Marlene said, with a small pout on her face and her arms crossed. 

"Same here." Your gaze followed the sculptures on the ceiling and slowly fell on him. He looked angelic - the way the coloured moonlight caressed his face, the faint blush on his cheeks - made him part of the setting. 

There was no point in lying to yourself. You liked him, despite everything he's done, everything he's said, you continued to like him. All those comforting lies you've said were trying to cover the inevitable truth, the truth which had been well hidden somewhere deep inside your soul. Until now. 

You stripped out of your clothes, fully aware of his impertinent stare. You stepped into the pool, sighing in pleasure at the warmth of the water. 

"Wanna play anything?" you asked no one in particular. 

"Oh, we should play shoulder wars!" Sirius exclaimed excitedly.

"I think I'm gonna skip this!" Peter announced from his chair. 

You looked at James, then turned to Remus. You rose your eyebrows inquisitively, and he smiled kindly. 

"I guess imma skip this one as well." James said, slightly disappointed. 

"Come on, Marls, we gotta kick some ass."

And so did the games begin. 

×××

You were trying, and failing miserably to keep your balance on Remus' shoulders. 

"Haha- losers!" Marlene laughed. It was your sixth time losing.

"Y/N, I think I'll give up now, before this becomes too humiliating." Remus said while getting out of the water and pulling out his book. 

"No Remus, you can't give up now! I know we can do this!" you saw him sit comfortably in an armchair, and something clicked into your mind. "You ditch me to read? And sabotaged me? Remus John Lupin, I'm disappointed."

"Take Prongs instead, he's far more competitive than I am." he smiled innocently. So this was his plan. 

You turned to James, and he got up excitedly. You got on his shoulders, and his hands tentatively touched your legs. You saw Marlene and Sirius smirking and you glared at them. 

×××

The score was close. It was the match point. Marlene was desperately trying to push you when you came up with the winning idea. You splashed some water into her face, obstructing her vision. Then, you tickled her and she fell. 

"And that's how it's done!" you shout, raising your fist. Marlene's head appeared from under the water, clearly mad. 

"That was not fair!" 

"There's no such thing as fair!" Marlene smirked, as if she was saying oh, really? and pushed James with such brute strength that he fell, taking you with him. 

He caught you before your head could hit the bottom. He lifted you up bridal style and you put your left hand around his neck and moved the other one from your nose to his shoulder. You stayed in his arms, not wanting to let go. You were gazing into each other's eyes, breathing heavily, when it hit you. 

You loved him. 

And he was still with Lily. 

You pulled away from his embrace, breaking the stare. "It's not right - Lily…" you mutter, getting out of the water. 

The others seemed all deeply interested in Remus' book. You could even hear Sirius asking questions about the plot. You turned away; James was still in the pool, in the same place, trying to make out the meaning of what happened. 

It wasn't fair. 

Life wasn't fair. 

<3

stay tuned for the next part and lmk what you think❤️

taglist: @futurewriter2000, @puppycat714, @booksbeforebois, @slytherinquill, @screennamealreadyused, @fific7, @with1love1anu @slytherinwriter618 @angelinathebook @mischiefsemimanaged @remibarnes22 @hxfflxpxffs @approved-by-dentists @hss20052313 @pregnant-piggy @marauderswhisperer @lumoscharlie

[radiorenjun]

Lavender Antics

→ Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

→ Summary: Shooting in a drama with him was your absolute nightmare. Working with your enemy and pretending that you were love interests has been the most frustrating experience of your life. Though, after saying your farewells, the scent of lavender never leaves.

→ Warnings: Explicit Language. Antics. Mentions of insecurity. Alcohol, Making out. Suggestive?

→ Chapters: 4, 5, 6

As Jeongin continued to play with Jisung's switch, Jisung stared at the ceiling with his hands behind his head as he layed down on the bed next to his best friend. Jeongin noticed how disturbingly quiet Jisung had gotten since he called him out at the bus stop.

Jeongin tried his best to get a reaction out of Jisung without him being too obvious to see if he was just spacing out because of a horror scene he probably came across on YouTube or if something had really upset his friend to get him sighing exasperatedly every 13 seconds.

Jeongin gave out loud reactions as he played his game, chewing his snacks as loudly as possible and fidgeting around the king-sized bed next to the spaced out boy, but nothing exept an exasperated sigh was released from the squirrel-looking boy.

