#i should maybe kill myself man this is getting seriously annoying

[iqmmir]

I xcant sleep have i seriously been cursed to simply suffer forever

[jimmycarterghostland]

I'm currently reading Plague 12.8 of Worm.

Man, the Slaughterhouse Nine are some ruthless, cold-blooded people. They're what fictional villains should be: terrifying. And their lack of a conscience makes them so much worse. Like, how can Shatterbird even do what she did? Shatter every glass in a city full of innocent people, wounding them or killing them? So brutal, and evil. The good thing about that is that I can take her and the other S9 members seriously as villains. They're genuinely scary. BTW, Bonesaw is annoying to me, though. I would like it better if she didn't have that stupid goofy, childish personality. I guess it's supposed to be uncanny because of the contrast of how violent she is, but it annoys me instead of terrifying me.

Jack Slash hurt Tattletale. Now you've gone too far, JS. She's my favorite character in Worm. I wonder if she will finally reveal her backstory soon, something I've already spoiled a bit for a myself at some point before starting this proper, chronological order read of Worm. On the bright side, it's good that Jack has hurt someone. Now we have even more proof that the S9's violent reputation is real. Their leader just cut a teenage girl's face just because she revealed something that he wanted to reveal first. Jack doing that isn't a surprise, though. After all, in his introduction chapter, he throws a baby at her brother. That made it pretty clear that Jack is a monster, if the S9's reputation wasn't enough proof.

I still want to see Crawler.

Also, before Shatterbird appeared in Hookwolf's chapter, I thought her power of shattering glass was the only thing she could do. But no, she also controls glass. Can do things like move it around. That makes her even more of a threat.

Mannequin is horrifying. It doesn't help that I've got a doll and mannequin phobia. And the body horror aspect of Mannequin only unsettles me more. Someone being able to turn themselves into a mannequin, with much of their flesh and blood missing, is hard for me to comprehend. Mannequin doesn't even have eyes. Even if someone could survive having their body modified in the way Mannequin did to himself, who would screw their body up that drastically? What Mannequin did to himself is worse than what happens when someone's face gets ruined by botched plastic surgery. The dude practically isn't even human anymore.

I did like how Taylor insulted him to try forcing him to attack her instead of that woman and her son. Mannequin wanted to kill those two and he wasn't going to let a stupid insult get in the way of that. A less scary villain would have gotten offended and turned his attention back to Taylor, falling for the bait. And the fact that Mannequin can't speak makes him scarier. The funny thing is that I feel more fear whenever he shows up than I did when Leviathan did. Maybe because there were a lot of capes fighting him, and it was easier for a single cape to survive, because there were so many of them. When Taylor fought Mannequin, all of his focus was on her. And there were no other capes to provide backup.

And a few people in the comments of some Worm chapters were surprised that no one has killed Jack Slash yet. They were shocked no one ever put a bullet in him, considering he's not invincible or nearly so. Well, the guy clearly knows how to pick his battles. You see how he went to Purity's home when he knew she might be too weak to kill him with her power. Plus he has Siberian as a deterrent, which he used to his advantage when he confronted Taylor and the other Undersiders. A lot of the time preventing your death is all about taking precautions. Jack isn't one of those villains in badly written novels where the bad guys get defeated because they don't use their brains. Jack is genuinely clever. Not being invincible doesn't mean you can't be unstoppable.

The S9 are well-written villains. And their introduction chapters show how menacing they are, and that they're a threat to be taken seriously. They give a great, villainous first impression. Wildbow is doing a good job writing them.

I'm really loving this arc. The stakes in Worm get higher and higher, which is a sign of good writing.

[tarisilmarwen]

Ahsoka "Dreams and Madness" Liveblog

Heeeeeeeeee.

My week has sucked, let's get into this already, this is some of the only true joy I'm deriving from life right now.

(I'm okay but legitimately, my week has sucked, lemme have this.)

HELLO CORUSCANT YOU'RE LOOKING PRETTY.

Ho daaaaayum, Hera bringing the fire to this meeting.

I am... annoyed by the emphasis on Hera as a maverick though, she was the Rebels character MOST beholden to the protocol and procedure of the hierarchy, the time she saved Kanan was the only time she ever really defied orders and dammit I have just patchworked myself my own answer okay so obviously she's normally very rule-abiding EXCEPT for times when her family and the people she cares about most need her help and no one else will give aid to her.

Curses upon my ability to iron out plot wrinkles I don't like.

Filoni must REALLY not like Xiono, he's giving him all the skeptic lines.

Course this is also one of the times the writing has to be hampered by trying to patchwork and salvage the Sequel Trilogy by explaining why the New Republic ignored the problem of the First Order until it was too late.

HI THREEPIO.

Man I am gonna cry ugly tears when we lose Antony Daniels, he loves playing Threepio so much, he's always up for it, never once complained that no one knows him from anything else.

Right so I get why they had Threepio deliver a message instead of trying to CGI frankenstein Leia into this but also Disney are cowards JUST RECAST THE MAIN TRIO I PROMISE NO ONE ACTUALLY HOLDS IT AGAINST ALDEN, TLJ JUST SUCKED AND SOLO WAS THE NEXT PRODUCT WE HAD TO TAKE THINGS OUT ON.

Seriously, the de-aging and CGI puppetry is starting to get uncomfortable and weird.

Chopper bout to throw hands in this courthouse lol.

I'm sorry, the emphasis on just how LONG this hyperspace trip is is absolutely making me reel with adoration for Ezra, he held the air inside the bridge of the Chimaera and the door closed and Thrawn in place ALL THE WAY TO PERIDEA IN ANOTHER FREAKING GALAXY.

YOUR FAVE COULD NEVER.

Loosen up a bit Rosario, you're stiff.

Oof that little bow between Ahsoka and Holo!Anakin.

Huyang begrudgingly having to remember to trust the Force lol.

Ohhhhh bastard, he put explosives in orbit to stop the purrgil!

.....Making the ring against the planet like that was supposed to be a visual reminder of the Death Star right?

The look of subtle but dawning horror in Thrawn's face when he realizes Ahsoka was Anakin's padawan lololol.

Like, "Ffffffffffffff--"

"Jedi are very good at hiding. They've been practicing that for years." Ah yes, excellent, another moment/quote I can add to my collection of "Thrawn barely containing his seething loathing of Ezra" bits lol.

*perks* Oh? Are we at the interesting parts now?

Ahhhh yes the minivan convoy with mom and dad Sabezra at the front.

There should have been waaaaaay more infodumping in this conversation, I need Ezra to boggle over everything.

Sabine still avoiding the question, but lol at Ezra's "The usual level [of complicated] or worse?" that's so cute.

THEIR BANTER IS ADORABLE I AM PILLOWING MYSELF IN IT AND MAKING A BLANKET FORT.

FRICK THIS IS PERFECT.

Ugh and he doesn't push her to talk about it, he's still so considerate of her armor and walls.

Someone, maybe multiple someones commented that they could see serious Two Towers aesthetics in this and... yeah no this is super LOTR-esque.

Lars Mikkelson continuing to kill it with his performance, as basic as it is.

[SIGHS HEAVILY AT THE CONTINUING INSISTENCE ON MAKING SABINE FORCE SENSITIVE] Okay, Filoni, whatever.

I'm ignoring this, I'm pretending she reached out to Ezra instead.

"Took me in when I really needed help." Ohhhhh do not do that, do not plant hurt/comfort ideas in my head ghgkasuhfkauhf.

He is so softly concerned about her aaaaahhhhhh.

I saw a few people confused by Baylan basically abandoning Shin to things here when he was acting so fond of her last episode so let me maybe shed some light on that situation. Ahem:

THE DARK SIDE DESIRE FOR POWER SLOWLY CONSUMES YOU UNTIL IT IS OVERWHELMING, UNTIL WHAT YOU WANTED THE POWER FOR NO LONGER MATTERS. THAT'S ITS NATURE THAT'S WHAT IT DOES. BECOMES MORE AND MORE OF AN OBSESSION UNTIL IT'S ALL YOU CARE ABOUT.

So yes, Baylan chucking Shin out to find her destiny or whatever because whatever it is that he's trying to seize power from is making him completely overlook her feelings.

"If Lord Baylan proves capable..." LOLOLOL BAYLAN DECIDED TO SCREW THAT NOISE HE'S IN IT FOR HIMSELF MY MAN.

GUNSHIPS! GUUUUUNSHIIIIIIIPS!

:D

Ezra can't leave the one crashed one, awwwwww.

Frick, him being the Noti's protector is just so frigging cute. I need fluff fics.

I'M GONNA DIE FROM THIS BANTER, IT'S ADORABLE.

Battle Couple Sabezra now? Y/Y?

Baylan's whole demeanor is changing, it's like he's soaking up the Dark Side energy of this place. Once again, awed by Ray Stevenson's sheer presence. The man feels massive and he's just standing there.

LOLOL THIS WHOLE ARGUMENT OVER THE "OUR" LIGHTSABER.

I'm grinning.

But also I wanna see Ezra hold his lightsaber again, pretty please?

Ahsoka doing much better now that she has both her blades this time.

*pillows hands* Can I watch Ezra forever please. I missed you son. Never leave me again.

HUYAAAAAAAAANG! :D

Oh man, how much dread and chagrin do you think Ezra had when he saw the stormtroopers?

Ho ho Thrawn looks eager for this.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEE.

(They are this close to holding hands you guys.)

This is probably giving Ezra flashblacks.

Oh sue me I want some angst and whump and pain to have happened in the interim.

Ahsoooooookkaaaaaaaaaaa! :D

Oh for, please stop using the beskar as literal plot armor. It sucks a lot of danger out of the fight.

Thrawn being all Xanatos Gambit like the pro he is.

Shin looking like she might cry, oh wow actual emotions.

FRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIICCCCKKK THAT ADORABLE LITTLE LAUGH.

Oh gosh, don't jinx it don't jinx it don't jinx it...

Wheeeeeeeeee that was... fun, actually!

The Sabezra bits were adorable. I have quibbles here and there but I'm just so happy being Sabine being happy and content and seeing Ezra being... Ezra.

Nervous for the last ep though. Hhhgnghhhhh I am very much stressed and I do not wish to be.

[szilianna]

I fucking hate the way i have fun. But at least i have fun. But its annoying as fuck. but people find it funny. But im really not having fun i want to fucking kill myself. Its not funny. But fuck it it is. Me laughing like a maniac then getting scolded for it is fucking funny. Me wanting to hug my crush who doesnt like me back is fucking funny because she laughs at how desperate i am and i know she'll never be mine. I promised her I'd stop. But im a fucking idiot. She kinda lets me hug her and hold her hand and stuff but she likes boys so here goes my luck i fucking hate myself. Maybe if i looked prettier but no diets will change my nose and my fucking arms that are fucking long and it looks weird and i want to kill myself but i dont really want to at the same time because i just tell everyone, i dont have the courage to do it. And i know that very well that no one would be sad for me they'd either be disappointed or happy, like the kid i bully, because im a bad fucking person. Shes annoying as fuck and stinks so bad i have the urge to vomit but we have to take her seriously cuz she tried to kill herself and got into the hospital for it and i didnt so im not even serious about it and i know im fucking pathetic for whining here instead of doing something else like studying for my exams but i couldnt study. Why study if ill end up killing myself one day and if it triggers you fuck yourself i don't give a fuck man the fuck up I LOST A FRIEND OVER VENTING TO HER ABOUT MY FEELINGS AND IT FUCKING TRIGGERED HER AND SHE TOLD ME AND I WAS LIKE DIDN'T YOU SAY I CAN TELL YOU ANYTHING?! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF IT TRIGGERS YOU IT SHOULD, IT FUCKING SHOULD TRIGGER YOU

Normalize being not overly sensitive and not being a walking wikipedia about how things are wrong. I don't care. I don't care because you dont have shit to do with me except for reading these shits i write instead of sh. Feel bad or good I don't care. This acc for me is like a diary. A digital one that i will never lose. Not your safe space. Not what you want to hear.

