#// angst time ✨

[sherrymagic]

No one talked about [my death]. Like I never existed. My parents passed away when I was a kid. I got no relatives. And in no time, others will forget about the old Joe.

Poom Phuripan as JOE in Episode 4 MY STAND-IN (2024)

[kittenninja14]

I literally cried when i read this chap... i had to take off my headphones and bluelight glasses and plop down on my bed to comprehend what I just read....

DDUDE!!! THAT CHAPPPP!!!! AUGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! I WAS ON MY BED STRUGGLING TO COMPREHEND WHAT I HAD JUST READ!!! MY EMOTIONS WERE ALL OVER THE PLACEEEE!! KNOX!!! DUDEEE UR TRAUMATIZING MEEE!!!!!!!

Anyways *ahem* the expression I imagine that was on Kai's face was one of a kicked puppy loll. Bc after all that Knox has put the poor fire boy thru.... Kai is most def a kicked puppy.... :')

ANyways, y'all!! Go and check out @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off's fic Wobbly Hearts AU !!! IT"S EPICCCC!!! <3333333

https://kittenninja14.tumblr.com/post/731916269075480576/hey-yall-i-just-found-this-incredible-video-and

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

how i’m looking at @applysome rn after she only went and surprise gifted me the most wonderful milex fic just to cheer me up 🥺

[whereismyhat5678]

@gongustheawsome01

I said I was gonna do it. I said I was gonna do it. I said I was-😵‍💫😵‍💫⏱️⏱️

Wait- oh what happened?…Why was I- OH LORD-

How did this depressed looking Gustavo get in my-

….

(Tw:….Self….harm..? Yeah that’s self harm, he’s pulling his hair out)

Evil Peppino REALLY fucked him up….

Evil Peppino when I catch you 🧍‍♀️🔪

[wasabi-gumdrop]

.

[azurechicken]

Nathaniel not being romanceable in Awakening means nothing to me (or to my Cousland for that matter). It doesn't mean he isn't romanceable at all. Awakening is just the beginning. It's the mutual pinning, the slow burn, the i met my childhood friend and now they are my enemy? They are learning. Learning to live with the tragedy of their families and their intertwined fate. Also learning about each other after such a long time spent apart. And they are casually ending darkspawn after darkspawn while doing so. Shamelessly ogling each other despite the gore. Honorable nobles to unhinged Wardens saving the world from the Blight. Childhood friends to brief enemies to unapologetically flirting colleagues. They will get together, but the narrative will end before they do.

[moonlight-prose]

father don't antagonize daughter challenge failed.

[chocosvt]

thinking of honey boy compared to her makes me laff 😭 i can't reread honey boy anymore bc at the time i had already proofread it enough to act it out on stage lmao, but sometimes i trace scenes back just to see if i can still enjoy it. which i do!!!

but in terms of my writing, honey boy is like a little toy block while her is this massive play structure 🥹 but i think that just comes from the differences in plot. honey boy is not rly supposed to be a super deep narrative, it's more romancey and fun and flirty and sometimes it gets a little messy but it's easy mess. so i think it's more digestable!

but her is not like that. it's just too nuanced. the characters are soo layered in comparison. and it's depressing 😭 you rly have to work to reach the payoff/catharsis and to me, that's what hits the nail on the head. like i absolutely need the suffering, the angst, the turmoil, the tension, the horrible fallout, the bitter acceptance, having to live with your choice, and the slow rekindling. and by that point you're so freaking desperate u could cry 😍 those b1tches touched hands! win.