Jeongin gave out a dramatic exhausted sigh, putting down the switch on the table and sitting up on the bed with a snack on his lap. "Alright, hyung. What's wrong? This is literally killing me." Jeongin asked, with a perplexed expression.

"What? Seeing me all sad boy?" Jisung mumbled, not tearing his gaze away from the ceiling. "No, you're literally killing me in this game because of your loud ass earthshaking sighs." Jeongin stated simply, laying his chin against his palm cheekily.

Jisung's brows furrowed as he turned his head to look at his friend smiling innocently. He rolled his eyes and continued to stare at the ceiling, getting lost in his thoughts once again. "Alright, all jokes aside. What's actually wrong, hyung? You haven't been this quiet since Minho and Felix got eliminated in the survival show." Jeongin asked.

"Promise not to be a childish dick about what I'm bout to spill?" Jisung muttered, avoiding his friend's eyes. "Unless you did a really hilarious stunt that caused you to slip and fall, no promises." Jeongin joked, earning a small hit from his friend.

"I'm serious, dude!" Jisung exclaimed, sitting up on his bed. "Okay, okay! What's up?" Jeongin raised his hands up defensively with a shocked expression. "I.. I made y/n upset." Jisung spoke hesitantly.

Jeongin's brows furrowed as his lips formed into a small frown. "And your point is?" he asked, confused at what's the problem. "What do you mean 'my point is'?! I made her upset!" Jisung exclaimed, giving Jeongin a nudge.

"Come on, hyung. I know you're a dumbass but surely your ass isn't dumb enough to not realize that you make her upset basically on a daily basis." Jeongin shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, it was at that exact moment.

"No, you prick. I made her cry!" Jisung exclaimed, falling back into his pillows and burying his face into the soft fabric. Now, this got Jeongin's full attention.

"What? How? Did you make her smell your feet or something?" he asked, earning an annoyed look from Jisung. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry. But what happened?" he exclaimed, taking a pillow as a shield as he saw Jisung ready to go out on him.

"Well," Jisung sat up again, pulling his hood on and pulling on the strings as he plays with them in between his fingers. "She was being rather quiet and I got bored, I tried to get a reaction out of her like always but she kept quiet. So I pestered her the whole day until she finally snapped."

"And when she snapped, I just kept on going and going but then she screamed at me in the middle of the streets and she was crying. Then she just stomped away to walk to the hotel herself." Jisung shrugged sadly, guilt filling his stomach as he recalled your teary eyes.

"Dude. That's fucked up. Didn't you know the poor girl's grandma passed away?" Jeongin tsked in disappointment, folding his arms and shaking his head. His actions reminded Jisung of Bang Chan in this sort of situation. Man, he misses that guy.

"What? Her fucking grandma died?!" Jisung exclaimed in shocked, guilt filling him up even more. "Dude, no one told me!" Jisung ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Didn't you hear Yeoreum telling us, more specifically you, to leave her along to grief this morning at the makeup room?" Jeongin scolded.

"I couldn't hear shit! I had airpods on!" Jisung groaned. "So that's why she was so damn sad the whole day! Fuck, I should've just left her alone before she snapped." Jisung whined, collapsing to his pillows once again. He felt like shit. He was the type to joke around but he didn't mean to make people cry when doing so.

"You fucked up bad, buddy." Jeongin patted his hyung's back, grabbing the switch as he leaned against the headboard to leave his friend wallow in the pit of guilt of his own actions. Jeongin's eyes darted from his switch to his friend who was dramatically sulking into his pillows.

"I fucking said, 'you're acting as if somebody fucking died'. I'm a jackass, fuck." Jisung's voice was muffled by the thick fabric but audible enough for his maknae to hear him. Jeongin let out a groan, "my fucking God."

He scratched his head, "if your dramatic ass really feel that guilty, you could just be a normal person, which I doubt you are, and you know. Apologize." Jeongin suggested in a tone that stated the obvious.

Jisung's head shot up in excitement, his eyes wide. "Right! Apologizing existed! Dude, you're a genius!" Jisung grabbed Jeongin's shoulders and shook him vigorously. Jeongin gave him a double chin disgusted frown, pushing his friend's hands off of him.

"It's called thinking. You should try it sometime." he replied shortly. "Wait, but how am I suppose to do that?" Jisung asked with a pout. "I don't know man. That's your problem. Seriously, I came here to hang out and use your switch as if it were my own. Not act like Channie-hyung and become a dad, ew gross." Jeongin shivered in disgust at the thought.