[causeitsagame]

Ishimondo as spies tasked with finding each other?

Ahahaha this was fun. The plot took me in a little different direction than your prompt (they're tasked to work together, instead), but it was fun to just let that flow.

-----

"Yeah, I heard you," yawned Mondo Owada, and scratched behind his ear.

The woman on the other end of the line gave a tight, annoyed sigh. "You should treat this arrangement with more gravity. Should we decide to cancel it, you'll be right back in prison."

"Stop bustin' my balls, man," Mondo grumbled into his phone as he walked toward a cluster of men. "I said I fuckin' heard you, and you'll get it when you get it." The group sized him up as he approached. Apparently, he passed whatever test they'd been applying, and they let him through rather than challenge his presence.

"Excuse me?" the woman sputtered. "If you want to have me report to your superior right now, then I'll—"

As soon as he was safely in an alleyway and away from any prying eyes, Mondo gripped his phone tighter and hissed into it. "Okay, now there aren't any damn guys listening in. You know where you sent me, right? You think I'm gonna be able to say 'sure, boss!' and salute the phone? Screw your fuckin' head on straight!"

The woman's silence somehow deepened.

Mondo shrugged. "Guess I shouldn't have added that last bit."

"Very well," she gritted out. "We will keep the unique circumstances of this mission in mind, and contact you only when we must."

"And send a text instead of calling, so I can answer you whenever."

"Hmmm." She hung up without an actual goodbye, and Mondo snorted at the phone before jamming it into his pocket.

He'd been offered a straightforward arrangement by her government agency: in exchange for getting out of prison a hell of a lot earlier than he'd otherwise see, Mondo would report on a gang's activities.

Phrased like that, he'd turned them down instantly. Mondo Owada wasn't a fucking snitch.

The agency tried again, with more of an explanation. This gang wasn't a comparatively harmless one, like the one he'd gotten put away for. The gang targeted for surveillance didn't trade in mere larceny or assault. No: they were probably a front for an international bioterrorism group, and any ruckus they deliberately caused would be to draw police support away from the research labs of interest.

Fucking great!

Seriously, that was really fucking great. Just what Mondo wanted to fucking hear: if he wanted to get out of jail, he'd be spying on a bunch of murderous pricks trying to end the fucking world, from the sound of it. And he couldn't not spy on them once he'd heard what was actually going on, because otherwise, they'd end the fucking world!

Or something.

Maybe they'd just kill a lot of people.

Pain in the goddamn ass, either way, and the agency that was supposedly overseeing him was clearly in over their heads. Sighing, Mondo checked his hair, then went back out into the thick of things. Before he got access to any of the good intel, he'd need to make some friends.

Two nights later, a tattooed gangster with a cueball of a shaved head elbowed Mondo. "Check it out," he chuckled, and pointed down the sidewalk.

Mondo stared blankly at the indicated man. The stranger was also trying to make friends with the gangsters around him, and doing a goddamn fuckin' awful job of it. His hair was cropped short, which neatly featured his bold, intense features and near-unblinking stare. He looked fit enough to swing a bat or crowbar, too. Pity he'd covered those muscles with some sort of… Mondo didn't even know what. Some sort of Akira cosplay from the fuckin' 1980s.

"Hello!" said the stranger as he walked up to Mondo. "I'm working on introducing myself!"

The tattooed gangster chuckled and shooed him away. "It's past your bedtime, kid."

"I assure you, I am no 'kid!' I have reached the age of legal majority!"

For fuck's sake. Mondo ran a hand across his face. If he'd been hired to save lives, then he'd better start with this idiot before he got his face caved in. "I'll go dump him somewhere."

"Dump?" the man asked with concern, but he let himself be led.

As they rounded a corner and entered an alley, Mondo gestured to its far end. "I don't know how you ended up here, bro, but this place clearly ain't for you. Head off before you make an enemy you can't manage."

"Don't be concerned, Mondo. I am fully apprised of the situation!" The man considered things, and cheerfully added, "Bro!"

"That's… huh?" Mondo blinked at him. He didn't think he was known by enough of the gang to have his name shared with a newcomer, yet. "How do you know my name?"

"Kiyotaka Ishimaru," the man replied. "You may refer to me as Taka."

"Whatever. Who the fuck are you, and why should I give a shit?"

Taka's voice dropped in pitch and volume, but even at a whisper, he still seemed somehow boisterous. "Your supervisor agreed that communicating over the phone was risky. I am a highly decorated agency member and I've come to be your direct backup."

Mondo stared, hoping that he'd somehow misheard. No such luck. "You're my backup?" he demanded, and looked the visibly out-of-place man over. "Fuck that!"

Taka straightened. "I have overseen protocol for seventeen embassy surveillance missions, and have avoided nearly as many diplomatic crises! And as you can see, I've even pieced together an authentic gang uniform!"

"Then head back to the office, pencil pusher. You don't have the first idea how to behave, here."

For the first time, Taka looked genuinely offended. "I have thoroughly researched this setting. I even developed a behavioral flowchart with my superiors. It balances the law, anthropological group norms, and the importance of the mission's desired outcome."

"Fucking hell," Mondo grimaced.

"Hey. Owada. Haven't you dumped him off somewhere, yet?"

Grumbling, Mondo turned to the bald gangster they'd left behind. "Guy just won't shut up. I'll be back in a second." Despite his suggestion, the man kept stumbling into the alley after them both. Hostility radiated from him, and clear intoxication didn't help.

"No need to wait." The man took a step closer, and jabbed a finger into Taka's chest hard enough to leave a bruise. "Fuck off, kid, or—"

Taka grabbed the man's wrist in an overhand grip, rotated it backward, and applied enough pressure to the joint to make the man yelp in pain. "You seem to be under the misapprehension that I need your approval!"

Mondo blinked. Well. The guy was dumb, but he had balls.

Once released, the gangster stared at him with disbelief. "What the fuck did you just pull?" he demanded, and pulled his fist back to send a haymaker right through Taka's nose.

The agency newcomer didn't seem to be a trained fighter, but Mondo had guessed correctly that Taka had some real athleticism under his ridiculous outfit. He easily dodged the drunk man's punch, and stepped aside to let him go stumbling headfirst into a brick wall.

"I wouldn't normally engage in any sort of assault, even indirect," Taka whispered to Mondo. "But the agency assured me that I needed to display some physical capacity to gain group approval. And that it would be worth it, given the stakes of this operation."

Despite himself, Mondo couldn't help but laugh. "The fuck is up with you, bro?"

"We're partners!" Taka cheerfully said, still too quiet for baldie to hear. "And I assure you, I have studied criminal infiltration thoroughly. I will live up to this vital task!"

"Fuckin' hell," Mondo said again, but this time, he chuckled. "Whatever, bro. You'd better not get in my way."

Returning to jail would probably be easier. But this, at least, should be entertaining.

[sarcastic-salem]

If you’re into the whole natural aging that’s fine. I agree that no one should have to spend their whole life constantly preening and covering themselves up in 10lbs of makeup. If they don’t want to. You’re allowed to grow your hair heart long and snarled and gray, you’re allowed to free the titties — seriously, I do that a lot. No bras or binders if I’m at home.

You could even go live in a dirt hut in the middle of the Smokey Mountains and have a mud bath.

If you want to.

But here’s the thing some people enjoy makeup. That doesn’t mean they wear it every day or reconstruct their face like a mask with contouring. As far as I’m concerned, those people are extremists. With probably very bad self-esteem issues.

So maybe you oughta work on building people up a bit instead of dictating their appearance, yeah?

Some people enjoy being sexualized and that includes men, women, and enbies.

And ffs do not turn this into a conversation about how problematic the character Harley Quinn is. Because she isn’t. Saying otherwise only goes to show that

You missed the entire point of Birds Of Prey and her origin story. BoP has a stronger feminist message than Captain Marvel. That message is that women should build each other up in order to take down the patriarchy. Which is why it has a reputation as “misandrist trash” among the incels.

You haven’t picked up a comic book or tuned into a Batman animated film in about 10 years. Harley is an ANTIHERO with her own set of ethically grey morals. She has been problematic in the past but she has also —

-Owned an animal shelter

-Worked as a psychiatrist while working to overcome her own mental illness

-Placed her daughter, Lucy, in her sister’s care so that the Joker would have no access to her

-Stopped the Joker from blowing up a fucking orphanage

She’s even an honorary member of the Batfam because she has helped them solve crimes. And annoyed the shit outta them in the process.

Why, because Bruce Wayne — a man who has gotten two of his children killed and doesn’t believe in therapy — has a better sense of empathy, and a better understanding of the psychological ramifications of domestic abuse, manipulation tactics, and cult brainwashing headgames than anyone

Who guilt trips people for wearing the clothing & makeup that they want to wear

And I am not intentionally sexualizing mental illness in anyone. My point is only that

The character Harley Quinn enjoys being sexualized.

Yeah, I know Margot Robbie did not enjoy it as much and that is why she was an executive producer on Birds Of Prey, and if you watch the movie you will see that Harley is a lot more covered up in BoP than in Suicide Squad 2016. In fact, one of the complaints mostly commonly mentioned in the hateful reviews for the film is that “Harley wasn’t hot enough anymore.” My own step-father said that when we walked out of the cinema, and I had to stop myself from smacking him.

Sadly, dressing in uncomfortable outfits often comes hand-in-hand with acting gigs and I think that all actors should have more say over their character wardrobes. Hollywood, however, tends disagree.

And if anyone has any objections to Pinhead’s presence, I seriously suggest you pick up a copy of Clive Barker’s Hellbound Heart.

Seriously, though, why do you think poledancing classes exist?

Do you think there are no strippers or models anywhere on this earth that don’t enjoy their work? Seriously?

Like I said, you can be into the natural aging thing.

But the second you start shaming people who aren’t into it, you become an asshole👌🏻

Sorry about the monster long essay about Harley Quinn — absolutely not the point of this post. But the second I list her as a feminist role model, my inbox gets fucking flooded with TERFy radfem bullshit.

[laceratedlamiaceae]

As a sort of companion to my "every time Izzy fails at something, it's because of Stede" post, I want to talk about how pretty much every bad thing he does is out of a (very misguided) sense of duty to Ed, and I want to talk about why that matters. As a warning, I will be (briefly) mentioning the Toe Thing™ so skip the last paragraph if you're sick of people talking about that.

