#THE ANGST!!

[sheikfangirl]

"This is more me. Don't you think, Hero?" 🔥

Shout-out to my ZHS buddy @chihuahuana!! She suggested Puppet Zelda in a Gloom Dess, inspired by THIS 👇 ...i had absolutely no other choice but to draw it 🤣🤷‍♀️

She my Lady and Master. I love her okay! T_T

✋Glory to Puppet Zelda !

[primaphomet]

Got really inspired by @sad-leon 's fic (linked below please go read) and I just HAD to draw a krangified! Leo

The design just goes so hard and the transformation of your brother being a constant reminder of the worst day of your life is such a cool concept!!!

[plush-rabbit]

Adam Dating Headcanons

I love him sm and I hate that it's him!! Why couldn't be like Lucifer or something!!

Angel:

With his status as the “First Man”, Adam can get away with most things. In doing so, he has you with him at all times. Takes you everywhere like a pampered pet. If someone comments about you, he’s hyping you up. He’s telling everyone how you’re just so hot, and you give the best kisses, and how you tempt him constantly. You’re all that he can talk about. It’s him bragging about how great you are, and of course, you're great. He deserves all the finer things that angelhood has to offer. You’re an added bonus. Someone so cute and hot. 

He’s crass with everyone, and you are no exception to this. He’ll throw our swears, and phrases that are demeaning. He’ll use awful pet names that have your ears burning, and s scowl twisting at your lips. A part of you believes that he only continues to call you such things to see your reaction. His crude nature is public for all to see and bear witness to. He has no issue telling others the filthiest things that you two have done, and where you’ve done them. He only slows down when you swat at him, your face burning and hidden into his arm, pulling at the cloth for him to stop. His grin is sharp, and for the few times in his life, he takes pity, and he gives you mercy, letting the words come to a sudden halt, about how only he should be privy to just how perverse you can be. 

There are times where he’s just a jerk. Flat out mean, and cruel towards others and towards you.. It never lasts long, it’s more like it’s just second nature to him to know that he’s above everyone else, so he doesn’t have to play nice with others. He’ll snarl and when an angel clings to his robes with stars in their eyes about meeting him, all he can think about is how he has to be somewhere that isn’t there and they’re dirtying his robes. You’ve been on the receiving end a few times, and everytime you give him a certain look. He isn’t one to say sorry without being nudged into it, but he’ll lift his shoulders as if to hide himself, and he’ll mumble something close to an apology, and when you look away from him, he’ll hold your hand. He didn’t mean to snap at you- he thought you were someone else, and you know how it is. When you do take it personal, he still won’t tell you a proper apology, but he will wrap his arms around you and his mask will nudge itself along the crook of your neck, soft words spoken that won’t be heard for a long while.

It’s rumored around Heaven about the past wives of Adam- how they both fell for Lucifer, how they were Adam’s but they left him. He complains about it, grumbling under his breath about the fallen angel, about Lilith and Eve, and there’s this underlining of hurt in his voice. Everytime that you see him without his robe, he almost always has his side turned away from you, a hand curving just under his chest. And maybe because of the betrayal, he’s so attached to you. He wants you around him. He needs you around him. Far more than he would ever like to admit, he can’t- and he hates to even give it thought- he doesn't think he could stand another betrayal like that. So he’s attached to the hip with you. He’ll call you constantly, he’ll want to go everywhere with you. He just wants to be near you. 

While he may have his moments where he’ll whisper honeyed words to you, or give you bouquets of flowers, Adam expresses himself through touch. When the two of you go out, he’ll hold your hand, and if he can get away with it, he’ll tuck his hand over your bum. He’ll put his arm over your shoulders, letting his fingers graze over your chest, and keep you tucked underneath him. His wings are massive, soft to the touch and blinding in the sun, shimmering with gold and snowy white feathers, and while they can be heavy to hold them against his back, he’ll curve them around you, pulling you close to him when others cannot see. You’re protected underneath the gold, and he adores how you always reach out to touch them, to smooth at any stray feathers that bristle when he surrounds you. He needs to be touching you- he has to. In private, he’ll hold your hand and trace over yours with his claws. He’s never been so gentle with someone, he’s pulled apart sinners and covered himself in blood and gore, he’s vile and cruel, but he holds your hand so tenderly, and for a moment, he’s forgotten he’s Adam, First Man, and at that moment, he’s a man, holding an angel’s hand in his calloused claws.

