#Is so wangsty

[chuluoyi]

everything, but not anything

- gojo satoru x reader

you were his last remainder of the happiest blue spring in his life, until your untimely demise. and on the death's door, he finally found you again.

genre/warnings: angsty wangsty, consolation towards the end

notes: i said i can't create gojo fics without feeling depressed, so here i present to you, angst. it's inspired from a thread in twitter i read about how gojo was given everything but he couldn't do anything and my heart just incredibly hurts and―this happened. it's unedited because the idea popped into my mind at 1 in the morning

i wrote this while listening to this wonderful song. consider it the theme song for this piece. i highly recommend you to read this and listen to it!

[update] sequel -> found you

general masterlist

You were so pretty. So really pretty, in fact. And he likes pretty things. Perhaps that was what spurred him to spontaneously ask you out.

You declined him at first―after all, he was a special grade weirdo. And you half-expected him to give up soon enough, only that he didn't. He persisted like a cockroach, smothering you with his very being. Then like a sweet romance novel, you too finally fell for him, melting at his clumsy attempts to woo you.

And by God, you were happy together. To Satoru, it was the brightest, most vibrant page in his life. And with his very being, he would do everything he could to protect you. After all, he was blessed with the best, he had all means to protect you.

He should've known better.

It started with his failed star plasma vessel mission. Riko was dead, and at that time he was just numb. Later, he made excuses. He couldn't have foreseen that a sorcerer killer would join the fray and made a mess of things.

But then his best friend, Suguru, left. Satoru couldn't make excuses any longer. For that, he was wholly responsible. From then, he realized that just being strong wasn't enough. And throughout those dark days, you were with him, consoling him as you brought his head to your chest, letting him sleep in your arms.

"Don't ever leave me, okay?" he whispered at the dead of the night with hoarse voice. It made your heart sting. You nodded and ran your fingers throughout his hair, mumbling a soft "of course."

And you never did. You were always by his side.

Satoru was really grateful for that. To have the last years of your life by his side. Looking back, it was like a beautiful mirage.

He had hidden himself behind the facade of the strongest. The unreachable. Untouchable. It felt nice, still is. Before he had known it, he had drawn this line between himself and other people. Between him and you. He wasn't lonely, but he was at the very same time.

And perhaps he had gotten way too arrogant, and thus the heavens decided to humble him.

He couldn't prevent the Shibuya Incident from happening. Worse, he fell into the enemy's hand and got sealed, and just before he was trapped inside that accursed box, he saw you die. And even after the most excruciating 19 days of his life afterwards, he couldn't do anything about it.

Your face haunted him. The tears you shed for him still lingered at the tips of his fingertips. The blood from your mouth still soaked his vision.

"Satoru..." you croaked. You were afraid. Afraid of dying, but most of all, afraid of leaving him. You had promised him once, on the bunkbed of your dorms back in Jujutsu High, that you wouldn't leave him. Tears wouldn't stop falling from your beautiful eyes.

Satoru burned that image on his mind. He wanted to hate himself with every fiber of his being, but then you said the most damnable thing possible.

"Thank you... for everything..."

And you had a smile on your face. In your last moments, you decided to convey how much he meant to you in this life. How much you cherished him. You prayed with all your heart that it would reach him.

And once again, just like the first day he saw you at the training grounds of Jujutsu High, Satoru found you to be really breathtaking. You were beautiful even as you laid dying. Even as his visions were obscured as he fell into the darkness.

Inside the prison realm where time passed long and uncertain, he made himself numb once again.

You were his most cherished figment of the most precious memory held in his heart―the three years of his youth. He wouldn't have changed anything about it. He was devastated, severely so, but so did the sweetness aftertaste he felt.

Your feelings reached him, and because of that, even if the road ahead was long and hard and painful, he would stay on that road.

If it meant he could meet you again on the other side of this dream... he'd stay and move towards tomorrow, no matter how bleak it was.

When his comrades freed him from the prison realm, he gained knowledge that most people he knew were also dead during his absence. Nanami. Yaga. The students.

Perhaps it was his curse. To be blessed with everything, but not being able to do anything about it.

He had nothing more to lose when he fought against Sukuna. He gave it his all. Everything his life had led him to―he put it all on the line.

And suddenly―suddenly, he was back to the happiest chapter of his youth. Everyone was there. Suguru was there. Nanami, Haibara, even Riko.

And you.

On the other side of that dream, you were once again standing before him, in your old uniform, just like when you’d get ready for a class so many years ago, and with the smile he fell in love with. The smile he would gladly fight the world for.

"Satoru," you called, breathless, but just like before you left him the first time, you frowned and your eyes suddenly glistened with tears. "Why... are you here? How did you―"

But you choked back your tears when he ran to you and pulled you into his arms so tightly. You heard him grunt, and then to your surprise, slightly sob.

Now he is no longer Gojo Satoru, the strongest. He is back to a young sorcerer wanting so badly to live his youth to the fullest, happiest.

"You lied to me," he reprimanded you amidst his weeping. "You left. You freaking left―"

Your vision blurred. "I'm sorry..."

Satoru let you go to have a good look at you. You were no longer bleeding. Your insides were intact. Just a little crying because you couldn't help it.

"I love you, you know that right?" he blurted with the most sullen expression he could muster. He turned back into the child-boy you somehow fell in love with.

"Satoru," you breathed out, anxious. "You shouldn't be here―"

"I should," he cut you with a firm tone. "I have no regrets. I have done what I can, and now―"

"But the others―they need you! They need you, Satoru."

He drooped his head. He had thought it over too, but he had come to a final conclusion. "No. They don't."

Maybe it was finally the time to let go of it. It was time to just... pass it over. No more interventions. No more tipping the balance of the world itself.

Immediately, you understand what he means. Gojo Satoru has served his purpose. There was nothing left that he must and could do.

"You waited long, huh?" you whispered with tears, yet a smile bloomed on your face.

"I did."

"Then... now that you're here," you offered your hand towards him, and then looked at the faces of your friends. They were all beaming at you and him, waiting for this exact moment.

You stared at him fondly, lovingly.

"Would you... walk this road with me once again?"

Satoru snapped his head. He nodded at you with pure certainty, zero hesitation. "Yes."

He took your hand, grasping it tightly in his.

"Even when there's a possibility that you have to walk to the other side of a nightmare again?”