The only exceptions are taking Stede's hostages, which seems like a normal pirate thing, and bullying Lucius (which I'm not going to defend, but like... if I was stuck somewhere with a bunch of annoying people and the one person I liked was ignoring me in favor of someone I hated I would probably do some fucked up shit too).

Izzy challenges Stede to the duel because he thinks he needs to help Ed with his plot to kill Stede. Ed tells him "we're not doing this," but Izzy clearly took that to mean that Ed just didn't feel like killing Stede because he responds "No, you're not doing this, so I must." (I can't find it now, but I read a post about how awful Izzy and Ed are at communicating with each other, and this is a good example of that). Obviously they should have just talked about it (which Ed even points out later), but talking is hard and stabbing is easy.

Izzy sells Stede out to the British because he thinks that Stede's "done something to my boss' brain." He doesn't realize Ed is just happy and expressing a real part of himself; I doubt he would even know what happiness looks like. He thinks that Stede has driven Ed (who he already thinks is "half insane") fully off the deep end, and so he arranges for Stede to be killed because, from his point of view, it's the only way to save Ed from the man who's ruining him. (I've seen a few takes that he sells both Ed and Stede out, which just isn't true; he sends Calico Jack to get Ed away, and when that fails he convinces the British to let Ed go in return for giving them Stede).

Izzy confronts Ed in episode 10 because he thinks Ed has fully lost it and he needs to pick up the pieces. I've seen a lot of different takes on what exactly was going on with Ed in that episode, and while I don't really agree with the idea that he was getting better before Izzy confronted him, it doesn't matter what was actually happening. From Izzy's perspective, Ed has completely given up on being Blackbeard and just wants to fuck around singing songs all day. I think it's worth noting that Izzy didn't do anything while Ed was hiding out in the blanket fort; he knows the Ed beneath the Blackbeard edifice and he only has a problem when Ed starts making it public. Obviously it would be better for Ed to express himself and explore his identity, but this is Izzy; doesn't know anything about what's emotionally healthy. So instead, he says the things he says. (seriously, just read the linked post; it does a way better job breaking down that scene than I could).

I bring all this up because I want to make a point about one of the reasons he's such a divisive character. I think a lot of the Discourse™ about Izzy gets so heated because it's about a deeper philosophical conflict. Maybe I'm way off base, but I imagine a lot of Izzy apologists (such as myself) are the type to take intentions into account (in philosophy terms, deontology or virtue ethics), and Izzy's intentions are mostly good (towards Ed, obviously he's fine with Stede dying). I'd guess that most people who don't like Izzy lean more towards consequentialism: they don't care what he intended; all that matters is that his actions hurt people.

Hopefully looking at all the Izzy Discourse™ from the perspective that it's about moral philosophy can help people understand the other side; I know I started to get where all the Izzy haters were coming from when I considered his actions from a consequentialist point of view. I still don't really agree with them, but I do now think their view is (in general, obviously some people are way off base) valid.

I really don't want to involve myself in the current discourse, but I think it's worth noting that this is part of the reason why some people see the Toe Thing™ as so much worse than anything Izzy did. Ed did that to hurt Izzy and reassert his control, which is a way less sympathetic intention than "I wanted my boss to be happy but I'm an idiot who's really wrong about what makes him happy." Whether or not that matters depends on your feelings about consequentialism.

[wormstacheangel]

Cold wc:1.6k

“You okay back there?”

Dean turned around to look back at his hunting partner. Cas was climbing up the snow-covered hiking trail looking like he was five seconds away from shaking his fist at Dean before calling him out for accepting this last-minute hunt. But of course, he can’t complain. Either they took it, or Claire was going to get it, an excuse to drop out of school during finals.

“Fine.” Dean bit at his cheek to stop himself from grinning and teasing the angel. Well, more human than angel nowadays. He was still terrifying, though. And he seemed to get grumpier the colder and steeper the trail got. “My socks are wet.”

Dean couldn’t stop the chuckle this time. Earning him a dark glare from his partner, but he knew it was more directed at the circumstances than to him personally.

Dean waits for him at the edge of the trail, stretching his arms over his head to enjoy the view they were at least getting. The forest looked dense beneath them, thinning the higher they climbed. “Well, ain’t she a beaut.”

Cas stopped to stand by Dean’s side. Leaning against a tree that hung worriedly at the edge of the trail. One wrong step, and Cas will be sliding down the side of this hill. And shit, as an angel, maybe that wasn’t something to worry about—who is he kidding? He would have worried anyway—but he’s primarily human now, and Dean couldn’t help himself. He pulled at Cas’s coat so he could stand safely by his side.

“Dude, careful. If you fall, don't expect me to go get you.” Dean huffed, trying to sound annoyed. “I’m not climbing a mountain twice in one day.”

Cas looked over the edge before shrugging Dean’s arm off him. “Understood.” Without looking back at Dean, he went back to lean against the tree. Rubbing his gloved hands together and blowing at them to get them warm. “The view is nice.”

Dean swallowed hard, knowing he just made the grumpy angel worse. “Seriously, man, you're gonna fall.”

“Dean, I know how to take care of myself.”

“Nobody is saying you don’t.” Dean reached for Cas again, pulling him in by the wrist and holding him close. They were inches away as they stood chest to chest, eyes meeting. “I’m just asking you to be careful. Please.” Cas looked away, but Dean reached to catch his glance again. Pleading with him with unspoken words that he knew Cas would understand. For me?

Cas rolled his eyes at that, looking back at him with soft blue eyes and red cheeks from the cold. Then, with a deep sigh, Cas pulled his wrist away and quietly said, “Of course.”

Then Cas started to walk ahead. Knowing damn well Dean will be following after him. There is no way in hell he will ever let his best friend leave him behind again.

So they walked in silence the rest of the way up the hiking trail until they found a tree with the three red slashes the police report talked about.

“This is where they found the hiker's body.” Dean reached to touch the dried bloody scratches.

“Some of it, at least.” Cas corrected. He kneeled down by the tree and took out the map they bought at the station. Dean crouched down beside him, shoulders brushing. “Whatever killed the hiker and took the other three must be close by.”

“So what are we thinking? Wendigo?”

“Probably. I’m just glad Claire is safe at home.”

Such a good dad. Dean thought as he continued to listen to Cas’s thoughts on where they should go searching next.

“After this,” Dean used the tree to help him stand up. “Maybe we can take the kids to get a Christmas tree. I mean, if you want. You know, to do that this year.”

Cas smiled up at him. “Really? You want me to be a part of that?”

“Course!” Dean awkwardly hits the tree with his fist. Trying to find words to feelings he kept having trouble expressing since Cas came back. “Course, I want you to be a part of it, Cas. You know I always,” Dean felt the heavyweight on his head and shoulders before he felt the icy burn that was clumping inside his jacket. “Ah! Fuck!”

“Dean!” Cas quickly rushed to help. Brushing snow off his head and shoulders. “Dean! Stand still.”

Dean was struggling to get his jacket off. Cursing the snow as he jumped around, hoping the snow would all just slide off him but to no avail. It was so fucking cold that he couldn’t focus on much else.

That is until he heard Cas gasp out in shock.

Everything happened so quickly. Cas’ eyes widened. His hand grasped in the air as his feet started to slip from an icy patch. He could hear the snow tumbling down the side of the hill where Cas would soon be falling. And nothing else mattered.

He didn’t have time to second guess himself or even understand what his body was doing. So instead, he jumped after him.

All that mattered was Cas. Cas. Save Cas.

He tucked Cas to his chest. Shielding him, protecting his head, as they both rolled down the hill.

It felt endless at first that maybe they would fall forever while Cas hid his face into Dean’s jacket, but it only lasted a few seconds.

“Oof!” Dean felt the sting on his back slowly growing, burning him a lot different than the snow did. His back felt like it was spasming with the impact of whatever knocked the fucking air out of his lungs and stopped them from rolling down any further.

A bit of snow followed after them, and as soon as it was calm, Dean relaxed. Feeling his backache when he tried to let the tightness go. And maybe it was all that rolling and blinding snow, but his head felt as if it was floating.

“Dean!” He heard the familiar voice muffled against his chest. Pushing away from Dean’s death grip so he could sit up and look down at him. Dean didn’t fight him. If Cas can sit up, that’s good news, but he’s gonna need a couple of seconds to catch his breath. “Dean, are you okay?”

Dean felt hands on him while he tried to blink away the blurriness. “No. I just fell off a damn mountain.” His vision slowly started to come back, and the blue sky turned out to be two pretty sad eyes. “You okay?”

“I’m-” He sounded shaken, eyes wandering up and down Dean’s body before he composed himself. “I’m fine.” Cas’s hands continued to wipe the snow off Dean before he reached to help him sit up. “I thought you weren’t coming down to get me.”

Dean let out a low dry chuckle that hurt his lower back. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun.” Then, with a huff, Cas sat him down against the tree.

“Stupid.” Cas smiled, it was just as sad as his eyes, but it was a smile. “I would have healed faster than you.”

“Yeah.”

That was all Dean could manage to say when he watched Cas kneel in front of him—taking his face between his gloved hands and reading his face to check if it was okay before Dean felt the familiar tingle of grace run through him. Of course, it was a small amount, and he could tell it took a lot from Cas to heal him, but Dean knew he saved himself an argument.

Dean felt the aches fade away, and the fuzziness in his vision left. Leaving him to watch Cas fall forward until their foreheads crashed and their heavy breaths mixed between them.

Silence.

The air around them was still. There wasn’t any noise, and it almost made the forest feel empty. Hallow. Not a creature was stirring. Not even a mouse.

Dean reached forward to pull Cas in, sitting him beside him while they both stiffened at the silence. It wasn’t peaceful or comforting.

Something was out there.

“Ready?”

Cas reached for Dean’s backpack that fell beside them and started to get out the gas and lighters. “Ready.”

Later, one dead wendigo and the night sky transforming into a beautiful morning, they were back in the Impala.

They both finally relaxed as the heater worked its magic.

“We’re alive.” Dean reached to nudge Cas’s shoulder gently. “You did good.”

Cas chuckled, eyes slowly opening when he turned his head to look back at Dean.

So beautiful. Dean couldn’t help but think as the sun rose from behind the angel.

“Thank you.” Dean wasn’t sure which compliment Cas was responding to. “Are we going home now?”

“Give me a sec.” Dean let his head lull back against the seat, turning it to look back at Cas with a smile. “Let’s just take a small nap.”

Cas copied him before smiling back to agree.

Then, maybe because the mood was right and they were finally warm, they reached across the bench to hold hands. Squeezing fingers before they let go.

“And then Christmas tree shopping?”

Dean scooted across the bench to slowly lean his head against Cas’s shoulder. Closing his eyes before he overthought his action. Knowing all these small actions would be hard to come back from, he also knew he didn’t want to. He wanted this.

Wanted Cas.

“Yeah.” Dean agreed, feeling a strong, comforting arm wrap around his shoulder to hold him closer. “Whatever you want, Cas.”

“You.” No hesitation. “I want you.”

Those words were hard to swallow and even harder to reply to. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a gentle breath before he nodded. Wanting Cas to know that he already has him.

Always had him.

[yesimwriting]

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

 it ​​a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!! 

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see 

--

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

--

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door. 

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz. 

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.” 