Sinner:

Adam likes to joke that Extermination Day is the best thing to ever happen to you since it’s what allowed you to meet him. Plus, the added bonus is that now you’re protected and you won’t die. Probably. If you listen to what he says. But even then, he always makes sure to keep an eye out for you- hunting near your hiding spot, shooing away any of the other exterminators. It’s a win all around, really. At first, he’d have the two of you meet at the Heaven Embassy in Hell. However, it proved to be suspicious when other angels would question and even his own lies were starting to fall apart. He could always tell them he needed a break from all the singing and pure-hearted delight in Heaven, but he knows that he would have others follow him, peeking into something personal. So, he’s commissioned a new mask, and he’ll ditch his holy robes for something more Hell-esque to visit you.

You’re aware of his feelings towards demon folk, and walking hand-in-hand with him in the very place where he creates destruction, makes you feel like a traitor. You can tell that he's disgusted by everything- the gore and deaths, the rotten stench of meat coming from the Cannibal District. The rottenness of Hell has acid burning his tongue, but when you pull him towards a vendor on the street, he can hold his tongue. He gets to see you, and that’s enough for him. He holds no power in Hell. He could, and while he’s sure he could handle a few of the Hellborn and Sinners, you would be at risk. So any amount of disrespect has him biting his tongue and keeping you close to him. It’s infuriating to know he has to spend his time locked in your apartment, eating takeout- or on the lucky occasion your home cooked meals- and hiding away with you. He wants to show you off. He wants to be showed off. But, you sit beside him, and tap against his horns with an impish smile as you hold a forkful of food near his lips. 

He may never admit it, but he likes staying indoors with you. For those few hours, where you cook and you nap together, and you kiss him earnestly and with want, he can slip into the illusion that this is his norm. It’s vanilla- so much so that if it were any other time or place, he’d be sick. But, with you by his side, complimenting his mask, the tips of your claws curving over the horns and tracing the outline of his mask, he’ll take it. He’ll tease and snap at you, asking you to beg for him to remove his mask, telling you to ask nicely, and when you coo and press yourself against him, he’s grateful that the mask is still on. Not much can make the First Man flush, but when you act so sweetly, lips pulled into a smile with fangs on display, he thinks it’s one of the better sights that he’s seen in a long while. If he’s in a pleasing mood, he’ll rid himself of the oversized robe, and let his wings expand. He watches your expression- the awe and wonder that they hold, the gasps when you touch his feathers. He’ll stare and memorize the shape of your eyes, and the curve of your lips, as you familiarize yourself with his wings. In those few hours when he’s with you, it’s domestic, and it’s nice. 

When he visits Hell, he never stays for long. It’s visits that last for a few hours, but they never stretch into the night, and when it’s time for Sinners and alike to rise, he’s gone, not a single trace of him left behind. The dishes are put away, his part of the bed tucked in and flatten, it’s as if you dreamed a perverse dream where an angel took interest in a demon. You’ve asked him what excuses he gives to the others, never telling him that you wish he would stay for longer. He tells you that he’s told others he’s doing paperwork, or that he’s going to some orgy party and no one should bother him. When you laugh at that, he stares at you, eyes wide and heart- or whatever it is that he has- skipping a beat. You sleep in your bed, and he pulls you close to him, his eyes on the wall, as you make yourself comfortable on top of the Exterminator. He tells himself that he could miss a day- skip work and spend the day with you here, where the two of you could entangle yourselves with one another, but when brushes over your skin, and he hears the demons talk between the thinned walls of your apartment, he pulls away, and rests his lips over your temple. Leaving you behind in Hell never gets easier, and the more he erases that he existed in your home, the more he hopes that you’ll cry and miss him, and want him.