"I would," Satoru resolutely replied.

Because it's you, he would. He'd willingly and gladly cross the throes of hell and set out on this lonely yet hopeful journey, just to meet you.

You chuckled at him heartily, and Satoru felt the immense love he held for you as the two of you walked towards tomorrow, without regrets.

It may be his curse, to have everything yet nothing at the same time. But each time he would be faced with this decision, he'd remember that feeling and let go of everything just for this very chance to live a life with you again.

[ryntaia]

Wake Up Call (Unfinished Comic)

Ha ha it's wangsty not-quite-siblings hour

I was going to finish this but I realized this morning that I somehow critically fucked up the layering and I don't care anymore lmao. Certainly does not help that this is a follow up to a comic idea that I never even made in the first place aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa--maybe I'll draw it someday. tl;dr is that Dan is (of course) living with Vlad, Dani found out and it hurts her feelings a lot, and Dan basically told her that she lives there now but also fuck off he doesn't care.

He absolutely does care.

tl;dr more Dani and Dan shit.

Due to my absolute inability to draw comics in a sane and normal format, you'll probably have to open these in a new window to actually read them.

I am so invested in this sibling dynamic that has no basis in absolutely anything at all I am so normal guys.

Is there one of those dippy ass platonical tags names for these two a la Cheese Melt, like I dunno, Clone and Kin? Clonefolk? I was never good at this shit

[gay-wh0re-slut]

reader has a date and rhea is her roommate, they've both had feelings for a while and just didn't know how to say it so rhea decides to keep her from going (little angsty, very smutty)

yall have the best ideas!!! i love this so much hehehee i wish this was me fr fr!! thank you for the request <3

Stay

rhea x fem!reader

content: smutty smut smut, angsty wangsty, hot sex with hot goth buff australian wrestlerrrrr oooooo (fingering, thigh riding, extremely loose praise and degradation)

“What about this?” you held up yet another outfit.

Rhea was laying in your bed like she’s done multiple times before trying to help you figure out what to wear for your date. She was snuggled up with your big stuffed bear with her head resting on her hand, “I told you the first one looked good.”

“I don’t need good I need hot!” you place it back on the hanger.

She sighed, “And I’ve told you many times before that you can make anything look hot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you push away her comment. “She’s different this time though, we actually talked about stuff and not just small talk. And we’ve facetimed so I know she’s real.”

“Well, that’s good,” she was now looking at her phone.

“It is!” You pull out another shirt, “Okay, so what about this one with those pants?” you point at the pants strewn on the floor.

“That would be cool,” she barely glanced up.

“Rheaaaaaaa,” you whined throwing your arms down.

“Whaaaaaatt?” she finally put her phone down.

“Help,” you held up the shirt again, more forcefully this time, “please! I’ll buy you pizza tomorrow.”

“That looks hot,” her tone seemed a bit annoyed.

“Now, you’re just saying that,” you sat at the foot of your bed throwing the shirt on the floor with the other rejected clothes. “What’s wrong? You usually like helping me.”

“Nothings wrong… Keep going,” she gestured to the closet but she didn’t sound too convincing.

“You’re lying. I can tell because your eyebrow twitches when you lie,” you try mimic the twitch.

“No it doesn’t,” her eyebrow twitched.

“It literally just did!” You pointed, “so what’s wrong?”

“It’s not important,” she fully laid her head down pulling the bear closer to her, “and I’m tired anyway.”

“Booooo,” you shake her leg, “it’s only 5pm and you never sleep.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be tired,” her eyes were closed.

You sighed in response because she was right. She was always right and you loved it. You loved her. She is your roommate, your best friend, and you’re hopelessly in love with her. You went on dates because you knew she would never date you because you were too close. Do the two of you flirt all the time? Yes, but that doesn’t mean she wants to date you. She flirts with Dom all the time, so why is this any different?

You stand and stare at your closet with your arms crossed for a good while before you start to pick up all the clothes on the floor.

“You’re upset,” she finally says.

“No,” you place the hanger on the rack a little too hard.

“…Yes,” she moved to fully sit up on your bed with her feet swinging off the side, teddy bear still in her lap.

You took a deep breath, “I’m not.”

She rolled her eyes, “you are.”

You placed the last hanger on the rack and closed the closet door. You turned around with your hands on your hips, “I’m upset because I can’t figure out what to wear.”

“No, you’re upset because I’m not helping you find an outfit for a date that you don’t actually want to go on,” her voice was timid but also weirdly strong.

“I do,” your heart sank, but only a little, “want to go on the date.”

“What time is the date?”

“Seven,” your turn to roll your eyes.

“And where is it?”

“Downtown at this small restaurant.”

“How are you getting there?” her tone was becoming more stern as the questions went on.

“She’s picking me up.”

“So…” the teddy was now sitting beside her. It looked like it was judging you too, “If you actually wanted to go, you would’ve had this outfit planned last night and you would’ve already taken a shower, and be almost finished with your makeup by now. So no, you don’t want to go,” she leaned back on her hands.

Damn, “It’s casual,” you lie.

“Uh huh,” she crossed her arms, “so why do you want to look hot?”

“Because I…” you were getting nervous. You didn’t want her to be right, again, “I want to. Can I not look hot for a casual date?”

“You’re more than welcome to,” she squints at you, “but that’s not you.”

“Of course that’s me, I always want to look hot!”

“When you want to go. You’re proving my point more and more,” she gestured towards you before crossing her arms again. This time her ankles were crossed too, it was cute you thought.

You squint at her icy blue eyes staring right back at you with a ‘told you so’ look. You didn’t dare look away but your face was turning redder by the second and your heart fluttered the longer this went on.

You finally blink and sigh harshly, “fine. You’re right…again,” as you sit down next to her. “How are you always right?”

“Because I am. And,” she turns herself towards you, “we’ve known each other for too long for me to not know how your brain works.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you swing your feet as your rest your head on the teddy’s head that’s now in your lap.

“I’m serious!” she plays with your hair a bit, “plus I love you so there’s that too.”

“I love you too,” you crack a small smile trying to contain the butterflies in your stomach.

“You can’t ghost her though, so tell her you’re not going,” she hands your phone to you.

“I could,” you take your phone.

“You’re too nice,” she stated confidently.

“You’re right,” you type away on the dating app.

“Again,” she giggles.