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing.  When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact. 

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.” 

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.” 

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.” 

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.” 

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?” 

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...” 

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me. 

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone. 

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz. 

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.” 

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?” 

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis. 

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.” 

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.” 

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.” 

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely. 

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.” 

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.” 

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.” 

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.” 

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.” 

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.” 

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt. 

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read. 

“You’re falling asleep.” 

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple. 

“You’re impossible.” 

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?” 

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.” 

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.” 

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.” 

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.” 

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.” 

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.” 

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?” 

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?” 

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards. 

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?” 

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.” 

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final. 

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

[mohluskiepedard]

Rating ATLA Characters literally only from what I’ve seen in fandom

or: posts that probably shouldn’t be on my writeblr except I don’t have a sideblog

the context here is it’s half midnight and I have never seen ATLA except I have opinions now apparently so here we go whoop de do- 

I’m also not actually rating them like numerically that’s too much work i’m just stating opinions I know I’m a fraud

AANG

- A child?  - A son?  - he is Baby. but also. he has had It Rough  - would make the updog joke - has unspeakable power or smth and everyone says he’s better than the Korra girl who comes after him but honestly tastes like sexism to me - doesn’t kill people because he’s like twelve, right? he’s like twelve so he refuses to kill people - I stan honestly - less twelve year olds should kill people - Some people say his name WRONG and they are BAD but i don’t actually know what the right way or the wrong way is so. have fun w that yall - lived in peace unTIL THE FIRE NATION ATTACKED 

KATARA

- She is also like twelve???  - Is everyone here twelve - Cortana?? Katana?? Catbug??  - She has good hair, - Her mother is dead??? her mother is dead n she has a brother but she cares about her mother being dead WAY more than him (or apparently the entire fandom??) - Badass - She seems soft. good. sweet - she’s a water breather or whatever??? her brother is NOT but he is a meme - I love her 

SOKKA

- NGL looks like a fuckboy  - The meme brother! does not do the water things, but he has an aXe???  - dates BAMF lady - ngl until I talked to my ATLA watching friend I thought he canonically dated Zuko  - kinda mad he doesn’t - I haven’t actually seen anything about him except like. in zuko ship posts and also Suki appreciation posts - joined the white lotus not-a-cult by accident???  - dark ATLA tumblr show me more Sokka posts - is his name prounounced the same way as Soccer or isn’t it I need to know - HIS FIRST GIRLFRIEND TURNED INTO THE MOON - (AND THAT’S ROUGH, BUDDY) - He and Suki are a good ship, but also, Sokka Has Two Hands

SUKI

- the BAMF herself - she says STOP in that photo but also to sexism - Rlly all I see of her in fanon is abt her teaching Sokka to drink his respect women juice and I appreciate her doing that but also it’s sad she never gets talked about outside of what she did for a man - I hope she has other badass moments w/o him it would suck if she didn’t - she is NOT the girlfriend who turned into the moon, she is the one who didn’t - I don’t know much else about her ATLA Fandom y’all should appreciate her more

ZUKO

- Look at him... my son... - He has a good redemption arc - he and his sister are evil lesbian and redeemed gay guy??? - has a straight canon ship but should’ve been with Sokka this boy is gay - I Want To Protect Him - That’s literally it - he has a cool uncle and his dad sucks  - people ship him with Katara and I Do Not Get It that’s his sister in law except not really - “We don’t trust Zuko’s change of heart” [the next day] “so Zuko is my closest friend now,”  - His dad was like “fuck up the avatar to prove your worth to me” and Aang was like “counter argument you already have worth and we should fuck up your dad” and I think that’s beautiful - he becomes the fire man and he’s very good at it - Zuko for President 2020 - in the words of myself, half an hour ago: “ I was like "that kid with the burn on his face seems like a sad but then happy mlm who needs found family" and I was RIGHT” - took too long to find a happy picture of him :( Zuko rights NOW please - His mother’s story got compared to an OC of mine and all I can say is oh no and they deserve better based on that alone - I have had Zuko for five minutes but if anything else happens to him I will kill everyone in this throne room and then myself

TOPH

- She is badass but like also will murder you while laughing maniacally? - for some reason reminds me of Nott from Critical Role, another show I Have Not Seen - Is blind but gets more out of making jokes abt being blind than she would from being able to see - “Sight is just a cheap tactic to make weak benders stronger!!!” - Literally the opposite of Aang and has killed many people?? - She Can Tell When You’re Lying. But I do not know how and Am simply mildly threatened by this - Therapist: Toph’s ability to know if you’re lying isn’t real and can’t hurt you. Toph’s ability to know if I’m lying:  - She and Zuko.... buddies???  - if not they should be - tiny sad boy needs friends like toph

AZULA

- Evil Lesbian Culture - [BDG Voice] You committed a war crime! Oopsie! - took be gay do crime too literally - her and Zuko have accurate sibling writin except instead of “you ever want to murder your sibling for breathing in the same space as you,” being a Joke Azula took it seriously - okay but with a name like azula she should be the blue bender this ANNOYS me she should NOT be red bender - AZULa  - AZUL - IT MEANS BLUE - She was half of y’alls gay awakenings and it SHOWS - Should have maybe been redeemed too??? Jury is out no one knows - Was she gay for Ty Lee or wasn’t she I can’t tell how much of that Audio is a joke - IS SHE ALSO TWELVE??? IS EVERYONE HERE TWELVE?? IS THIS TWELVE YEAR OLD COMITTING ATROCITIES? 

UNCLE IROH

- A Good Man - Finally, Some Good Fucking [Adult Figures]  - he has the tea. literally and figuratively - Ozai is like “and I will permanently disfigure my son and throw him out” and Iroh is like “What The Fuck, Ozai,” thus voicing the entire audience’s thoughts - Literally the only adult in this that I trust - I? I love him. this is all I have to say. my love for him is unending. Some1 protect this man from all harm   - he’s Zuko’s uncle (and also Azula ig) but he does not seem related to Ozai. is it just a theme in this family that one sibling is chill and one sibling commits horrendous atrocities against your fellow human beings or  - something happened to his son???? :((((( I Don’t Want Him To Have Suffered Like This

OZAI

- A BAD MAN - Uh Oh (stinky)  - THE WORST OF THE MEN  - I do not like him - Bastard man. nasty. committed war crimes and then went “but what if - get this - i also abused my son,”  - I would like him to Not Be Like This - by Like This I mean present and alive  - :/ 

TY LEE

- She’s NOT the There Is No War In Ba Sing Se lady and I don’t know why i thought she WAS but until I looked up her photo I thought that was her  - She looks like a sweetheart tho - I hope nothing bad happens to her????  - talks about auras??? or smth??? let her vibe - She would talk animatedly to me about warrior cats if she was in my year seven class and I was sat alone and I would understand none of it but appreciate her anyway - if azula bullies her I’ll be :( at Azula and Azula will not care because she has Mommy Issues and therefore is slightly unhinged - She seems like that one kid with no trauma vibing at the edge of [every other kid having trauma] and not really getting it but trying her best - Is she also twelve?????? She maybe looks twelve

CABBAGE MAN 

- HIS CABBAGES - fulfills my favourite trope: ordinary person repeatedly has life disrupted by the inconveniences of relying on actual children to save the world - probably has a campaign post canon for letting trained adults fix the worlds’ problems in the future - or sets up the Very First Cabbage Insurance Company - look at him. he loves his cabbages so much. you go you funky lil cabbage man

ALSO THE MOST IMPORTANT ONES MOMO

- LOOK AT HIM HE’S SO GOOD - small. fluffy. big ears - Lord Momo of the Momo Dynasty: his Momoness - a Good Boy...

APPA

- he looks so soft... - he can fly but he just does it by??? vibing through the air?? motionless??? iconic - I saw that one post about mishearing it as Abba and thinking he was Aang’s dad and he looks like he would be a good stand in dad ngl - he’s so LORGE - a chonky boy - love him

that is everyone I have heard of it and if I left someone out it’s a sign that y’all should talk about em more bc I have no clue they exist put more ATLA On my Dash ig I’ll do Legend of Korra ig maybe apparently that one has canon wlw and i love me some canon wlw

[tirsynni]

No fr I hate the way the bar scene in Vendetta tried to make it seem like Leon was selfish for literally taking a vacation after his team died. It always annoys me when i see people posting takes that 'Rebecca was in the right and Leon was whiny', like this man just went through something incredibly traumatic (again!!!), give him a break!

The thing which pisses me off about that scene is that they gave Leon absolutely no time to adjust. I understand that both Rebecca and Chris were fucked up when they went to find Leon. Rebecca had deliberately left the battlefield, only to be violently thrown back in, having to kill one of her friends to boot. Chris just lost another group of people under his protection and he even admitted that he was impatient and rushing a bit when Rebecca asked about how she should be in quarantine and Chris said maybe but he needed her now. They both entered that bar emotionally compromised but on the same page, and they expected Leon to be on that page, too.

Leon has no idea any of this is happening. He's isolated, on vacation, grieving, and probably half-drunk by this point, or at least had a good buzz. All of a sudden Chris and Rebecca charge in, and Leon knew that they were coming for a favor but didn't know the details. They just went straight to the point: we don't care you're on vacation, we need your expertise now.

Chris even noted that something was wrong, commenting that it was too early for Leon to be in that bottle. Notice there were no other comments regarding drinks following this scene, no indication that this was in anyway typical or that this was something they expected from Leon. The things about Leon being an alcoholic are purely fanon, with absolutely minimal support from canon. For Leon to be hitting the bottle like that, something had to be wrong, and yet Chris charged forward like he had with Rebecca: no time for whatever is going on with Leon, they needed Leon's help, and they needed to get moving. The end.

Rebecca and Chris walked in on Leon ten steps ahead of him and were too caught up in themselves to notice that Leon wasn't on the same page. Rebecca insulted both Chris and Leon at one point without realizing that she was compromised, too. Maybe she noted it afterward, as she said in the bathroom that hadn't been very nice of her, but we'll never know, as it was never addressed again.

Like seriously. Chris dragged Leon straight from the bar to the battlefield, even knowing the man had just finished a bottle of alcohol. There was no time for thought: just go go go go. How sober was Leon when he was on that motorcycle? (Which would explain a lot about that scene, actually.)

I desperately want an epilogue to that movie, and until I get it, I'm just going to angrily keep writing them myself. Leon deserved better than that. Hell, at the minimum, Chris and Rebecca should have financed the rest of his vacation.