IDK. is this a confession that i like being emotionally edged? 😭 ejriwuhfgeurghwg honey boy is my blog's magnum opus and i understand why :3 but it's like.. damn... her is not the same. i think if i were a reader/outsider to my work, honey boy is effortless to revisit. but i would have to be in a certain mood to engage with her just bc of the emotional baggage 🤔 or pushed to the edge of having a breakdown and this story is my safety cushion wuefhwiquf

[whenthegoldrays]

ALSO a trope/dynamic I’ve discovered I love is angst caused by feeling an incredible inexplicable closeness to someone that comes from the fact that you’re secretly related and they’re dying to tell you but that would spoil the “mission”

[bylrndgm]

GOOD OMENS (2019 - ) 2.06 - Every Day 1.06 - The Very Last Day of the Rest of Their Lives

[moonchild-in-blue]

Sometimes all you need is a good ol' coffee shop au tbh.

[witch-sweets]

I think I'm the only person who headcanons that the prince died before reaching adulthood so let me share some info on that:

He died at 16

He did NOT take his death well whatsoever at first (dying before even finishing school is pretty lame)

Being surrounded by dead people and the ghosts of your future subjects is not good on a literal teenagers mental health

The first time he Killed a person it was on accident and he pretended it was on purpose ("it's not a big deal I killed him he deserved it")

Slowly just became desensitized/indifferent to murder (being surrounded by dead people will do that to ya)

"I reject humanity I wanna be a cryptid"

Awful coping mechanism acquired (consuming the souls of the innocent)

Depressed ghost Prince evolves into emo noodle

"I am no longer emotionally damaged whatsoever" (a lie)

Notices that outsiders have started to refer to him as "the soul Snatcher of Subcon" and steals The Snatcher as his name (Prince is not a very edgy INTIMIDATING name)

Edgy SPOOKY vibes

" I am going to kill everyone"

So in conclusion...

My version of Snatcher is an edgy teen who died 1000's of years ago that decided murder was a good coping skill and went downhill from there

(also nobody knows he died THAT young and just assumes he was an adult)

(only Hat Kid knows)

(nobody knows definitely no one knows)

[soleilnomoon]

hi i would like to order a honey lemon drop with frozen yogurt for nanami. and ftm he/him pronouns if possible

so sorry for the long, long, long wait omg 😭 so ty for being patient💛, but i finished and i really like how it turned out (i hope u do too 😊) anyway i think this is my first nanami fic, so naturally i love that you wanted angst

1.9k words, ftm reader (he/him), sfw (surprise surprise), 18+ mdni, angst city all dayyy, no real warnings except that reader is a little bit of a coward (but i, too, would be unable to confess to nanami ok i understand), feat. one bed trope, forced proximity, nanami being capt. of the delulu squad (as usual), i think that's it! maybe.

“how can i not love you violently when / all i have ever known is / violence in the name of love?” — fatima aamer bilal

on a rainy thursday night, you find yourself in a second-rate motel room with one nanami kento. the situation you’ve found yourself in is less than ideal, but it’s too late to travel back home now — the distance alone puts both of you at risk, especially since you sustained an injury on your mission.

you wince as you canvas the room — a habit you’ve yet to break since childhood — and when you find that it’s safe enough, you relax a bit. but even with a soft exhale, you find yourself holding onto your side with your hand, a strained expression etched carelessly onto your soft features. you tell yourself that it’s not a big deal, that you can take whatever pain comes your way. it works to distract you quite a bit, until you remember that you’re not occupying this space alone.

nanami kento thinks you’re an idiot — possibly a bigger one than gojo satoru, although that’s debatable depending on the time of day. his reasoning is simple. only an idiot would leave themselves wide open during a fight; only an idiot would push their superior out of harm’s way without any regard for their own life; and only an idiot would wave off an injury like that and pretend that they’re fine when they’re clearly not.

but, most importantly, only an idiot with a heart much too pure for this line of work, would consider the life of someone like him worth saving.

nanami clenches his jaw for what feels like the hundredth time that day, his nerves frayed despite the nonchalance he insists on presenting to you. the room is tinier than he expected, but he doesn’t have the option of being picky right now. he shrugs off his jacket and neatly drapes it on the back of a nearby chair before running a hand down his face.

you groan a little louder than you mean to as you try to find a comfortable position while sitting on the bed, which only furthers his frustration with you.