A few moments pass of the two of you sitting on your bed staring at nothing. You think of all the things that’s happened and maybe it was for best that you stayed home, maybe you’ll have to courage to talk to her about your feelings finally.

What you didn’t know was that Rhea was planning all along to keep you here the moment you said you had a date. She’s also been wanting to tell you about her feelings for what seems like forever but she was too scared that you wouldn’t reciprocate. Though, tonight, she noticed the chills that formed when she played with your hair and the way you looked at her with hungry eyes when she was laying in your bed. She wanted to tell you so badly, so better late than never she thought.

“(Y/n)?” the way she said your name always made your heart flutter. She didn’t say it often but when she did, it sounded amazing.

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” your heart was beating so fast you thought it would fall out.

She paused taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, “do you…like me?”

“We wouldn’t be roommates if I didn’t,” you joked.

“Right,” she laughed nervously. “But no, I mean… do you- or could you see us being more than friends?” her face was beet red.

You whipped your head to face her not realizing you were squeezing poor teddys neck too hard. “I- uhm…”

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked it was bad timing, I’m sorry,” she began to stand up.

“No, no, stay please,” you grabbed her hand to pull her back down. “I do.”

She slowly sat down with her eyes wide, staring at you, “what?”

“I can see us as more than friends,” you had finally let go of teddy’s neck and carefully placed him next to you not wanting to hurt him more, though it was impossible.

She was at a loss for words, with her mouth slightly open and her eyes flicking from one feature of your face to another trying to figure out if you were telling the truth.

“What?” she said again.

You laugh, then you cup your hands to you mouth to make your voice louder, “I can see us as more than friends!”

She pushed your hands down, “Yeah, I heard you the first time… Are you serious?”

“So serious,” you didn’t move your hands from out from under hers. Touching was different now, it felt like a warm fire that kept the butterflies alive.

“For real?”

“For real.”

“Like legit?”

“Legit,” you roll your eyes, “are you gonna keep asking me if I’m telling the truth in different ways or are you going to do something about it?”

“How long?”

“What?” now you pull your hands out to place them on your hips. You hoped it looked kinda funny since you were sitting down.

“How long have you wanted this?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “a few months.”

“A few months?! I’ve been thinking about this since the second month after we moved in!” she stood pacing in front of you.

“Rhea, that’s almost a year!”

“I know!!” she threw her hands out and let them drop on her thighs.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

She stopped in front of you, “because I was afraid you would say no, or I don’t know, reject me and move out because now I’m the one who has a crush on the roommate and made things weird!” She started pacing again then stopped again, “and you were going on dates!…with other people!” she started again.

You huffed and stood in front of her to stop her, “because I was distracting myself from wanting to be with you because I thought the same thing!”

She was physically taken aback, “so why didn’t you say anything?!” she pushed her pointer finger into your chest. “You’re always the one that loves confrontation.”

“Huh?! I do not,” you flick her finger away.

“Ow,” she rubbed her finger, “you do!”

“Name one time!”

She was silent for two seconds, “when we went to that bar one time and you saw a guy flirting with a girl who clearly didn’t want to be flirted with and you went up to him and threatened to punch him if he didn’t leave her alone.”

You grimaced at her, “Cause I’m a girls girl! We gotta look out for each other, that doesn’t count.”

“It literally does. And if you didn’t punch him I would’ve, but I wouldn’t have said anything first,” she pushed past you to sit on the chair in the corner. She leaned her elbows on her knees, raking her hands through her hair before resting her head on her folded hands.

“Fine.”

“Fine,” she leaned back in the chair, manspreading of course.

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes as you turn away from her hoping that she couldn’t tell that her sitting like that got you hot and bothered.

“Now what?”

“Do you have to-” you flail your hand towards her hoping she would understand.

She did, “what? Like what you see?”

“You’re insufferable,” you turned back away from her.

“Oh come ooonnn,” how she turned this into flirting, you had no clue but it was working, “not like you haven’t thought about.”

“Oh my god, please,” you covered your eyes rubbing them before facing back towards her.

She was curling her fingers over and over to make you join her on the chair, well…on her lap, “C’mon baby,” her voice graveled.

“Don’t,” you put your hand up but that didn’t stop her.

“Afraid of what might happen?” she pouted.

“No,” you tried to hide your smile but it didn’t work very well.

“Then c’mere,” she growled as she patted her thighs before rubbing them.

You huff, “If we start I won’t stop.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” she smirked.

Her dark hair fell on her face just right, her eyes gleamed in the twilight coming from your window, her tongue playing with her teeth in the way that made you crazy. You couldn’t help it, you were in love with her and it took just now for you to fully realize it. She was perfect.

You basically ran towards her, easily jumping onto her lap with your legs straddling her. Your hands cupped around her face and pulled in for a deep kiss. She moaned into you, sending chills down your whole body. Her hands gripped your thighs pulling you in as close as possible. Your lips danced against hers perfectly like they have been doing this for years.

Her hands moved under your shirt feeling every inch of skin on your back. The two of you stayed there for a long while, kissing, exploring, doing whatever was possible in the chair. Soft moans came from the both of you as new areas of skin were discovered.

Suddenly, the strong woman picked you up and gently threw you on the bed. She followed you down, letting her body rest on top of you. Her lips found yours once more, before she started nipping at your ear, “were all those stories true?”

“W-what?” you breathed.

“About your late night dates,” she smirked as she looked down at you with her hands on either side of your ribs.

“That’s so embarrassing,” you look away.

“Well, if they’re true then I know exactly what you…enjoy… but if not, then we’ll figure it out.”

You turn your head back towards her slightly squinting, trying to determine if you should say yes, because they were true so she did actually know every little thing that you enjoyed. Her bright eyes staring into you waiting for an answer while one of her hands played with the hem of your shirt begging to go under.

You cover your face with your hands, “fuck,” you said under your breath as drag them down your face. You couldn’t fathom her doing those things to you, it was surreal. You sigh, “yes, they were.”

She smiled with hunger, “good to know,” and her hand shot its way under your shirt to your breast gently squeezing as she held it, her head bowed back down to your neck swiping her tongue up before biting down.

You whined at her sudden movements, placing your hand of top of hers on your breast as the other flew to her hair, tangling itself in the dark waves. Her legs somehow maneuvered themselves between yours, keeping them spread open. “Anything else?” she whispered.