[lostinyourdreams]

A silly little Tsuguko

╔═══════════════･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.═══════════════╗

Y/n is Sanemis Tsuguko

The prompt: “I’m so happy you’re alive. Because now I can kill you myself. What were you thinking?” “There were kids in there, man. I wasn’t about to let them be eaten.” “Very noble, very stupid. Maybe think to communicate with the rest of us before you go charging towards a hoard of zombies alone?” I found it on Pinterest and I have no idea who's prompt this is- if you know please let me know so I can credit them Warning: none- this is mostly fluff- not accurate to the manga or anime at all and Sanemi personality may bee a bit off- also didnt proof read it:') gender neutral reader

You have taken a small break from training, Sanemi was strict with his training and took it very seriously but luckily for you he had to leave to attend to some other things giving you a few moments to catch your breath yet that too was cut short by the Kasugai Crow that started squaking the next mission "Noth- North East, head North- North East! A lower moon is making easy work of the kanotos! " there was a certain urgency in the crows voice and the way it looked distressed, you knew you should wait for Sanemi to tell you what to do but you could tell there was no time. Quickly grabbing your nichirin blade you headed to the coordinates the crow has given you. You ran as quickly as you could. Using everything Sanemi has taught you to arrive as quickly as possible to the coordinates. By the time you arrived the battle was raging on, 3 young slayers struggling against one of the twelve kizuki, lower rank two

Taking a deep breath in order to catch your breath you got into a fighting stence, despite being rather tired from running all the way here you gave this fight your all, going through all the breathing techniques you were taught by sanemi and trying your best to dodge the attacks, you didn't have a clear plan in mind, you charged without thinking but your skills alone combined with the help of the two slayers, Tanjiro and Inosuke since Zenitsu was mostly cowering in fear. To your surprise a friendly demon came to your aid. You recognise those slayers after seeing Nezuko, the demon traveling with her brother wanting to be turned back into a human. After you decapitated the demon you struggled to breath exhausted from all the fighting and running yet you didn't get a moment of rest as you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder, a voice even more familiar saying “I’m so happy you’re alive. Because now I can kill you myself. What were you thinking?! Running to a mission without letting me know! Dumbass!" Sanemi sounded annoyed, even angry with your actions and that caused your blood to run cold, there was no way you could excuse your behaviour “There were kids in there. I wasn’t about to let them be eaten.” you argued as you turned around to face the Hashira, you tried to sound confident of your actions yet your pounding heart and slightly shaky hands betrayed you “Very noble, very stupid. Maybe consider telling me before you go charging towards a lower moon alone?” He said sternly, arms crossed against his scarred chest and all you could do was nod, you knew he was serious and training will be even more hellish now as a punishment for your rushed actions "I will let you know from now on... I apologise for this" you said as you looked down "Go back to the estate, the kakushi will tend to your wounds" he huffed as he watched you hurriedly making your way back to the estate As you walked away he relaxed his posture, he was only angry with your actions because he was afraid that you would've been dead by the time he arrived, yet watching what you've accomplished tonight he couldn't help but feel somewhat prideful, you have slayed your first lower moon without his help and that surely was something in his eyes

╚═══════════════･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.═══════════════╝

[shus-whore]

STAY

SUMMARY: You’ve had a crush on Reiji ever since you met him, but maybe you were being too pushy. WARNINGS: angst, smut, mentions of anxiety and depression, reader is insecure about her size/weight, Reiji calls reader a whore a couple of times, not really public sex, but he fucks you in a classroom WORD COUNT: 4k

Seeing his raven hair and gloved hands from behind, a smile adorned your features. Running up to him, you began walking beside him.

"Reiji-san, need help with any experiments today?" You questioned eagerly.

"No." He stated coldly.

"Well, are you hungry?" You bared your wrist to him.

"No."

"Mmmmmm....... Is there anything you'd like me to do or help with...?" You stared up at him, a wide smile on your face.

He sighed.

"Leave. Please, leave. Honestly, I don't even know why I'm trying to spare your feelings. Stop annoying me, stop following me around, and stop offering to do things for me!  You're a bothersome woman. I mean, can't you take a hint?" He glared down at you, watching as the smile fell from your face.

"I- I-..." You looked down at the floor, swallowing your tears.

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

"He really said that to you!?" They slammed their fist on the table causing everyone around to look at you guys, eyes wide. You let out a sigh. "Please don't make a big deal out of it, b/f/n. Everyone is entitled to their own feelings and opinions of me."

"Tch. Like hell they are! Who would say that to such kind, beautiful person like you. Tell him to bring his ass to the front of the school so everyone can see me kick his undead ass!" They slammed their other fist on the table, a crack emerging.

You jumped, looking up at them with wide eyes.

"Please... please stop." You looked down at your wrist, sighing. Reiji wasn't the only one who wouldn't bite you, they all wouldn't, except for Laito. Maybe... it was your appearance...?

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

You frantically pulled clothes from your drawer as your searched for your favorite hoodie. It was the most comfortable one you had, black, and it was baggy as hell on you. You loved it. Finding baggy clothing with your body type was difficult and annoying. Honestly, you hated shopping. It left you feeling self conscious and you never found anything that you really liked.

Pulling the hoodie from your drawer, you changed into some comfortable shorts, and that hoodie, then you cleaned the mess you made.

You fell back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling.

What were you supposed to do now?

You didn't want to cry, you were stronger than that. So what? His words were harsh, and you weren't feeling the most confident in the moment, but you'd get through it.

Usually, you'd be following Reiji around, asking if he needed help with anything. You sighed and placed your arm over your eyes.

You weren't going to cry.

You weren't going to cry.

You weren't going to cry.

So, why were you crying?

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

Glancing at his doorway, Reiji quickly looked away and back down at his book. Where were you? Wait, what? What did he care you were? Anywhere but near him was perfectly fine.

He crossed his arms over his chest, sparing one last glance towards the door before continuing reading.

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

The rest of that day, you made sure to keep your distance. Not only that, but you didn't even show up for dinner. Were you... avoiding him..? Usually, you would be all up on him, forcing him into hugs and never leaving his side.

Not like he missed it though!

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

The ride to school was awkward to say the least. Even his brothers could feel it.

"Tch! Would you guys just make up!! The tension is so thick, how the hell am I supposed to breathe in this damn car!" Subaru was ready to kill you two.

"Pfffffft! Even Subaru the clueless noticed! That's how you know it's bad!!" Ayato was hunched over laughing.

Reiji popped him for this causing Yui to tense up. If Ayato was mad, she was collateral.

"Reiji!" He was ready to throttle the man, but Yui grabbed one of his arms.

"Ayato-kun!"

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at Reiji.

So now  you were paying attention to him.

He immediately looked down at his book in hand, glancing up a few seconds later to find you looking out the window.

Your eyes were puffy and red. Had you been crying because of him..?

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

"He what!? I'd pay money to see that!" You're friend laughed.

You knew they were trying to lighten the mood, but honestly, thinking about it made you feel worse. You averted your gaze to the floor.

"Oh no, Y/n, you're not gonna cry over that bastard, are you!?"

"Can we just drop this..?"

They smiled at you,.

"Sure, did I tell you about-..."

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

Honestly, you hadn't felt this bad in a while. You felt like you were on the verge of tears every time someone glanced at you. Being this insecure was unlike you. Of course you have insecurities, everyone does, but it never usually affected you like this.

You kept your head down in the halls, messing with your hands, or sleeves, anything to calm your anxiety. Your heart was beating at 1000 miles a minute, your hands clammy, and you were working up a cold sweat.

You were literally trembling. It's just a fucking hallway. Why couldn't you walk down the hallway?

You knew they weren't watching you, you were probably forgotten in their minds, but that didn't matter.

You were on the verge of tears, your breathing unsteady. They were probably talking about you. No they weren't- but they could have been.

If they weren't talking about you earlier, they had to be talking about you now. You were walking funny, you could feel it. Actually, you looked funny too, huh? This uniform doesn't flatter you, does it? Your hair looks funny too, doesn't it?

No it doesn't. But it could have.

You speed walked to the bathroom, stumbling inside. Your legs were shaky, your nerves going crazy.

Crouching down to the floor, you held your face in your hands.

How did it get like this???

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

You crouched there in the bathroom for a few seconds before collecting yourself and going back out into the hall.

You gripped onto the strap of your bag and made your way to class, trying not to stand out.

You could feel your hands clamming up again, and the cold sweat coming back.

You kept your gaze glued to the floor, trying not to trip, and watching to make sure you weren't walking funny. You were going to make it to class, and when you did, you were going to stop acting like this. That's what you repeated in your head as you walked through the hallway.

That was, until you collided with a broad figure, your bag flying onto the floor.

"S-Sorry !"

You crouched down, beginning to collect your stuff off the floor. You watched the feet of the person you previously collided with as they backed up and began to crouch down. wait... those looked like Reiji's shoes.

No, he must like a popular brand.

You looked away from his feet, praying to every god you could think of.

Please don't be Reiji!

The person crouched down and began to help you collect your fallen items. That's when you saw it, the glove.

Jumping back, you stood abruptly and grabbed your bag from the floor.

"Don't bother, I can do it myself." You glared down at him, e/c eyes burning into the hand that was reaching for one of your papers.

Ouch. "No need to be so harsh, Y/n. I caused you do drop your possessions, so I should help you collect them."

He collected the rest of your papers, and stood to hand them to you.

"Throw them in the trash, I don't want them anymore." You crossed your arms over your chest, turning to leave.

All he could do was stand there, mouth agape.

The trash?

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

You skipped the rest of your classes that night, opting to sit in an empty science lab.

Reiji doesn't skip, so you're fine, and the only other empty room was the music room that Shu liked to be in.

You'd rather not go near that perverted man. He scared you.

Though, if you were being honest, you were hoping to see Reiji. Maybe just in passing, once, or maybe he'd come into the room. Maybe he'd apologize to you. Maybe he'd tell you he missed you.

Hah.

Wishful thinking, you guessed.

It's not like you were dating, why should he care if he hurt your feelings? I mean, seriously, y/n. He practically told you to fuck off.

You probably weren't his type anyways.

You pulled a chair up to the widow and gazed out at the moon.

You felt weak and stupid. I mean, he's literally never even showed signs of interests.

What were you expecting?

It's better that he told you straight up. Yeah. If you think about it, anyone else would lead you on in some sort of twisted kindness.

I mean, yeah, he waited a few months to do it, but he did it. Plus, who's to say he didn't figure out the day he told you. Maybe he thought you were just being nice to him at first.

"You know, Y/n, if you keep skipping classes, you'll end up like my good for nothing brother."

Your eyes shot to the door, red eyes meeting yours.

Should you jump out the window?

No. You're too high up.

"Can't you take a hint?" You stood, your chair dragging against the floor as you did.

Why couldn't you be the vampire?! He was blocking your one and only exit, and you couldn't even jump out the window!

"I think I was too harsh that day." He began walking towards you, and you cursed yourself for getting excited at this.

Despite your attitude, you really wanted him to be sorry. You wanted more than for him to apologize, you wanted him to realize he liked you. No matter how unrealistic your fantasy was, you so desperately wanted it to be true.

"You think??"

You started backing up, and he began to inch near you, grabbing your wrist before you could even genuinely consider jumping.

"You're not really going to jump out of the window because of me, are you?"

"Yes, I am." You pettily turned your head to the side.

Damn, you really hated him that much?

"C'mon, Y/n. Don't be so dramatic."

"Dramatic!?"

All the feelings previously were coming back and you just wanted to cry.

"You're a real asshole, you know that."

That's when he leaned forward, engulfing you within his arms.

You were going to faint.

He really wasn't trying to be a piece of shit. He was just not good with expressing himself.

It's not like he was trying to be insensitive, but he had hoped if you were going to jump out the window, it wouldn't be out of spite. Not that he wanted you to jump out the window. Fuck! See? He can't even express himself in his head, how could he to you?