Unsurprisingly, he’s mean. Perhaps it’s his own personal feelings that he’s had with demon folk for the past number of  millenniums, and how in comparison to that, he’s only just met you, that he still has animosity towards demons. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop with you. He can be cruel, referring to you as a Sinner, and sneering at you, and when you flinch, hurt evident in the way that you back away from him and pull your limbs close to yourself, that he groans. He hadn’t meant it. Not like that- at least not towards you. You have to understand, some demons, some of those sinners, well- and his explanations are always cut short when you scowl at him. He hadn’t meant to be mean to you, he promises. He’ll envelop you in his arms, and pout, asking you to not take it so personally. He’s tense, and he waits with bated breath, and he visibly relaxes when you wrap your arms around him. Adam had never thought himself to care about what a demon may think of him, but in those moments where you sit still and he’s unsure if you’d forgive him or not, his mind is racing. He can’t- It can’t even comprehend what it would feel like to be rejected by you. 

[nireey]

The soft clink of glass against wood echoed in the quietness of the living room. The warm glow of the single lamp cast long shadows over the table, where candles and plates of half-eaten food and bowls were scattered, some nearly empty, others left untouched as if their owners had forgotten about them mid-conversation - a modest spread of homemade delicacies and simple drinks - while the weight of an impending farewell loomed in the air.

The television was on, playing a late night TV comedy show neither of them was paying attention to. It just served as background noise, something to fill the silence between words that felt too big to say out loud.

Juwon sat back into the way too cozy couch, one leg tucked under him, glass between his fingers placed carefully on his left thigh. The colorless liquid inside caught the light as he studied Dongsik from the corner of his eye, who lingered next to him, unusually quiet.

Dongsik sat slouched, his elbows propped on his knees, fingers idly playing with the rim of his own glass.

He wasn’t drunk. Not yet. But there was a looseness in his posture that suggested he was slowly and surely getting there.

“You’re not eating.” Juwon noted with an irritated glance and for a second he questioned his own amazing cooking.

Dongsik looked up from the plate with a forced smile, snatched a piece of delicious, grilled bell pepper from Juwon’s spicy dinner session earlier with chopsticks but didn’t bring it to his mouth. Instead, he glanced toward the flickering candles, following the movements of their mesmerizing orange flames.

For some reason he suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore.

Tomorrow evening.

Juwon swirled the liquid in his glass before tossing it back down his throat.

"Tomorrow evening," he eventually said out loud, more to himself than to Dongsik.

Dongsik only hummed in acknowledgment, eyes still fixated on the flickering candles.

He knew.

Tomorrow evening.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, you know that?” Juwon remarked with a hint of irritation in his voice, setting his glass down with a soft clink.

Dongsik let out a slow breath, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. 

“Since when do you need me to be loud, Juwon-ie?”

It was a pathetic attempt to be funny, to lighten the mood. Both of them knew it wouldn’t work. 

Juwon watched him; the way Dongsik’s fingers curled a little too tightly around the shiny glass, the way he rubbed his 3-days chin stubble with his calloused fingers, the way his lips pressed together just a bit too long before he spoke - meant something was wrong, something was bothering him.

“Are you sure it's okay?”

Dongsik didn't look at him, his eyes back focusing on the flickers. 

"What?"

"Me going to England. Two weeks."

Dongsik chuckled and put his chopsticks down before reaching for the soju bottle even though the alcohol level in his blood had already reached a dangerous threshold. 

For a moment, it seemed as if he might just say something biting, something harsh. He was good at that - deflecting with snark, with sass on point. But not tonight. Tonight, there was something softer in his eyes, something sadder, pulled up and laid out on a silver plate from the bottom of his scarred, healing heart, even if it didn’t reach his mouth.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don’t know. It just feels like..." Juwon hesitated, then shook his head. "You always act like nothing bothers you, but I know you."

"Oh, really? Do you?", Dongsik smirked a tease, the corners of his mouth rising gently while he poured them another round - Juwon first and then himself a second drink.

Juwon exhaled through his nose to suppress a rising streak of annoyance. 

"Cut it. I know when you're pretending."

Dongsik tilted his head, a mischievous gaze flickering towards Juwon's youthful, moisturized face. His beautiful boyfriend was watching him carefully, searching for something. Dongsik had always hated and liked that about Juwon simultaneously - the way he saw too much, the way he never let things slide.

"Juwon-ie. You don't have to explain yourself to me, nor do you need my permission. It’s just two weeks. Come on.", Dongsik answered, lifting his glass, watching the Soju getting mixed and diluted by the melting ice cubes in it. "Not a big deal, really. You'll come back."

"You say that like you don’t care whether I do or not."