"Don't you have your own switch, though?" Jisung's brows furrowed in confusion. "Well yeah, but you have more games." Jeongin shrugged with a grin. "Bruh, if you want my games so much just borrow some." Jisung shoved Jeongin who gave a small laugh.

"Really? Okay, then. Adios, my dude." Jeongin grabbed Jisung's switch and quickly exited his room before his friend could chase after him. "I didn't mean you could take my switch! JEONGIN. HEY-" Jisung shouted before he heard the door click shut.

Jisung bit his lip as he stood in front of your hotel room door with a bag of your favourite drink in hand and some onigiri and mochis in the other bag. Without wasting another second, he knocked on your door and patiently waited for you to open the door.

His foot tapping against the carpet floor as he heard small footsteps from the other side of the door. The door clicked open, revealing you in your pajamas looking all sleepy. You looked at him with a blank unamused expression, gazing at him from his small smile to the sole of his sneakers tapping impatiently on the carpet floor.

You closed the door as if he was just a person walking by, but he stuck his foot in to hault the door from closing. "Y/N-" Jisung started before he let out a small noise as he felt you push harder against the door. "Fuck off." you mumbled in a hoarse exhausted voice.

"Y/N, hear me out." Jisung tried to reason as he pushed the door back with his foot as hard as he can as you both fought against the door. "No, you and your donkey personality can just fuck off!" you exclaimed, putting your back into closing that damn door.

"I brought you your favorite drink, mochis and onigiris! What more do you want in order for you to hear me out for just two seconds?" Jisung exclaimed, feeling you hault your movements at the mention of your favorite foods.

"You what?" your head poked out of the doorway as you eyed him suspiciously, realizing that he was carrying a bag of your favourite foods in his hands. "Why?" you asked with a raise of your brow.

Jisung opened his mouth to say something but closed his mouth when he realised that he doesn't know what to say now that he finally grew some balls to apologize after sulking for thirty minutes in his room. 'Fuck,' he thought, 'I didn't fully think this through.'

"Well?" you raised your brow, gesturing him to continue with his words. "I... I heard bout your grandma and I just wanna say I'm sorry for being an inconsiderate asshole and I want to say my deepest condolences to you. Please accept these foods as a token of my apology so we can go back to being friends again." Jisung blabbered, avoiding eye contact as he shyly spoke, his ears turning red involuntarily.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise as he stretched out his hand to give you the bags. "You're here for that? And you consider me as your friend!?" you exclaimed, dumbfounded at the boy's actions infront of you.

Jisung's brows furrowed as he looked up at you with an offended look, "of course I consider you as a friend! You don't consider me as one?" he pouted, his hands going down as his expression saddened.

"Well, with your fucking attitude towards me I thought you had some sort of grudge against me as if my ancestor killed yours or something." you shrugged. "The ancestors thing might be a possibility. But you're funny when you get riled up. I never hated you, y/n. I felt like shit when I saw you cr-" he whined.

"Don't even say that word, I was being sentimental and emotional." you cut him off and cringed the embarrassing memory of crying dramatically in public. "Okay, sheesh. What Im saying is, I'm sorry for going too far with my antics and I want you to have this." he handed you the bags with a small smile.

You bit your lip as you accepted the bags in your hand and gave him a smile. "You're alright, Jisung." you nodded. "Does that mean you forgive me?" Jisung grinned, stepping closer to you as he practically towered over you.

"Dude, I forgave you three seconds ago. Go to sleep its like 11 PM, we have to shoot scenes first thing in the morning tomorrow." you chuckled, putting down the bags on the floor and gently pushed him, eliciting a laugh from him.

"Alright. Alright. Good night," Jisung giggled as he walked towards his door. "Goodnight to you too, Han. Thanks for the food by the way." you smiled, leaning so you could see him standing infront of his doorway, giving him a small wave before getting inside and closing your door.

You picked up the bags and lay them on your nightstand, checking to see what that ridiculous boy had bought you. Something inside caught your eye as you reached a hand down the bag and pulled out the object in sight.

You bit your lip, smiling as you saw a bouquet of lavender wrapped together with a small silk, some small carnations adding some colour to the bouquet. That boy really is something.

Jisung leaned back to see you pick up the bag he brought you before closing your hotel door. He sighed to himself, biting back a smile as he thought bout your reaction to his small gift inside.

He noticed how you kept looking in awe at the lavenders nearby, longing to pick one of them so he went down to the nearest bouquet shop and bought the most eye-catching lavender bouquet they had.