"I'm truly sorry, Y/n. I regretted what I said as soon as I saw the look in your eyes. You know what they say, you don't truly realize what you've lost until it's gone. It seems I underestimated your importance to me. I was annoyed by my good for nothing brother that day, and I took it out on you. I dearly regret it, too. Please, forgive me."

Now this, this was unexpected.

"I-..." You really didn't want to be that person. You didn't want to forgive him that easily. You still remember the pain, your chest tightening. It felt like your heart was constricting.

You pushed his arms off and jumped away, looking back at him, his red eyes meeting yours.

His mouth fell open, the most emotion you'd ever seen him display to anyone.

"What did you expect? Did you think you could just come here, sweep me off my feet, give me some lame ass excuse for treating me terribly, as if you were ever nice to me, and expect me to forgive you? I'm just some bothersome woman who's feelings you don't know why you're sparing. I'm not going to be some product of your pity. You very obviously didn't want me not even a week ago, why the sudden change of heart? Just leave me alone. You know better than anyone how annoying it is to have someone continuously pester you after you've so obviously shown your distaste for their presence."

Your stomach hurt, your eyes burned, and your throat throbbed. The worst part was the way everything in you was screaming to forgive him, but being the stubborn person you were, you couldn't.

"You don't truly mean that, do you?" He took a step forward, eyes locked on yours.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, refused to say anything.

Each step he took forward, you took back until you were sandwiched between the wall and the person you least, yet most, wanted to be in this situation with.

He slammed his hand on the wall beside you, preventing your exit. "I suggest you calm yourself, Y/n. If your heart rate quickens at this rate, you may... well you get what I'm saying."

You let out a small squeak, more in fear than anything else. "Mind your ears, it's none of your bus-siness. Also, m-move your arm so I can leave." Fuck. Why are you stuttering Y/n!?

He leaned down, his hot breathe on your ear. "I can help you calm your nerves-" His right hand moved to rest on the small of your back. "If you would like."

You shuddered.

"But you have to ask." He smirked.

"H-Huh?..."

"Hah. You're so quick to forgive me now, even though I knew you were dying to earlier. What? You just want me for my body?" He teased, his mouth falling upon your neck, marking it.

"I- No! I h-haven't even forgiven you yet!" You protested.

"You haven't? Well then I should stop." He pulled away from you, turning to walk away.

It was now or never Y/n.

"W-wait a minute!" You called out, reaching out to him.

He turned to you, hiding his smirk as he did.

"Why, what is it?" He chuckled under his breath.

"Y-I I forgive you," You looked down at the floor, the tiles glowing with the reflection of the moon, nearly full, though not quite.

"You do? Thank you." He then turned again, beginning to walk away once more.

"Wait. Where are you going?" You called out.

"To class, where else?"

You blinked once. Then twice.

Did you read the situation wrong?

No way, what else was he trying to do?

"W-what about..? I..."

He smirked at you.

"Y/n, while I may be a vampire, I cannot read minds."

"Well... it's just... earlier you..." Your face lit ablaze, heat spreading across your cheeks.

"Earlier I?... He took a step towards you.

"You- you know..." You trailed off, hoping he'd get what you were trying to say.

"I seem to have forgotten, please, enlighten me."

"Well... y-you said you would help me calm my nerves..."

"Mhm..?"

"Might you... try to once more..?"

He let out a dry chuckle at this. You were so shy.

He caged you onto the wall once more, his breath on your ear once more.

"How do you suppose I do that?"

His hand was back on your waist, but this time he slid it underneath the fabric of your shirt. He licked at the shell of your ear, causing a surprised sound to leave your throat.

"Well... Like this, I would think."

He looked up at you, red eyes upon your e/c ones. Then, he pulled away once more, a smirk adorning his features.

"I don't really know what you mean by, 'this.'"

Grabbing his hand, you pulled him towards you.

You grabbed his tie, pulling him down to you, "You're teasing..."

He chuckled.

"If you'd answer me, mayb-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, your lips were on his.

Though he had nothing to compare it to, he was pretty sure you were a terrible kisser.

He could teach you, though.

"Mmm.."

Pulling away, he leaned in, whispering in your ear, "Quite sloppy, even for your first time."

Your face flushed.

"As if you could do any better."

He smirked, leaning in, his lips ghosting over yours.

"I think I can prove you wrong"

His glasses knocked against your face, causing it to scrunch when he leaned in.

You both laughed for a second, before your lips met once more.

With Reiji leading the kiss, it was 10x better. He seemed so skilled, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was actually experienced or just good at everything.

"So pretty."

He pulled away, beginning to trail kisses down your neck.

His hand trailed beneath your shirt, groping you beneath it.

You gasped, your hands curling in fists at your sides.

Were you seriously about to do this in an empty classroom at school? What if somebody walks in..?

Reiji let out a dry chuckle, his forehead meeting yours.

(FOREHEAD TOUCHES R SO INTIMATE I MIGHT CRIE)

"Nervous, yes? I won't do anything you don't want me to. Except bite you, of course." He added playfully.

(IDC WHAT U SAY IT'S CANON FOR REIJI TO BE SARCASTIC AND MAKE BAD JOKES.)

You reached your hand into the nape of his neck, grasping his hair there.

He groaned when you did this, which was definitely not your intention, but also definitely hot.

"You're not doing anything I don't want. It's just..." You glanced at the door.

"Oh? You want to be watched, don't you?" He smirked.

"I- No! Definitely not! W-Why would I-" He was teasing you again, wasn't he?

His lips met yours again, his cold hands meeting the skin beneath your shirt. He helped you out of it before removing your bra to stare down at your breasts.

Before you could cover them, his hands were on them, squeezing and pinching.

Your hand fell upon his wrists, tightly gripping them.

"R-Reiji-san," Your face felt hot, you felt hot in general. You rubbed your legs together ever so slightly in hopes he wouldn't notice.

You couldn't help yourself.

"Impatient, aren't we?" He chuckled before shoving his knee in between your legs.

"I tend to you so patiently with no worry of myself, yet you're ungrateful. That's fine. I'll just tend to one of my needs to make up for it."

"Eh!? I- No- I'm not- Ouch!"

Large gulps were taken from your neck, your knees slightly weakening. You honestly expected him to bite you, so you weren't quite mad. Just surprised.

Your hands fell from his wrists, one reaching into his hair, a strong hold placed there, and the other clenching into a fist at your side.

Pulling away, he smirked down at you.

"My my, how erotic."

The sight was quite pleasing to his eyes at least, your neck dripping blood down your shirtless torso.

He was really having the most difficult time holding himself back.

He sighed, reaching behind himself for a chair and pulling it forward. He sat down, reaching his arms behind your back and pulling you onto his lap.

"W-wait! Reiji-san! I'm too heav-" You choked on your words at the sight of his erection straining against his pants.

Reiji reached his hand into your hair, grabbing a handful at your scalp and puling your head back.

He began kissing and (softly) biting your neck, marking it as much as much as he could and licking up the blood dripping from your wound.

You let out a little gasp, grinding down onto his growing erection.

He sighed, releasing his grip on your scalp.

Sliding his hand beneath the edge of your panties, Reiji helped you remove them leaving you in just your skirt.

The fact that he hadn't removed any clothing made you feel even more exposed.

He grinned and ran his hand up your slit, teasing you.

He shoved two fingers against your entrance, his fingers disappearing within you.

"Ah... Reiji.." You gripped onto his shoulder harshly.

"Beautiful.." He sighed and began thrusting his fingers, your liquids dripping down his hand.

You clenched down on his fingers.

"Mmm... I don't think I can hold back anymore.."

His fingers pulled back, a lewd sound emitting from your heat.

He groaned at this, unfastening his belt and unzipping his pants.

He lined himself up with your entrance, an arm wrapped around your back, reaching around to the other side to grip your waist.

Pushing inside you, he let out a huff of air.

"Fffuck, don't clench so hard." He breathed out, his hand squeezing your waist tightly.

You clenched harder at the sound of his voice causing his grip on you to tighten, definitely leaving bruises.

"I-I-I can't. Not when you sound like th-at!" You squeaked out, falling against his chest to bury your face into the space between his shoulder and neck.

He smirked at this, thrusting up into you harshly.

"Oh~? You like it when I talk to you?"

Reiji held onto your hips, directing your movements. He had more length than girth, but still managed to stuff you full.

He leaned into your ear, "You like being fucked in the classroom, huh? Like that anyone can walk it at any moment? You want them to, don't you?" Reiji watched his cock as it disappeared within your cunt, pulling out all the way, only to be slammed back in.

You shook your head, tears wetting his neck at the intensity as you clenched and unclenched on him.

He chuckled, "Look at you, getting excited just at the thought."

You wanted to deny it because, really, you didn't want to be watched, but all you could do was let out muffled moans into his neck.

Grasping onto your hair, Reiji pulled your head away from his neck, your neck bared to him and moans unmuffled.

"Fuck, look at you. Such a whore for my cock. Bet you've been daydreaming about this, huh? Been thinking about this everyday? Trying to seduce me by throwing yourself at me?"

His thrusts increased in speed as he leaned forward to lick up your neck to your mouth, which he sloppily kissed.

His hand dropped from your hair to your heat, his thumb and index finger pinching at your most sensitive spot, causing lewd moans to leave your throat, increasing in pitch.

He lifted you up, laying you back on one of the lab tables, the temperature causing goose bumps to rise on your skin.

He pushed your right leg up to your chest, relentlessly thrusting into your cunt, enjoying the squelching sounds being produced.

"Mmm, I'm gonna cum. Spill it all in your tight little cunt. Fill you up with my seed. Mark you as mine. You'd like that, wouldn't you." Reiji reached his thumb down to your small bud once more, rubbing in slow, tight circles.

Your breathing became unsteady, arms curling around his back to pull him close to you and moans growing louder once more.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm gonna cum!" Tears welled in your eyes, you back arching off the table and your toes curling.

Your cunt spasmed on his cock, your vision going dark for a second as the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced racked through your body.

Reiji let out a groan before spilling his load inside you, riding out your orgasms.

Your arms fell limp to your side, exhausted.

"I must say Y/n, you're far more risky than I had expected." He let out a little huff, helping you sit up on the desk.

He fixed his pants before helping you get dressed.

Reiji grabbed your hand, and in the blink of an eye, you guys were in his room.

"H-huh..?" Could they teleport or something? And why his room? Didn't he just pity fuck you or something?

"Uhm... should I... leave?" You stared down at his feet as you questioned him knowing the answer was probably rejection.

"Well... If you'd like. I don't want to force you or anything. Though, I was sort of hoping you would stay."

"St-stay...?"

This was requested on my Wattpad.

[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

[anne-i-write]

moriarty the patriot headcannons

| requested by anon: “uhhh kinda weird lmao but how would the moriarty bros react to an s/o from the future? (Headcanons) thanks! OwO” |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader

word count: 1355

tw: a few swears, if i’m missing any please let me know!

a/n: i’m so sorry that these are coming out so slow please enjoy!

william: 317 words

please

as soon as you wake up he’ll be staring at you intently

“where am i?”