How absurd. 

Dongsik let out a short laugh. "What, you think you'll go back to England and suddenly decide you like it there more than here?"

Juwon didn’t answer immediately. He tapped his fingers against the glass, thoughtful. For a moment, his mind seemed miles away, lost in thoughts that were hidden behind his usually composed exterior.

"I lived there for ten years. Sometimes it still feels like home, despite the heavy memories."

There it was - that word. Home.

Dongsik’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear from Juwon’s mouth but it was a fact.

England - a part of Juwon’s past that Dongsik could never quite reach, no matter how hard he tried.

As a kid, Juwon lived in England for almost a decade during the most formative years of a person's life. It was natural for him to feel a connection to it, to embrace the bittersweet recollections and unresolved dreams.

It was normal to want to go back, to reminisce as a now mature and unchained individual, to revisit the places that shaped him.

Of course it was a second home for him; there was no doubt about that. And Dongsik would be the last person in this world that would deny him the sweet feelings of homecoming and nostalgia. 

But still.

Dongsik had spent a lifetime watching beloved people leave - all of them not by choice.

His sister. His parents. His police partner. His foster daughter. His chief who was like a father to him. 

They all had disappeared, one after another, until he was the only one left standing in the ruins. 

And now Juwon - his bright, stubborn, maddening Juwon - was going to a place he once called his second home. A place that might feel more like home than Korea ever had.

Even after all these years, even after everything, he still had this ugly, gnawing fear that history would repeat itself. That Juwon, with his sharp determination, his enticing eyes and caring heart, would one day look at Korea and decide it wasn’t enough.

That he, Lee Dongsik, wasn’t enough.

Abandonment was a wound that ran too deep, that needed time to heal.

It scared him deeply.

Dongsik was afraid.

Juwon saw it in the way he kept refilling his own glass at a concerning pace. 

He saw it in the way his dreamy eyes darted away whenever Juwon looked at him for too long. 

He saw it the way he started to laugh every time he was seized by mental stress, panic and anxiety.

“Sorry, I…I just want to see it again for once. See how it feels now, after, you know, everything.”

Dongsik finally reached once again for the piece of bell pepper that he had abandoned on the plate earlier, chewing it slowly to buy time, to keep himself from saying something he’d regret. 

He’d known this was coming - Juwon had mentioned the trip before about two months ago - but the reality of it settled heavy in his chest now. 

Nonethelss, a fact stayed a fact. England had been Juwon's home for a long time. And he had no right to make demands. 

He loved Juwon. His Juwon. And loving someone also meant to let them live and breathe.

And yet, Dongsik didn’t want to let him go. At this point he was selfish.

What if he went back and realized he’d rather stay?

Get it together. He deserves to live. To be happy. To be free.

What then?

What could he do? Ask him not to go? Tell him to stay because the thought of waking up without him for two weeks felt like hell?

No, that wasn’t how it worked.

"You should go." 

Dongsik nodded into Juwon’s direction, chewing on some vegetables while he spoke, suppressing the pain that was rising in his chest. The fear of being abandoned still clung to him like a second skin, a constant companion.

"You're still young. Enjoy your life. You don’t have to be stuck in this shitty town forever."

Juwon’s brows furrowed with unease. "That’s not what I meant."

Dongsik forced a cheeky grin on his face that camouflaged the rising anxiety inside his heart pretty well. 

"What, you're afraid I'll get lonely? You think I’m gonna cry, cling myself to your leg and beg you to stay?”

Juwon clicked his tongue, looking away with a soft bite on his bottom lip. "I just...I don’t want to leave if you don’t want me to."

I don’t. I don’t want to, Juwon-ie. Please. Stay.

Stay with me...

“Bullshit.”

Dongsik swallowed down the urge to tell him the truth. He wanted to beg. He wanted to cling to him and tell him not to leave. He wanted to cry.

Closing his eyes, he pushed down the wave of panic that was threatening to overwhelm him.

No. This wasn’t about him. He couldn’t ask Juwon to stay out of selfish fear.

It was ridiculous.

“If you don’t want me to go, just say it.”

There it was.

The invitation to be selfish. To beg him to stay. To grip his wrist and tether him to this godforsaken town, to Lee Dongsik’s side, where he belonged.