He chuckled to himself, wishing he could see your reaction when you see his gift as he fidget his hands around his pockets to pull out his key card to his room. He soon frowned when he doesn't feel his card anywhere in his pockets.

He pulled out his wallet to check if his card was there. Unfortunately, it wasn't there. He locked himself out. 'Fuck my life.' he thought before jogging down the hall to Jeongin's room where he knocked nervously.

Jeongin opened the door with his bed hair looking like an untamed mane as he squinted sleepily at his friend. "Hey Jeongin-" Jisung greeted nervously before Jeongin shut the door to his face.

"Asshole!" Jisung exclaimed in a soft voice but loud enough for the younger boy to hear him from the other side of the door. Jisung clicked his tongue as he pulled out his phone and dialed the only person he knew who could help him.

"Manager-nim! My favorite hyung! How are you?" he laughed as he walked towards his manager's room nervously. "You're gonna be laughing your eyes out when you hear me out. So. I got a little problem..."

I was so motivated to write with all the comments that wanted me to make more of Lavender Antics like Bruh I didnt think this would be so popular💞💞😳😭

[bang-me-bangtan-style]

UNKNOWN 01

Paring: Jeon jungkook x reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers, unexpected love

Summery: what if the famous front man of bangtan accidentally texts the wrong number thinking your his cheating girlfriend only it’s really you?

Notes: this story has no triggers. Just smut. Read at your own risk

                                                      *Unedited*

                                                    today  2:11 am  

+82 (02) 491-7265: I can't fucking believe you Lee Jieun! Did you really think that I wouldn't find out? That I would be blinded by the evil that is you. When was it that you thought it was okay to cheat on me? To break my heart? I wanted to be a good man for you! I changed my self for you now I don't know who I am anymore! For you even though I was weak I could pretend to be strong. Love is mad. This is so mad. I loved you so much and now what am I left with. Fake love? It's funny how I thought I could trust you. Give you everything, love you. But all I was left with was fake love. Thanks for destroying me. Destroying us. Read at 9:32am

                                                  Today 9:34 am

You: I think you got the wrong number..... Read at. 9:34 am

+82 (02) 491-7265: quit the bullshit Jieun! Why did you change your number like I wouldn't find out. Like I wouldn't be seeing you next week at the gaeyo dae jun awards? Like we won't have to be in the same room ever again!

••• typing

You : seriously You got the wrong number, im not lee Jieun.

+82 (02) 491-7265:

•••

+82 (02) 491-7265:

The person on the other side stopped texting and you wondered who this mysterious man was? Was this lee Jieun the famous IU? If so could this man be one of her rumored to be boyfriends? This stranger did say that they would see each other at gaeyo daejun a place for celebrities.... nah that's like a one in a million chance a celebrity could be texting you. Get it together.

+82 (02) 491-7265: wow you really stooped a low one Jieun 👏🏻👏🏻 thanks for continuously keeping up your act. You don't know anything right? You didn't cheat right? You love me still right?

You: dude

You: I'm not this Jieun girl.

+82 (02) 491-7265:

•••

+82 (02) 491-7265:

You threw your phone across the bed. Your hair disheveled. Light from the early morning peeked three the blinds and you hoped to start the day off right. But now you had someone harassing you claiming that you were a cheating slut named Jieun.

You peeked to see if the perpetrator had hung up or not. They hadn't. What was you supposed to do? Answer? No this was a stranger. Plus this stranger was angry.

Missed FaceTime call...

+82 (02) 491-7265: What are you so afraid of Jieun? Can't answer because it's really you. Can't face the truth. Can't look me in my eyes now? Don't wanna feel guilty for making me hurt for you? ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE. Malhaebwa! Tell me why you did this? Tell me why you got me over here crying over you? Tell me why you hurt me. Show your self! Delivered

You didn't dare look at the message. You only read it from the lock screen not knowing what to do or say to this person anymore. He was going ballistic over this one particular girl and you weren't her. It wasn't your problem. All you had to do was block him and be on your way. You didn't have to keep running in circles trying to get him to understand that you weren't who he thought you was.

Plus this other girl sounds awful. You would never have the heart to cheat on someone and break their heart. You kind of felt bad for the poor guy. Whoever he was.