“durham, england, 1880… and in my room”

it takes you like ten minutes to process everything that’s going on because: “i’m dreaming right??? or did i actually shift???

after finally accepting the fact you indeed did not shift and are not dreaming, you finally looked at the man who had stayed silent during your incoherent ramblings

“you seem more awake now, is it alright if i ask a few questions?”

hhh he’s such a gentleman

you both honestly take this whole time shift thing really well

louis definitely walks in on you two and he’s like,,

“who tf are you and how did you get in”

sdjkfhd pls its so funny when you guys converse

his speaking manner is so refined and yours is just,, yours

but he loves it

he thinks its cute

he comes up with a story for you because there were people who were no doubt going to question how you came into his life

and from there you two hit it off really well

accidentally said you two were to be wed during a conversation and the nobles went insane

when you are on the carriage ride back from the party he apologizes for saying something so out of line

“i wouldn’t mind being married to you, william.”

this man always has something to say but THIS

YOU

he wanted to respond with something witty but you just,, existed and made him melt

“let’s go buy a ring tomorrow then.”

asks you questions about the future

only trivial things, never if his plan works in the long term

but judging by the way you talk about your previous life he can tell that everyone is somewhat equal, except for “the dumbass politicians” you speak about

oh did i mention he picks up your swears too LMAO

louis: 459 words

 he’s heading back to his room when you come OUT of his room

“who tf are you, how did you get into this house, and why are you here”

instant kill mode

you think you’re dreaming so you’re like,, ok cool and you tell him most of your life story and he’s like

??????

has never been more dumbfounded in his life

who is this person and what are they wearing and why are they telling me their life story

eventually the rest of the moriarty team gets involved and matters are settled lmao

you all agree that staying in the manor is the best course of action at the moment

louis thinks you’re taking this a little too well so he’s still a little sus of you

like seriously,, the future?? cmon now

the people you’re working for probably made those weird clothes for you

but anyways

you’re helping him clean the house and cook

“this is fun,,, but honestly?? if i have to do this by myself everyday i would cry”

you keep saying this and you know it’s getting annoying for louis but he ISNT TALKING

if you can’t beat em, annoy em

finally gives in

“how did you used to wash clothes in the future?”

and you get this big smile on your face and you start TALKING

you’re so excited that he finally spoke to you

even tho you know you lowkey annoyed him

but you’re talking and louis is like,, huh

you’re talkative, but not annoying at all

you have little stories that make him laugh sometimes

needless to say you both get closer

but it isn’t until one night louis is making rounds around the manor that he passes by your room and hears crying

so he’s worried and he goes into your room

bruh you try pulling that shit where you wipe away your tears and be like “oh i’m okay!”

like,, no u aren’t

louis makes you spill what’s bothering you

“my friends, my family… are they okay? are they looking for me?? they must be so worried”

note that you’ve already been at the moriarty estate for about two months without any word that you can return to your own time

and louis holds you

he teaches you more about the year that you’re currently stuck in and he tries to take your mind off of the bad things

asks william to buy more books to indulge you bc you have some book withdrawals bc “WHAT DO YOU MEAN A TALE FOR THE TIME BEING HASNT BEEN PRINTED YET” followed by a short crying session

he’s a really good boyfriend

you taught him what a boyfriend was and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much society’s view on relationships changed

albert: 579 words

is walking down the streets at night when he sees you barreling down the road in your clothes

you look pretty scathed when you run right into him

“are you alright?”

you’re scared and out of breath but he’s wearing what you can only assume is a uniform of england

he takes you to his place and tries to calm you down

he asks you questions and you tell him everything straight out

you know you look crazy but you couldn’t bring yourself to care

you were just walking back from a friend’s place IN BROAD DAYLIGHT and you felt dizzy and you woke up alone in a dark alleyway

“where are you from?”

you obviously give him your city but he corrects himself

“what year are you from?”

“2019”

doesn’t want to believe you bc you’re all frantic and maybe insane

but your clothes just seem to different for him to brush off the possibility

tells you to sleep it off and gives you his bed

he’s already writing a letter to his brothers that he’s possibly coming back with someone

“ohoho brother albert has a suitor now?”

anyways, albert asks you more questions about your other life as you’re both on the train to durham

albert went out to buy you more fitting clothes before leaving and you couldn’t even repay him

but he tries to get you in a comfortable position so you don’t spiral again

but he’s genuinely nice about it when he finally accepts the fact that you are in fact from the future

funny enough, you both don’t get each others names until you get onto the train

“oh, my name is albert james moriarty”

and you’re briefly like “oh like sherlock’s nemesis” but then you remember that this is only the victorian era

sherlock holmes doesn’t exist, it’s just a coincidence

so you both get to the manor and he introduces you to the moriarty team and this is where you’re like,,

oh my God

this is real and i know the ending

you suddenly want to travel back further in time and never meet them bc they’re all really sweet towards you

and you got attached to them more than you should have

albert notices you’re a little tense so he makes small conversation to get your mind off of things

“i do like to play the piano”

bro

they have a piano delivered to the house to make you feel more comfortable and hopefully keep you occupied

itching and nostalgic (ironic), you play songs from rachmaninoff and joe hisaishi, despite it being from the future

everyone knows chopin so shhh

“that’s beautiful, did you compose that?”

“no, but another composer did, i don’t even think he exists yet”

you’re very adamant on keeping things the same

like,, no i’m not going to tell you how to create a washing machine because i don’t want to mess up the timeline if i do go back to the future

you do get very sad occasionally because you are homesick and being placed in a world where you have only heard stories of is very disorienting

but albert and the boys make up for it

albert always tries to be by your side and if he can get his hands on a piano sheet he’ll buy one for you and see if you already know it

it’s always nice to have them around, but you know the troubles you’ll eventually have to face

moriarty the patriot taglist: @zoehanji

[liannelara-dracula]

🥀😭 for Uta

Hi Love,

I will be including both.

-Jade

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Prompt

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How they make her cry + their reaction to doing it + comfort

Kaneki:

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It isn’t so much that you fight, or anything, it’s what he gets himself into. I mean he hardly yells anyways. But of course, it leads to you two, to fighting. And you know it’s serious when he’s mad. Now although it takes a while for him to grow upset being in a relationship with him still means you two will fight. I don’t think it’s what he says that hurts the most when you two argue but more or so his actions. When he’s mad at you or disagrees with you he will without saying anything, and he’ll be bitter about the whole thing. He also gives you the silent treatment.

“I didn’t bother to stick around if this is how you want us to be.” You’d say kinda annoyed.

He’d turn to look upset by your statement. “I never asked you to stick around, Y/n. You made the choice yourself. But you’re not being hundred percent honest with me so why should I?”

This made you upset for sure, “You know exactly why! And I know that I know that it was my decision to stay and it’s also my decision whether I choose to tell you about how I feel.” You’d raise your voice just a bit.

“So it’s just when it’s convenient for you?!” He’d arch a brow being ticked by such a response.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” You’d shake your head, angry.

“Then what?! What can’t you tell me?!”

Seeing he was yelling now, it made you react the same, “A lot of things--because there is so much I swore to tell no one! I—I can’t just open my heart up to you like some—little girl! Ken, we’re in a world where we’re at odds!” You’d explain, waving your hands around.

“If it weren’t for that stupid doctor, we wouldn’t have even collided and I wish that was the case right now!” He’d say clenching his jaw a little.

“What are you saying?” You’d ask, not liking where this fight was going.

“I’m saying I’m not in the mood for this back and forth with you anymore, Y/n!” He’d exclaim, looking extremely stressed.

You’d look at him with your eyes watery, “So that’s it, you’re just walking away?!”

“Yeah! Cause we don’t work!” He’d yell now shattering the brick walls you put up when you wanted to cry.

A tear slid down your cheek, “Leave then!”

Knowing he made you sad is a little surprising to him since you two hardly ever fight and so I don’t think he sees you cry, especially over a fight. But when he did he felt horrible tbh. I don’t think he likes seeing you mad but seeing you cry is another level like he crumbles.

He comforts you by bringing you flowers and by apologizing at your door.

Hide:

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Now you two don’t fight, it hardly happens. But I think it happens more often than Kaneki because Hide doesn’t always take things seriously so you can get upset when he just isn’t listening and understanding how he made you upset.

“Chasing after this investigation could get you killed.” You’d frown.

He’d shake his head disagreeing, “I’ve done this before, besides I won’t get caught.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” You’d place your hand over his, worrying over him.

“It’s fine, besides I know what to do.” He’d say brushing you off.

“Then at least let me help you.”

“Babe, I’m fine.” He’d shake his head not wanting you to be involved.

This was surely the last straw for you before you spoke up, “You’re getting too involved!”

“Don’t be a drama queen.” He’d tease not taking you seriously.

You’d cross your arms, “Hide, I’m serious!”

“Babe-“

“No—there’s a limit to being involved.”

He’d raise his voice now, “Kaneki’s my friend and I’m not giving up on him!”

“You’re going to get killed because of this!” You’d argue.

“Stop getting in the way of it!”

“You’d really go on the line for that!?”

He’d grow annoyed by your selfishness, “What choice do I have?! It’s not like you care or understand!”

“Hide, we can talk about this!” You’d approach him not wanting to fight.

“There’s nothing to talk about!”

“There is plenty to talk about, you are obsessed with figuring this out when it’s basically impossible. A-and you don’t even listen to me! Y-you can’t even see what’s right in front of you right now because you’re so damn blind!” Now you were mad and not getting into a fight would seem impossible.

“Blind?! You’re the one telling me to give up on my friend!”

“I’m not telling you to give up. I just want you to be smart about things and realize you’re only human! You can’t help him like you think you can!”

“You wouldn’t understand!” He’d insist.

“Hide, you’re too upset to think straight--don’t go in this blindly! You could get hurt trying to save him!”

He’d be taking back by your focus and get angry, “Is that all you care about? What about what I want?”

“Maybe so! Because at this point Kaneki is a lost cause!”

“You’re selfish, Y/n. All you care about is yourself.” Though this was true in this moment you were tired of him telling you he’d stay with you when he’d risk his life. It was a tiring cycle you couldn’t continue.

“Selfish? Okay, and I suppose now you’re going to tell me I’m overreacting just like I always do right?” You’re eyes clouded with tears as you were about to explode from this.

“Y/n--”

You’d wipe the tears that slid down your cheeks, “N-no, you k-know what I--I don’t have to h-hear this. Besides, you just keep making b-broken promises to me . . . I mean it’s clear as day I don’t matter to you. I c-can’t believe I thought otherwise.”

He doesn’t believe he had this effect on you and knowing he did he hated how he wasn’t keeping his promises. And he seemed to feel guilty even if your request was a little selfish he understood why you felt the way he did. Hide needed to shape up of you mattered or he needed to let you go because you were becoming his last thought. How he’d make it up to you is by spending time with you and little you help him and he’d listen to you a little more.

Ayato:

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Gosh, he doesn’t have the best personality so fighting can happen between you two. Maybe a lot even. Now you two are polar opposites which leads you two to argue and disagree and it makes you want to change his mind. And let’s just say you’ve been trying to change him for the better but it is just making him mad. Overall you’ve been in his space in a way because you want to come to agreeing and making him a better person.

“Ayato.” You’d say walking faster to catch up behind him.

He was beyond upset and he kept ignoring you as he walked faster.