“Stop stalling and fuck me,” you finally say, “please.”

“Yes ma’am,” and her hand that was on your tit immediately went into your pajama shorts.

She circled your already throbbing clit at a steady pace causing you to arch your back into her with a moan. She continued to kiss and nip at your neck before she lifted her head to look at you, “too early for praise or name calling?” she smirked.

“I thought you knew what I liked,” you fired back between moans.

“Just checking,” she winked.

Her fingers caressed your entrance, begging to go inside, but first, she wanted to gather all the wetness that’s already spilled out of you, “I knew you were a slut but damn.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes but they soon stayed in the back of your head as she easily pushed her way inside of you. “God,” you growled.

She was slowly pumping her hand in and out of you as you gasped for air each time. And each time wound the knot in your stomach tighter and tighter.

“I knew you’d look good under me, and you’re taking me so well,” she finally went back to kissing you after what felt like forever.

You whined into her kiss, gripping her head, shoulders, back, waist, anything to keep you from unraveling so soon. Her pace was ungodly, you couldn’t help but ride her hand as she went.

You tried your best to take her shirt off but she wouldn’t let you, “only if I get to take yours off too,”

You nod your head frantically as she slowly pulls her hand out of you causing you to whine at the loss of sensation. You couldn’t speak as you watched her bring her fingers to her mouth and suck them clean, “holy fuck,” you finally said.

“Mmm,” she took her fingers out and began to take your shirt off, then your pants, then your, basically destroyed, underwear.

You shivered at the cool air as you quickly tried to take hers off too. You threw her shirt to the side without a care, but she had to take her booty shorts off because they were too tight for you to easily take them off in the position you were in.

You both stared in awe at each other for a split second before diving back in. Her hand went back to your clit as yours went to her back, feeling every inch possible. She let her body lay slightly to the side of you to keep allowing her access to your center. She dropped her head to your chest kissing down to your tits, licking and sucking at your nipple before gently rolling it between her teeth.

With moans filling the air, she easily slipped back inside of you, arching your back, “oh fuuuck,” you whine.

“Let it out, princess,” she moaned. Only then did you realize that your leg was between hers and she was grinding against your thigh.

That immediately sent shockwaves through your body sending you closer to the edge than you were ever before. Your hand gripped her ass guiding her as the other wrapped around her waist. She was leaning on her elbow holding your head up just enough to bring you in for a deep but sloppy kiss.

Her moans sounded so good that you couldn’t help but whine in response. With her fingers plunging into you, her grinding on your thigh, the noises she was making, you were surprised you hadn’t cum yet.

“Fuck! You feel so good,” her accent was strong and her breath was hot against your mouth.

Riding her hand, as she rode your thigh was something you never thought would happen, but here you were. The knot was becoming so tight you couldn’t take it, “Shit, Rhe-”

“Go ahead, cum for me, like the whore you are,” she gasped.

“Not until…fuck… you do,” you breathed.

“Then do it, now!” she barked, her jaw clenched as her eyes tried not to roll back.

So you do as you’re told. You whimpered loudly a few more times then, “GOD!…FUUCK!” you screamed as your back arched into her and you nails dug into her back leaving marks as you rode your high.

Almost as soon as you released she followed suit, “OH SSSHHIT!” her thighs suffocated your leg before she continued to ride it as she came down from her high.

You kissed her once more, moaning softly as you both came back to earth. She gently removed her fingers from inside you as she released the grip on your leg. “Shit,” she said again.

“Not bad Ripley,” you joke, “You could do better…”

She shot you a look, and if looks could kill…

“With the pillow talk I mean,” you giggle, “there will be plenty of opportunities to work on it.”

“Good because I’m don’t yet.”

[sir-adamus]

it's amusing and frustrating seeing people complain about how some characters have been presented in Across the Spider-Verse because like

a) it's a multiverse movie, so any complaint of 'X isn't Y in the comics' (eg Hobie isn't English, Ben Reilly isn't a wangsty edgelord, Peter isn't allowed to be 37, Gwen isn't trans, etc) is inane because... this is the alternate universe where they are - your point is meaningless per the very conceit of the movie

b) a major theme of the movie is addressing the people who get unnecessarily angry over things not playing out 1:1 like the original and demanding things be railroaded down the same path every time (specifically targeting the bullshit hostility towards Miles there was at his introduction and declaring him not to be a 'real' Spider-Man - and y'know, being general pieces of shit about it) and showing just how bullshit that reasoning is along with it being creatively stifling

[olderthannetfic]

People who think it’s weird people can just read fic of something they haven’t seen or played the source material from are confusing to me. Do these people ONLY read fic and never books? Books with just a paragraph synopsis? But me reading a fictional story that has a wiki article and some photos is weird? Not everyone needs to have their hand held to use their imagination.

--

I imagine it depends on what kinds of fic you most commonly read.

If you read long, plotty fic where the author is doing a lot of work within that one story, maybe fandom doesn't matter so much. If you're reading PWP for specific kinks, it definitely doesn't matter as much. But short-ish missing scene stuff? Very specific emotional beats that rely on the canon build-up? There's fic that's entirely character stuff and wangsty emotions where you probably do want to know the backstory more closely than a wiki article will provide.

I have a feeling that the same kinds of people who write meta posts about how fic is all about character and not plot are the ones who don't get why you'd read a mystery novel in an unfamiliar canon or anything labeled 'tentacles'.

[lightdancer1]

One of the big reasons I think that it's always a bit of a bad thing to forget the Endless really aren't human:

Is because, and I admit here that this is from the POV of someone who does most, if not quite all, of my fanfics from a Death-centric perspective flip both because Gaiman did Dream well and like prequel Anakin there is only so much man pain and mangst I can take before wanting to reach through the screen and strangle the son of a bitch. Disliking Dream as a wangsty jackass who is the architect of almost all of his own problems does not mean being blind to how dysfunctional the Endless as a whole are.

Yet at the end of the day Dream is not your pantsfeels, he's the in-universe true architect of fear and maker of all nightmares, the guy who casually sends a woman to Hell because she told him no. He is inhuman and fickle and dangerous for any mortals that cross his path.......and as a being of story he is also bound by story-logic to pursue the path that makes the better story at the expense of multiple logical and even emotional reactions.