when nanami caught you just as you fell over, he thought he’d lost another partner — although, is partner the right word in his instance? he’s not so sure now. the thought of you losing your life when you have so much more to live for, forces a different kind of fear to settle heavily in his stomach.

humans — both sorcerers and non-sorcerers — are fragile, much more prone to crumbling under the strength of supernatural entities. nanami’s wondered for a while if this line of work is suitable for someone like you. someone who, despite him telling you to save yourself first, has a blatant disregard for their own well-being, even in the face of danger.

it's absolutely infuriating to him. he was being careless, which is wholly unlike him. maybe it’s because his focus shifted slightly, where he watched you a little more closely than he should have — to ensure your safety, of course — and by the time he realized, you’d already taken the hit for him.

foolish. very, very foolish.

you watch nanami carefully, biting down on your bottom lip, wondering if he’s going to lecture you to death over your actions. he was silent during the car ride and hasn’t said much since you arrived at the motel — so you’re nervous, and why wouldn’t you be? you’re sure he doesn’t hate you, but sometimes you wonder; you always mess up in front of him, and no matter what you do you can’t seem to keep it together.

if only you could channel some courage to tell him that it’s alright, that you didn’t mind getting hurt, that you just wanted to make sure he was okay. you know that he’s much more adept at fighting, his own physical prowess out ranks yours significantly, but he’s always given you credit for your determination and insistence on trying over and over again. you assume that his silence is his attempt at keeping his anger at bay — and you’re partially right, it is.

but not for the reasons you think.

nanami hasn’t gotten the hang of properly expressing himself, because you also make him nervous — and it annoys him greatly. he recognizes it as some sort of affection for you on his part, but since he’s so good at denying himself — of the things he really wants, of anything that might bring him a sliver of happiness — it took months for him to piece together his feelings.

maybe it’s because your own feelings for him overwhelm you constantly; they make it difficult for you to keep eye contact for longer than a few seconds, makes it damn near impossible for you to be near him without feeling like you’re out of your element. you don’t entertain those outlandish daydreams anymore — the intimate ones, where he sees you as something more than a colleague — but from time to time, the compulsion hits you.

you happen to glance down at your shirt and realize you’re bleeding through it, so you unbutton it without thinking, careful to not agitate your wound. nanami’s frown deepens; he reminds himself to never be that careless again. and although he sighs that signature sigh of his, he grabs the first aid kit and walks over to the bed.

“let me clean that,” he says quietly, placing the supplies on the bed next to you before rolling up his sleeves.

the sight of his forearms is enough to send you into cardiac arrest. thankfully, you somehow manage to survive the ordeal — although your heart feels like it’s beating faster than it should, you’re surprised nanami doesn’t hear it.

swallowing hard, you try and stop him. “n-no, that’s fine. i don’t need your help.” you continue rambling and stumbling over your words, face burning from embarrassment. he grabs a chair and sits in front of you, barely paying attention to your protests. your voice is comforting — dulcet tones, soft and unsure, but very much you; it helps to take the tension away from him, and he suddenly starts to feel himself relax a bit.

when you impulsively grab his wrist to stop him, he fixes you with a stern look, effectively snuffing out any rebelliousness on your end.

it’s not that he thinks you’re incapable of cleaning it yourself, it’s that he knows you’re still in pain, and it will be more efficient if he does it himself. his excuse is that he’s gotten quite good at patching himself up over the years, and he somehow rationalizes that it makes the most sense for him to be the one to help you with this.

you let go of his wrist and try not to move, instead finding yourself watching nanami up close. heat beat slowing, yet somehow still a thunderous sound in your ears, you try to remain calm despite his close proximity. a heat radiates off your body — one he certainly feels but ignores for the sake of his own sanity. acting on emotions, on physical impulses, on outlandish dreams — those are things nanami simply cannot do.

or, rather, that he shouldn’t do.