“Ayato, please. . .” He’d turn to you as you’d finally caught up to him and touched his arm.

“Talk to me.” You’d whisper, not wanting to fight.

He’d look away walking off again, “Tch, leave it Y/n.”

“Ayato, quit being so stubborn!” You’d stop, balling your hands into fists.

“I said enough, Y/n! . . .Just quit it with all this crap!”

“There is nothing wrong with caring or being good to someone.”

“Maybe you’re forgetting something Y/n I’m a ghoul—a monster! Kindness is weakness!”

“You are not a monster! Because if that is the case I am not different! And you are not a m-monster—yes we’re ghouls and we can’t change that! But I don’t want you to hold grudges and be angry at the world and your father Ayato! I don’t want to see you like that—love doesn’t make you weak.”

“Don’t you dare bring my father up!”

“Ayato—“

“He was a weakling I will never forgive and I’m a monster because I am a ghoul! If you think I’m just going to deal with things how you want, then too bad.”

“All I’m asking is that you try! But you never once listen to me, do you?! Hatred is that the only thing you’ve ever come to known?! . . .Ayato, if there’s one thing I know it’s that love is not a weakness our relationship is—“

“This relationship is bullshit Y/n! You’re mending it without me in it. You just change everything and expect me to follow because what? You want me to be a good man!? Well, I’m not and I never will be!”

“If you really think that t-then you s-should’ve just said so.” You’d say coldly a few tears running down your cheeks.

He’d seemed regretful, “Y/n.”

“Don’t, please. Just leave!”

Ayato knew girls typically cry but seeing you cry after what he said shattered him, he was touched and he hated himself in that moment. He’d make it up to you after coming back one night he wouldn’t say anything but you knew he wanted to apologize and he ends up staying with you and just through time you start to talk because he is being kind to you. It’s just small things.

Yomo:

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He’s quiet, so getting into a fight with him? Yikes! This is bad but also really important.

“I can take care of myself, Yomo. I don’t need you to protect me. I can handle myself just fine.”

“You and I both know you can’t.”

“I can. I’m sick of you always looking after me. I’m your girlfriend, not a child.”

“Y/n, I know that but it’s better this way.”

“Ren, I’m fine.”

“Y/n please.”

“What? Why do you always make up the rules?”

“Because it isn’t safe!”

There was a moment of silence between you both.

“I—I didn’t. I don’t want you to end up like my sister did, okay?!”

“I’m not her! You can’t be so set on the past.”

“Y/n I’m not risking this again!”

“Ren-”

“It’s dangerous!”

“Everywhere we go is dangerous! There is no place for us! And you just want to keep me in the dark?!”

“I’m trying to protect you!”

“I don’t want to be protected! I want us to have a life, a relationship!”

“Y/n—we”

“Why do you do this to yourself? You push yourself over the edge for me and you make it so hard to love when it’s not!”

“Y/n-“

“No. . . No i-it shouldn’t be this hard.” You’d say a tear running down your cheek.

He’d wipe your tears away and would be mad at the situation. He wanted to make you happy and safe and instead, he made you cry.

Uta:

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You two bicker but that’s fun and games. What’s not fun is seeing Uta’s true colors and being in a problematic relationship that functions on nothing but a rollercoaster of emotions. And most of the fights are always about him lying and hurt you in some way. He may care for you but somehow you two are always fighting for your love and it honestly feels like it may kill you one day. He’s put you through hell when you guys argue and it’s the worst.

You whimper a little as you continued to sob as you stepped out from his mask shop.

“Y/n.” You ignored him and continued to walk off.

“Just leave me alone Uta.” You’d say sniffling as tears continued to pour.

“Y/n, listen to me.” He said grabbing your wrist.

“Stay away from me!” You’d scream.

“Damn it Y/n, just listen to me!” He’d shout making you gasp as more tears fell from your lashes.

“What?! What can you say that would change a-any of this!?”

“I didn’t do this to hurt you!”

“Y-you lied!. . . “ You shook your head, tears falling down your lashes.

Taking a breath you continued, “You lied about the c-clowns, y-you’re a part of!—-y-you lead the clowns!” You hiccup feeling betrayed.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you!”

Your eyes red and filled with more tears, “Y-you’ve been lying to me this w-whole time.”

“It was to protect you!” He argued.

“Uta--You k-killed those people, for no reason—for what, a show? To make s-some grand entrance!?” You stammered wiping the tears that kept falling.

“I’m a ghoul, Y/n! . . . And so are you. That’s my life! I make bad decisions all the time because I don’t care! So why is it so important for you to keep me in check?!” He exclaimed, angry at the way you tried to see the good in him.

“I know what we are . . . but sometimes I wish you didn’t always have to act like one! Just because we’re monsters by nature doesn’t mean we have to live by that.” You’d yell turning away from him only to sob more.

“Maybe that’s what you wanna do, but someone like me can’t.”

“You don’t have to be this way--no one told you to be. How is this relationship supposed to stand if I’m going in one direction and you’re going in the opposite?! Don’t you care at all?! About yourself? About me? About anything?” You looked at him with widened eyes as you couldn’t believe him.

“I don’t care what you think of me anymore, Y/n.” He turned walking away from you knowing you two were too different and can’t work this out.

He hated seeing you this way. Uta didn’t want you to cry or be sad—he never wanted to hurt you and he did. After some time, he would probably make it up to you because he reflected and he changed and you decided you could give him another chance.

Furuta:

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Ladies, I’m gonna come clean and just say it, he’s abusive. Seriously, watch yourself. Like I don’t see his relationship as something good, it’s always toxic. Now, this fight was probably just general about jealousy. He was possessive and he didn’t like it if you had a male friend let’s just say.

“Furuta, what’s wrong?” You frown touching his shoulder seeing he was upset and ignored you.

“You were talking to him.” He stated still ignoring you.

“So?” You questioned.

“Which means you weren’t being faithful to me.” He pointed out.

This hurt to hear. “Faithful, Furuta I’ve been more than faithful. I care about you.”

“Prove it to me.” He stated bitterly.

“P-prove it, but Furuta I have already done that. Besides, I just know the guy but I don’t like him or anything.” You clarified.

He turned away to fix something on the desk. “That’s not what he feels.”

“But that doesn’t matter. I only like you.” You say approaching him.

He turned to you, his eyes and cold. “You say that, but it doesn’t appear that way. You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Then why did you let him touch you!?” He glared.

“He didn’t many anything by it he just brush his hand against me!”

“How many more times are you going to lie to me Y/n?!” Furuta only seem to get even more upset.

“Furuta please, I’m not lying.” You backed a few inches away from him.

He continued cornering you. “What is he to you huh?! What am I to you!”

“He’s nothing, you’re my boyfriend!”

Titling his had he asked, “Am I really, it doesn’t seem that way to me?”

“Please Furuta, I don’t wanna hurt you and I never would.” You shake your head your eyes widening.

“That’s bullshit!” He seethed, grabbing a fist full of your hair.

“Ahh! Stop please!---A-ahh please!” You screamed, tears brimming your eyes at the pain you felt.

He inched closer to your face yelling and demanding for an anwser, “Tell me the truth, are you or were you ever sleeping with him?!”

He continued to tug on your hair making you lose balance and crouch down crying, “Ahh--Furuta please! You’re hurting me!”

“Tell me!” He demanded.

You shook your head, “No! No! I never did! The only person I like---I want is y-you, please!”

“Please stop, stop this right n-now. P-please I’m begging you.” You continued.

“Oh you poor thing.” He cooed, his grip loosens a bit seeing you cry.

“S-stop. P-please make it s-stop.” You sobbed into your frail hands.

He crouched down to your level, his expression changing as he’d comfort you. “Shhhh, don’t cry angel I’m not mad at you.”

It was madness and he made you confused in this toxic relationship. “But you said—“

“Shhh, everything is fine. You’re okay, you don’t have to cry.” He frowns bringing you into his embrace as if to cradle you from the thing which made you cry.

���Please. . . l-let me g-go, F-Furuta. ”

“Shhh, why don’t you fall asleep sweetheart?” He rocks you back and forth trying to making you calm down.

“No P-p-please.” You shook your head crying, not wanting to do this any longer.

Overall, you probably didn’t end up talking to him. But if you did you’d just be stuck in some toxic relationship.

Takizawa (ghoul):

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You two don’t fight much because you try to let things go. But then too much tension builds up and then you both explode. Your fights are always serious and they hurt a lot and they both are emotionally driven. He may be crying in the moment or after because he doesn’t want to hurt you—he Ioves you.

“Hey you know we can talk about whatever’s on your mind.” He says sitting next to you on the bed.

“It’s okay Taki, I’m fine.” You say getting up as he did the same.

“Y/n, why do you push me away?”

“Taki, I don’t want to talk about this right now, please.” You raise your hands feeling a little annoyed.

“Y/n. Please just tell me—if it’s something I did.”

“I said I was fine.” You sounded bitter but couldn't help yourself.

“Y/n-”

“No.”

“Why can’t you ever let something be about you?”

“Why do you care!?” You turned to him now growing upset.

“Because you’re so much better than what you believe! You taught me that yourself and yet you don’t see that!” It's true you made him not be as brash as he was--you were his anchor.

“People like you are not me, Taki that’s the difference! I’m not like you or others! There’s too much that I can’t—-I don’t even—-I’m a mess that can’t be fixed which means you should be with someone who’s pretty and not some used up girl!” You shout.

“Y/n you have so much more than that.” He disagreed shaking his head, he seemed hurt knowing you didn't value yourself.

“There’s nothing here for me anymore! Stop saying that I can change or you can change me. Stop saying I matter or value to you! I’m not worth it!”

“Why can’t you believe anything I say?! Is it that hard to take a compliment?!” He yelled.

“Because no man is ever sincere! The only compliments I’ve ever had are about my body! How do you think that feels?!—To be s-sexualized?! To people, I have no p-personality, I’m just . . . an object that guys think they can use. I’m a c-chewed-up piece of gum and so when I hear from your mouth, the words, ‘you’re pretty or ‘you’re b-beautiful’ a-all I can think about i-is h-how I’m n-not.” You shake your head, tears falling down.

“Others may think that but I don’t, Y/n I love you.” He confessed.

“No, no you don’t—-Y-you’re just confused.” You shook your head wiping your tears.

“Damn it y/n! You just never want to believe you’re good enough! You matter to me okay! I value you! And I couldn’t imagine not meeting you! You were the only girl who bothered with me—why are you this hard on yourself?!”

“Because I’m not what you need! And I can’t love--I’ve never--I don’t. I can’t. I don’t love, I don’t let people in--because I’m so afraid that one d-day you’ll disappear or that y-you’ll leave because everyone I love gets hurt. And I d-don’t what that to h-happen.”

“Y/n-”

“No-no I c-can’t.” You wave your hands in front of him still crying.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” He comforted bringing you in an embrace.

You accept his hug and look up at him, “Everything feels like my fault and I just, everything--Everything is because of m-me!”

He'd say stroking your hair and making you relax. “No, no, that’s not true, Y/n.” He’d say embracing you. His hug was the best thing you probably haven’t felt in forever.

He never wanted to hurt anyone and most certainly not make you cry. He felt horrible and couldn’t live with himself seeing you that way.