And in terms of this Dream is not really so different to the rest of the family. Even Destruction, when he walks off, very much remains an Endless and is still Destruction. He doesn't become human, he doesn't give up his powers and he goes into a long rambling set of justifications on that and believing simultaneously that the Endless interfere too much in human affairs and turns his group of friends into a minefield to ensure he stays hidden. Destruction, in short, is a flaming hypocrite at best and should not be taken as the reliable one true truth. None of the Seven Endless are that.

So what does all this have to do with Death? Simple. She will outlive the universe and Death of the Endless will be a title and a moment in time. Unlike any of the others she did outright completely quit and walked out and where Dream's captivity and Destruction's hippie moment didn't cause immediate unraveling of reality as opposed to the realm Death did. She is unlike the other six in ways that would and do contribute to why there's so much talking past each other.

The other six, even Destruction, all see their natures as intertwined with their functions, spheres, and all that go with them. Every hundred years for a day Death gives up all that power and becomes fully, truly mortal. She takes the step none of the others can bring themselves to do, and in spite of being the one that outlives the universe, she has died the most of all her kin and the DCU being what it is probably more than a few of those deaths were not pleasant ones. And this is without the equally logical assumption based on Overture that we only see the Earth mortal day, that there were and are such days on all worlds, in all forms of life.

And as I've brought this up before, too, Death's little apartment is not her realm. The realm is only glimpsed partially once, in her second miniseries and it looks every bit as dark as a realm called 'sunless lands' would. With the exception of Destruction all the other realms are seen in detail and not just a partial glimpse. Death has that detachment from that realm, which is as much a part of her as she of it.

In short, unlike the rest of her siblings I think Death is if anything in the comics the least truly focused on duty and much as I consider the 'none of them came for me' to be a good example of Dream's self-serving hypocrisy as he'd hate and scorn and react violently to anyone that actually did and Gaiman is repeatedly on record as noting that, I see the 'our purpose is our function' line as a bit of self-serving hypocrisy in the interest of cheering up her brother. Death couldn't and doesn't take dealing with her function or being an Endless well. She walked out, she keeps trying to turn herself mortal, she will one day continue to exist but no longer be an Endless.

Thus in the end, there is a great irony here. Dream is too rigidly bound by duty to ever truly entertain the idea that he could leave and figure out how to do so short of dying. Death is too frantically eager to discard her Endless status to figure out why anyone would, given the choice, choose to remain one even if it hurts them.

[dreamcrow]

catfight? :3c

(from this wip meme; thank you for the ask!)

so like. toa. does not do a great job of explaining what familiars actually are, right. are they the human children attached to changelings? (which is...another post.) or are they magical animal mascots like archie? (why is the same word used for such wildly different concepts…? but. again. different post.) this story is about exploring the latter sense, namely: what the fuck are they? what does a familiar do? why do some wizards (for which intend "general magic-user") have them and others don't? are they like daemons? how connected are you? is it permanent, or are some familiars temporary? do all magic-users have familiars, or is the relationship culturally specific? does being a familiar grant some level of intelligence, or is there some poor bastard out there with like. ye standard-issue flatworm of +100 magic?

...you can see why this isn't published yet. orz

anyway, this fic was born out of me trying desperately to make incoherent canon make sense. and also to do something with my thoughts about bellroc and skrael's familiars (who otherwise show up almost never!). also also to give archie some kind of personality. basically, the concept for this fic is:

after [the end of however i decide to fix the ending of wizards]. archie is prowling around in the woods of arcadia. as u do.

he finds something much nastier than he expected (skrael, being a wangsty little shit).

much as i don't know what i think about familiars, i do know i've decided that something about the nature of the relationship means powerful magic-users are simply more predisposed to such relationships.

archie realizes, with abrupt and terrible clarity, exactly what the order's skulls are.

and when fight-or-flight hits: twelve entire pounds of perfect blazing dragon wrath picks fight.

now my skrael's not a complete jackass so he doesn't actually throw down with a cat. but. what i want to do with this fic is 1.) work on a character i've never developed before, and 2.) let them be completely, catastrophically right. >:)

[tablefourtyone]

I love the Nagazora arc and the way it all played out, and how well it worked out for KiaMei at the very end of part 1. In a crack nutshell:

Kewvin: Kiana's part of my Kaslana legacy full of musclebrains that could easily bring back the Leeroy Jenkins meme if they weren't naturally talented at clobbering Honkai dead with a baseball bat. Also cores are bad, you should do something about that, I TOTALLY can't do anything about them, just don't clarify that with your crippled friend and her gundam weeaboo mentor.

Mey: OMG MY POOR KIANA CHAN 😭😭😭

Kerbin: Come join the Dark Side, I have tons of subscribers and Elysia

May: I'll think about it one minute passes I'll do it

Einstein: Wait a second. You're letting your relationship with Kiana define 99% of your existence and agency in the narrative which loves to write you like this for some brainless reason. Wallowing in misery is turning you into a two-dimensional angstlord. Let me help you. I want to save Kiana's life.

Tesla: Me two

Aunty Teri: She has other people in her life plus a family that cares for her safety and wellbeing, in case you and the writers forgot. You're not exactly alone in your grief here.

Bronya: I exist and I also care, and I fought that Kewpie guy with Mr. Welt so I know if he's BSing you about not being able to yank out Kiana's cores himself or not.

Mee: everybody stfu it's my arc and my wangsty opera solo about my skill issues, only me myself and i and what kiana means to me matter, nothing and nobody else matters! nobody understands her better than me, we're endgame herrscher soulmates that can erase everyone if we want to and i'm pretty sure we did in a bad ending but whatever, it's me and her against this cold cruel world that suffers wangsty fools like us, baby!

Kanai: Nope, I've got realistic problems and emotions to deal with atm. G'bye moesenpai sorry not sorry

Meo: chases kiana and fights to the music of codependency

Thunderhead: hey. hey kid. you want edgey battlesuit?

Meh: i tried so haaaaard and come so faaaaar and in the end I had to be a Herrscherrrr

Kania: Meansenpai wai the 180 hostility and violence and resting honkai diva bitchface T_T

RaidenMeiThunderthighs: I'M NOT SAYING BECAUSE GO FUCK YOURSELF. KICKING AND BEATING YOU IN THE FACE AND TELLING THE AUDIENCE THAT I'M DOING IT BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT YOU ISN'T CRINGE. SEE YOU IN SIX MONTHS, STAY PRETTY AND REGRESSIVELY STUPID FOR ME

People who neither play GGZ nor ship them: This fight is horribly written, and caters specifically to the GGZ crowd.