nanami is classically handsome, with sharp features, an elegant nose, and long, fair lashes. you think you’re being inconspicuous as you watch him, committing his face to memory, so that you can think back on this exact moment later and anguish over unsaid words and actions you were too cowardly to take. you’re not exactly as subtle as you think you are, so nanami catches you fairly quickly. not that you realize any of that, you’re still trying to piece together your courage as nanami’s fingers graze your skin softly.

he moves with precision, albeit much slower than he normally does; he’s not sure if it’s an inherent selfishness on his part, but this is the only form of intimacy he’ll allow himself to have with you — as he knows the likelihood of you both living a full, enriching life is slim. still, he cleans your wound much faster than you’d like, the tips of his lithe fingers lingering dangerously close as he runs them along the bandage.

that touch alone causes you to sit up straight, breathe in sharply through your nose and grit your teeth together; it’s an attempt at grounding yourself, despite the goosebumps that crop up along your arms. still, you feel… full, somehow — and hopeful. your heart also feels too big for your chest now, almost as if there’s some sort of possibility of this being something more than a daydream.

nanami goes to wash his hands, although he looks over his shoulder at you to tell you, in that low, gravelly voice of his, that you can take the bed while he takes the armchair.

“that’s ridiculous,” you blurt out without warning, “we can share the bed, it’s not that small.”

there are so many reasons why he should not get in that bed with you, but none of them come to mind now; he wants to protest, though, very badly — but there you are, looking so fragile and seemingly angelic, that he acquiesces right away. you try not to let nerves get the best of you, as you didn’t think nanami would really agree to the demand. and by the time you both settle on the bed, nanami does his best to keep a respectful distance from you.

on a whim, because the lights are off, the rain soothes you in a way that easily invites fatigue to claim you right away, you shift closer to him. nanami stiffens immediately, not understanding why you keep insisting on trying his patience like that but relaxes eventually. he won’t admit it, but he likes that you’re completely vulnerable with him.

your eyelids grow heavy, making it impossible to stay awake, and you start mumbling as you drift off to sleep. holding his breath and keeping still, nanami strains his ears to hear you — almost like he knows that if he doesn’t, he’ll miss out on something very important.

the courage you’ve been desperately seeking comes unexpectedly, and of course it would happen while you’re delirious with exhaustion. you talk sometimes in your sleep; normally, no one is around to hear it, but tonight, nanami will be subjected to the one confession you thought you’d never be brave enough to say out loud.

you say, “i’m a little bit in love with you,” so quietly that nanami thinks he imagined it. he closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath, telling his mind to settle, before looking at you again. your words will haunt him for eternity, mostly because you didn’t mean to say them to him — not now, anyway — and he understands that.

but—

what is he supposed to do now that he knows? it complicates things even more for him, and as someone who hates unnecessary complications, he now has to reconsider his approach with you. still, he doesn’t get off the bed, doesn’t move away from you; instead, nanami traces the shape of your lips with his finger — slowly and with purpose. he doesn’t know what compels him to do that, except that he just wanted to. when your lips part, he pulls his hand back, nerves barely keeping together. he closes his eyes again and prays that sleep finds him soon; at this rate, he’ll end up telling you how he feels too, and he can’t possibly have that happen. not now, not ever.

[remember-ur-alive]

CHAT I MISS MY S^W YA0I

[fluffypotatey]

FLUFFY WHEN I GET YOU- how dare you suggest that the third time ShadowPeach tries to hold hands (and maybe even succeeds) IS WHEN. WUKONG IS DYING. FLUFFY WHEN I GET YOU-

HEY I GOT THAT IDEA FROM AN ANON

so, uh…. ok well, that’s my only defense 👉👈 🥺 but like you can see it too, can’t you?

[spoopy-nevermore-dump]

(going off the theory that Lenore gave Annabel the flower ring)

What if Lenore broke Annabel's flower ring?

Haha jk jk.....unless