+82 (02) 491-7265: oh no don't ignore me now! Your going have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Don't think that you can do whatever you want and get away with it. Delivered

+82 (02) 491-7265: ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE YOU CHEATING SLUT. Delivered

+82 (02) 491-7265: explain to me this! What was I to you? Was I anything to you at all? How come I fell for you so hard and lost myself only for you to give your self to someone else? Delivered +82 (02) 491-7265: tell me this why can't I see myself without you? What even is life now. I've been shooken up and I feel dysfunctional. I hate that guy. If I ever find out who his I'll beat his ass. Read at 9:56 am

You: •••

You: I swear I'm not Jieun. I'm y/n

Read at 9:56am

+82 (02) 491-7265: •••

+82 (02) 491-7265: prove it. Read at 9:57am

You: fine.

You: how what do you want me to do so you'll leave me alone?

read at 9:56

Your heart drop out of your chest and you didn't know what you could possibly do in a situation like this. You wanted to prove him wrong so he would stop harassing you but at the same time you just woke up and you looked a mess. Not that you had to impressed the poor boy but you would never let anyone just see you like this.

You rushed to the bathroom and combed your hair and brushed your teeth. Your phone kept going off in the background and you ignored it as you tried to make your self presentable.

He kept calling and calling as you tried to go as fast as you could. You pulled your hair back and quickly washed your face and payed it dry. You ran out to pick up your phone.

2 missed calls from unknown

You ran back to the bathroom to put some mascara on lightly.

You came back out and he had hung up again.

+82 (02) 491-7265: answer if you are who you say you are JIEUN

you: •••

You began typing A reply but-

You hesitated but continued anyways accepting the call from the infuriated man.

Connecting.....

You held your breath with every second about to meet the man from the other side not exactly knowing what to do next.

He paused as he took you and realizing who you were and NOT Jieun. He had made a mess and was unable to go back now. You wanted to smirk but at the same time you couldn't breath. There on your phone was the Jeon jungkook front man of 방탄소년단. You tried not to freak out so the only thing you could do was stair.

"I don't know what to say other that sorry for harassing you," he looked down looking sad more that angry. He seemed disappointed like he hoped you were her. Which was sad because he shouldn't want to see someone who cheated on him.

"I-it's okay, are you satisfied now so we can part ways." You wanted to run, run as far as way as you could from this situation this was one hell of a morning. Harassment and now you were harboring a deep secret that you wish you could forget.

He looked back up at you and you could see the hurt in his eyes and you felt bad. "Yeah I'm okay, but now I feel worse," he said stairing intently at you.

Your stomach turned and you couldn't sit still your eyes bouncing everywhere but his. "Why?"

"Because ..."

you raised your eyebrows waiting for him to continue.

"Because now you know who I am and what is going on how will I know you won't go to the tabloids and expose me and Jieun?"

You knew this was coming. Damn it you should have never answerd this call you should have never thought that him seeing you would fix everything it only made it worse. Like said you could have just blocked him and called it a day. You would have rolled out of bed just fine and now you were stairing into the eyes of a international celebrity.

This was a big no no.

"I won't I promise."

"That's what they all say," he sighed.

"How much money do you want yo stay quiet? How much would it take for you to keep your word,"

You drew your head back. " this is none of my business is has nothing to do with me don't drag me into this! You texted me and went off and exposed your self without checking yo make sure that it was her! I want no part of this and I don't wnat your money.

"Why because the magazines will give you more?"

"No because I'm not the type to take money from strangers or anyone for that matter. Listen I don't wnat your money I'll keep my word for free. I'll delete your number and pretend this never happened.

"Oh but it did,"

You sighed. You were annoyed.

There was a knock at the door from jungkooks side of the call. "We're leaving in an hour."

You knew that voice you wish you didn't.

"Okay, hyung," jungkook said his head turned around. "Oh wait jin hyung I won't be down for breakfast I feel a little sick."

"Okay, but get some rest before we all leave,"

Dae"

He turned back towards the camera and he looked at you. "I'll figure somthing out. You'll hear from me again. Don't change your number aresseo? I gotta go so I can get ready for today's schedules talk to you soon,"

He quickly hung up and your phone went back the home screen.

Great what have you Diddley done?

yes, hi. i started a new book. yes i haven't finished my other ones. yes ill eventually finish them. just roll along with it. if you follow me you should know by now that i cant get my life together, and i love starting new things just to not finish them. but you still love me right? i just have so many ideas and if i start them then eventually ill finish them lol

but tell me what you think? should i continue? does this style plot seem interesting? comment give feed back or ill start something else new! lol