[embodyingchaos]

❥ heart to heart | chapter two

pairing: abner krill x oc genre: best friends to lovers! warnings: angsty wangsty, very short oof, mention of murder word count: 1.9k masterlist: heart to heart last chapter: chapter one next chapter: -

eden yawned as best as she could with the head gear that was somewhat like a scold’s bridle that was placed over her head and mouth. she was very tired from everything she had to deal with over the last week. not only did she get arrested, she had to deal with the press, had barely any time to say goodbye to nellie, wyatt, viola or abner, and to top it all off, she was sent to good ol’ belle reve.

her cell guard opened the door, “you got a few visitors, ‘37.” she said, making eden flinch at the sound of the name. she got up, “can’t you just call me eden, flora?” she asked, muffled. flora pressed her lips together, “you know i can’t do that.” she told her, holding onto her as they walked to the non-contact visits room. when she got there, she turned to the woman. “could you take this off? kinda hard to talk with it on me.” eden said, pointing at the mouth guard. flora sighed and took it off before moving her to sit at the first counter. 

she stretched her mouth muscles before picking up the phone, “hi there, wy.” she greeted with a lazy tone, looking unbothered. “hi, eddie.” he greeted back with the nickname he fashioned for her a long while ago.

“weren’t planning on telling me and nel that you escaped from a lab facility that was experimenting on you and that you killed all the scientists and guards?” eden remained expressionless. “i’m pretty sure you would have called the police, wy.” “no, i wouldn’t have. you’re like a daughter to me, kiddo.” he said, his gaze softening. “it’s not right that they’re keeping you here.” eden sighed heavily, “i killed people, wy. yes, they did horrible, unspeakable things to me, but i killed them, and that’s a crime. the last person alive has to take the blame, and i don’t mind. i’m happy i was able to spend the last ten years with freedom, with you and nellie, and viola. i got to see the stars at least more than once, and that’s enough for me.” wyatt wasn’t one to cry or get too emotional, but seeing her behind the glass accepting her fate and not even trying to defend herself, it hurt him.

he stayed quiet for a bit before speaking up again. “there’s someone else here to see you.” wyatt told her, eden nodded as he left to go get them. the person who came in fidgeted as he took a seat. eden smiled at them as she picked up the phone, “hello, abner.” she greeted, happy to see him.

abner looked horrible. it seemed that her whole situation definitely affected him. his facial hair had grown much more since a week ago, it was much more prominent. the bags and dark circles under his eyes were also very visible, he hadn’t been sleeping. “abner, you look like you just came back to life-” “i miss you.” he cut her off immediately, tears threatening to escape his eyes. eden was trying to lighten the mood with a joke but it didn’t seem like it would work. “i miss you too, abbie.” she said, fiddling with the end of her shirt. abner sniffled, “it’s not fair. those people deserved to die.” eden gave him a small smile. “nobody deserves to die, abner. it’s not my job, or anyone else’s job to decide who gets to live or die. we don’t have the right to do so. i was wrong to do what i did.” she suddenly let out a choked sob, “and i ended up killing everyone, even the other patients, the kids. it was all my fault.��� seeing her crying was something abner was not used to. he had never even seen her cry this much before.

abner didn’t know what to do, or say. he couldn’t even hug her to comfort her since she was behind the glass. then, he thought he should say exactly that. “if i could right now, i-i would hug you, and- and tell you everything is not your fault.” he nervously said, “you’re human, and you lashed out and made a mistake, and that’s okay. those kids are in a better place now thanks to you. they would have been in misery if they stayed in that lab any longer, ed.” eden looked up from her lap and stared at abner through her blurry vision. she wiped the tears from her face.

“i’m sorry i told you i love you, abner. now, you have to deal with me being in here and i’ll probably never be able to hug you ever again.” she apologised, her voice cracking. “i'm such an idiot." "no. you aren't." he adamantly said, determined to get his point across. "i am so happy you told me. it’s not your fault, you didn’t know they’d found you are that they’d been following you for a month now.” he teared up, “i’m going to visit you every day and-” “belle reve doesn’t allow more than three 1-hour visits per week, ab.” eden cut him off and he huffed in frustration, “then, i’ll visit you every gosh darn week! back-to-back with a day break! i’ll visit you on monday, wednesday, friday and repeat!” he shouted, slamming his hand on the table.

abner slid back into his chair, “this isn’t fair.” he whispered, but not to eden, to himself. abner looked back up at her and found her staring at him with her old, empty, black eyes. “life’s never fair.” she simply said, her lips falling into a flat line. in a matter of moments, she was entirely detached and that terrified him. being terrified was nothing new to him though, was it?

as days passed by, eden only spent time in her cell. she had asked for a book or two, and they allowed her to have a few. the most annoying part of being at belle reve was the fact that she constantly got ridiculed for having to wear the scold bridle. even if it did annoy the living shit out of her, she honestly didn’t care, she couldn’t care. plus, she was able to take it off during meal times and when she wanted to brush her teeth so it wasn't so bad. eden had been warned many times that if she even thought about spitting at one of the guards, she’d get tasered and sent to solitary.

as a year passes by, time has never been slower yet faster. eden spent most of her time sleeping or doing chores around the facility. she made a friend, the only problem was that the friend liked rats.

“i still don’t understand why out of all the animals your father could have chosen, he had to choose a rat.” eden mumbled as she played around with her plate of food as she sat opposite of her friend, cleo cazo, also known as ratcatcher 2. “what’s with the judgement, eddie?” “do not call me that, caz.” the older girl warned as she glared at cleo who only gave her a cheeky grin. “sorry.” she was not sorry when she said this. the two of them always spent a lot of time together, mostly because when cleo doesn’t feel like talking to her pet rat, sebastian, she talks to eden. eden usually just endures it, she didn’t like to talk when using her dehumanising muzzle.

after lunch, cleo had decided to go back to her cell early because she wanted to sleep. eden looked around the lunch room until a familiar head of hair stopped her in her tracks. there was no way that was him, right?

she slowly got up from her table and made her way to the man that sat at the table in another corner. he kept his head down, his black hair covering his eyes. there was no doubt about it, this was him. “abner?” eden’s voice was barely above a whisper when she called out his name but somehow he had still heard it. abner’s head snapped up as his eyes glistened from the lighting, “eden…” he said in disbelief, “wh-” eden scrambled to sit opposite of him, “what happened?! why are you here?!” she asked, obviously shocked at the fact he was in belle reve. “you haven't visited me for a whole month. i thought something happened. clearly, i was correct.” abner smiled sadly, nodding.

“i’m sorry. i was going through a hearing, and-and then trial, and there was no time to see you at all.” he rambled before taking a deep breath, “i killed her. i didn’t mean to.” the words were so quiet, eden didn’t pick it up. “and now, she’s everywhere.” she looked at him with perplexity, “what? i didn’t catch that?” abner looked at her with teary eyes, “i killed my mom. i thought she was going to hurt me. i didn’t mean to.” eden’s gaze softens, “it’s okay, abbie. it’s not your fault. your mother was a horrible person for putting you and your siblings through all of the things she did.” she reached out to grab his hand under the table which he easily accepted.

he whimpered, “but now she’s everywhere, everyone looks like her.” eden looked down at the table, “do i look like her to you?” abner stared at her face and her eyes, shaking his head. “you’re the only one who doesn’t.” he confessed, making her grin, “then, i guess you should stick with me, huh?” she nudged his foot with her own and a tiny smile finally took over his lips.

for the next few months, the two hung out around the facility whenever they could. they’d try to get the chores where they would be able to clean at the same time so they’d get to have a conversation or two. on more than two occasions, other prisoners would start picking on or insulting abner. this caused eden to get into more than a few fights, resulting in solitary confinement. 

abner was never one to complain, but he hated the fact that they made her wear a scold bridle. “it’s dehumanising!” eden smiled as she sweeped the floor, “well, they have to take precautions.” she mocked amanda waller’s voice, remembering the exact words she used when eden herself complained about the bridle. the girl didn’t care about it that much, but she did care about how it kept her from being able to kiss him.

they tried their best to keep their relationship on the low. word was getting around that waller had been trying to recruit villains for a task force of some sort. eden knew amanda waller would try to use their relationship to her advantage, and the day she was proven right came quicker than expected.

the crinkling of potato chip bags and the click-clacking of keyboards were the only sounds that filled the room. a woman with long curly hair stood up from her chair and headed over to their chief’s office.

she knocked on the door before turning the handle, “ms. waller?” she asked, “yes, crawley?” waller answered, not looking up from her computer. “i’ve got the files for the prisoners you wanted to recruit.” crawley said as she placed the information on her desk. “all of this includes 037 as well?” waller asked, opening up the first file which consequently was eden’s. “yes, but they called her eresidae in the lab after they’d studied her powers so that’s her name for her file.” crawley explained and was immediately dismissed. “thank you, crawley. you may leave.” waller stared at eden’s headshot before looking back at the computer screen.

there on the screen was eden having a conversation with abner, sitting closely to him. waller knew exactly how to get her on the task force now.

[sukunaes]

Hi here's some ideas for writing

Please write Gabimaru angst it's so easy yet no one has done it yet ok

Gabimaru wanting to get Yui a valentine's present but having no clue what to give her this can be fluff of him struggling and eventually trying to make chestnut rice since I think that's her favorite food

Yuzuriha and Sagiri being gays on a date idk what more you want have some Yuzuriha causing chaos and Sagiri trying to stop that chaos and be a blushy mess when the chaos is at her

and for fluff Nurugai and Shion having a father daughter day maybe go shopping in a town near the mountain or have a festival there

Ok Fluff no more

Angst stuff

Something easy to do is have one of the Aza brothers die in some way and then write the others way of grieving

You can also have a whole flashback thing as the other dies could be fun

Now for simple Gabi angsty wangstys you could do the easy route and have him die before being able to see Yui again

Or

take him to fricken therapy to get therapy FOR THE TORTURE HE HAS EXPERIENCED this Is less angst and more forcing him to talk to someone about it

Have fun writing any one of theese idc

OMG YOU HAVE AMAZING IDEAS !! ONCE I FINISH MY EXAMS I'LL START WRITING ABOUT IT THANK YOUUU 🫶🫶

[cat-soda]

in indigo

every time near brings someone back to life, his own lifespan is cut in half.

Pairings: one-sided meronia, implied mellodramattic

Word count: 1187

Warnings for: angst, hurt/comfort (mostly hurt lbr), major character death

Part 1 [2] [3] [4]

[AO3 Link]

Near hadn‘t let himself think about it, at first. There was still Kira to be dealt with, then reports to put on file, and housekeeping duties that needed to be done before they left Japan. But then, the day before their flight back to England arrived, and Near—

their bodies. He still had to do something about their bodies.

And he considered it. Delaying the move, pushing off the visit until he stopped getting dizzy at the thought of seeing either of them... like that.

But.

Corpses rot.

So he went. Identified them, quietly had Rester make arrangements for them to be sent home, and wondered how cruel it was to bury Mello at the place he’d hated so much. (Then again, maybe it hadn’t been the House he’d hated. Perhaps it’d just been Near.)

He almost doesn’t check the small apartment they’d been renting until Lidner asks him to accompany her. “There’re some things that Mello left behind for you, Near,” she says, soft-voiced. “You should probably take a look.”

Which was how he found himself blinking in the middle of their flat, staring at all the wires snaking all over the floor, the mattress shoved against the far-end wall, the Christmas decorations that they hadn’t even started to put away. Matt’s old GameBoy was charging next to a section of wall where it seemed he and Mello had started a playful argument in sticky notes. He steps forward and sends an old bottle of drugstore nail polish skidding across the room. Remnants of life covered in a fine layer of dust.

“Lidner.” His throat feels tight, and he clears it before trying again. “Lidner, please try not to disturb any of these objects. I’d like to preserve things as they were, as closely as possible.”

“Yessir.”

She hands him a folder, then a laptop. “This is it.” A note on the folder’s front says, For that shithead, Near, and Near studies Mello’s looping handwriting closely before hugging the two items close to his chest.

“Let’s go.”

---

Mihael Keehl.

Near repeats the name to himself over and over again, rolls it over his tongue, tries to imagine how it’d sound leaving Mello’s lips. My name is Mihael.

A pit’s growing in his stomach. He feels as though he’s already having trouble remembering what Mello sounds like. Of course, this isn’t really the case. Near’s memory is impeccable, and he’s especially always had a particular gift when it comes to remembering the specific undertones to one’s speech patterns and mimicking what it is he hears. He wouldn't forget a voice so easily.

Especially not Mello’s.

And yet,

My name is Mihael.

How would he have said it?

(Church bells are ringing in his ears.)

---

It had rained on the day A died.

Or maybe it was during her funeral.

Near couldn’t quite recall which it was. The days from that time had all seemed to melt together into a gray conglomerate of tears and heartache, and for Near, who had been very small, the church bells rang with enough ferocity to shake him to his very core.

Mello wasn’t very nice back then —had never been ‘very nice,’ really— but he’d stood in front of the doorway and blocked out the light as Matt sat besides Near’s curled up form and spoke in soft and gentle tones, helped him unfurl his fists from his hair, slowly, joint by little joint, then held his trembling hands. None of them had been old enough to attend her funeral, but they all knew grief, in their own ways. They’d all heard Beyond’s howling when he found her.

Probably, it’s when she died that the rain started, incessant and cold. It’s logical. What Near remembers in startling clarity, however, is that when B went away, he took the rain with him.

And the church bells came to a stop.

---

“Yo.”

Near blinks.

In the dark of L’s —now his— bedroom, Near was building himself a barrier out of Legos blocks. Its purpose wasn’t so much to keep anyone out, as it was to keep his predecessor’s things out of sight. Old folders and clothing on hangers alongside some knick-knacks the other children had sent L over the years. Near was surprised he kept them— he could even see some of Linda’s most ambitious paintings from when she was young hanging up on the wall. Above a chocolate fountain.

It wasn’t being used at the moment.

After reading the documents that Mello had left him, Near curled up on the floor beside L’s bed, staring at the empty space beneath. ‘The best dresser that died like a dog’... you were always so dramatic, Mello. He had been wondering, though. About what happened to B. About Naomi Misora. About L.

About Mello.

This was his voice, wasn’t it?

Then, Near’s stomach started churning, so he opened a large tub and started snapping Lego blocks together, and this was how Ryuk found him, several hours later.

“Yo,” he says again, like he was worried that Near hadn’t heard him the first time. “Damn, kid, you look like shit.”

“Thank you, Mr Shinigami,” Near replies, “for your astute observation.” Ryuk cackles as he continues putting blocks together. “Was there something you needed? I’m afraid that I’ve already burned the notebooks in Mr Mikami and Mr Aizawa’s possessions, so I can’t return them to you.”

“Nah, that’s not it.” Ryuk does a handstand and wiggles his feet in the air. “I still have mine, so that’s not a problem. And anyways, even if the King does have anything to say about the incident, Armonia Justin owes me a favor.” Without looking over, Near lifts his eyebrows, which Ryuk seems to take as curiosity, as he immediately follows with, “You know what sex is, don’t ya?”

He suddenly wishes that he does not. “Why are you here?”

“Just wondering.” Ryuk cackles again. He goes silent, watching with glowing red eyes as Near, wearing a puppet on each finger, arranges and rearranges painted Lego figures atop the highest points of his barrier. A blonde one stands directly in front of him, looking outwards and standing guard. That one, he doesn’t touch. “Say, kid,” says the shinigami. “Do you miss them?”

Near’s hands pause. He doesn’t answer.

“I was thinking: you don’t really look like you're cut out for this. I mean, look at you. You’re shaking.” The shinigami creeps closer. “But I can help you bring them back. You could bring them all back. If you want it bad enough, that is.” Near’s gaze shifts up from the floor and over to meet his. “What do ya think?”

A finger comes up to curl around white hair. “‘Once dead, humans can never come back to life.’ Is that not what the rules of the Death Note said?”

“Rules, Nate River,” snickers Ryuk, pulling out a white notebook from underneath his belt, “are meant to be broken.” He holds it out to Near, just under his nose. And there, right on the cover, read the words Life Note. “I think it’s about time you learned to be a rule-breaker.”

-----

a/n: *wheeze* i almost posted this onto ao3 without any tags.

i just wanna say whoever came up with the idea of a life note first... i'm going to fight you with my bare hands.

hope you guys enjoyed this fic! title is from deep indigo (although hitchcock is definitely more of a near song)

[chuluoyi]

ngl i love nocturne of twilight so much 🥹 it's just a very good angst train that i'm surprised how much i love it even when i don't like angsty fics that much?? and seeing you answering writing tips, how do you plan your plots? how did you come up with such masterpiece?

thank you for loving nocturne of twilight 🤍 i love writing it too, and the fact you don’t like angst but read it all the same? 😭 it makes me kick my feet in joy sobs :’)

honestly i’m one of those writers who don’t really plot anything much and just go for it— bc no matter how i plot it, the twist always comes to mind right when i’m in the middle of writing it and i have to redo the whole plot again 🥲 and actually my plotting is more like notes about the characters i’m writing rather than the scenes

i still have my notes for nocturne of twilight and it’s as messy as this:

zayne and reader have been married for 2 years -> she’s in love and he considers her dear to him but is still “not in love” that much

reader gets injured and it reminds him of his past lover mc. angry vs angry -> arguments -> resolution

visiting mc’s grave together -> main plot device! reader is conflicted and feels like she loses to mc even when she’s his wife

smut. while drunk. bc zayne is self-righteous he won’t feel what he does is right -> he actually wants to treat her right and feels guilty for using her to drown his sorrows -> “that night is a mistake”

angsty wangsty. reader is angry, keeps her distance. zayne realizes she’s a different woman while with others -> he wants her back

angsty wangsty 2.0 womp womp

happy ending yay

the last two points is bc i have no idea what to write at the time of plotting so i just wrote it like that 😭

[milliekou]

Critics who treat 'adult' as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence. And in childhood and adolescence they are, in moderation, healthy symptoms. Young things ought to want to grow. But to carry on into middle life or even into early manhood this concern about being adult is a mark of really arrested development. When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.

C.S. Lewis

[frogsman]

🧐

[sinemoras09]

My favorite page this chapter XD

[captainkirkk]

When you have ideas for dialogue/detail/individual scenes but no actual plot to tie it together