Instead of taking the invitation, Dongsik reached out, nudged Juwon’s knee with his own, then put a hand gently on his cheek. An encouraging smile full of love was drawn on his slightly charred lips while his eyes glistened with pain in contrast.

"I’ll be fine. Go. Get some fresh air. Take pictures for me. Meet up people. Reconnect. Socialize the hell out of yourself and have fun. You deserve it. Just…don’t forget to come back."

Behind those words, Dongsik’s heart was a storm of quiet desperation. Every syllable he spoke was a whispered plea to his inner self; a self haunted by the terror of abandonment. The thought of Juwon returning to England, perhaps staying there longer than the planned two weeks, unraveled threads of his deepest insecurities.

Juwon’s face didn’t flinch when he heard him. He turned around, drilling his determined glances into Dongsik’s sad eyes. 

“If you really don’t care, then look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t miss me.”

That brat.

Sometimes Dongsik hated him. Affectionately.

He hated him for becoming so perceptive. Hated him for knowing him so well, for seeing through, for challenging him. He hated him because - damn it - Juwon was right. 

It hurt like hell.

Dongsik picked up his drink with a smirk and downed it again in one go. When he set it back down, he finally met Juwon’s demanding gaze with easy confidence, pushing it down. 

“Man, you’re annoying. As if I would miss you.”, he sighed dramatically.

Juwon’s heart skipped a beat and he studied him for a short moment. Then, finally, he smiled - small, knowing, but warm. 

Nothing. Not even a trip overseas could tackle their mutual trust, their affection and nonverbal understanding.

"And you’re an idiot.", Juwon murmured and finally moved closer, settling against Dongsik’s side with practiced ease on the couch, eyes tired from the soju, his head finding its place against a soft chest. The weight of him was familiar, grounding, a warmth Dongsik had never known he could have.

Dongsik huffed out a laugh. "Takes one to know one."

They plopped down deeper into the cozy couch, embracing each other in a moment of solace, the soju between them as the weight of their conversation settled into something softer.

Dongsik laid a lazy arm over a broad pair of strong shoulders, pulling Juwon closer, burying his own face into his hair - and let himself break.

Beads of hot tears suddenly emerged from his eyes and trickled down his flushed cheeks in silence until they dropped down into scented dark locks.

Two weeks. It wasn’t forever.

It was just a visit.

Juwon would come back, right?

He didn’t sniffle or shake, just let the tears fall, one after another, as if crying was as natural as breathing.

Dongsik didn’t beg him to stay, didn’t whisper: 

‘What if you don’t come back? What if I lose you, too?’

Instead, he held his sleepy Juwon closer, breathed him in, and prayed - prayed that, this time, someone he loved would return.

[touchbased]

i have normal people brainrot and now i want a plot where muse a is the golden child in high school, and no one would suspect they’re hooking up with muse b, the outcast… or that there are serious feelings. fast forward to college and the roles are now reversed; muse b is well liked and popular, while muse a has to reckon with the fact that they not only hurt muse a, but also that they’re struggling to adjust to college

[brighteststar707]

The mental image of Jumin opening up his best friend's favorite bottles of wine, knowing they will never share a drink together like they used to made me think of 'With You' from Ghost the musical, and I just had to drop this information into your inbox 😔

I know it's a romantic song BUT IT FITS, and I am NOT OKAY

Post SE Jumin has so much angst potential it's painful

Oooh I had never heard of this song before and when I tell you it BROKE my heart!!!

This is it! It's SE Jumin in a nutshell. I'm thinking about those nights he spends with a glass of wine looking out over the city. They used to be his favourite part of his day, but now he mostly sits there out of habit. A few glasses deep, he reminisces about conversations he and Jihyun shared while sitting in the exact place he's sitting now. He hears his friend's voice, his good-natured laugh as they tease each other back and forth. It haunts him. He's still trying to decide if his perfect memory is a blessing or a curse. Would it hurt less if he could forget the sound? Or would it hurt all the more? As it is, he clings onto every memory, even when it wrecks him from the inside out.

Also, this is a little bit before the SE, but it reminds me of Jumin doing everything he can to make sure the party happens during 707's route. Jihyun will show up, everything can still be explained, everything can still be reversed. Jihyun will give him the opportunity to forgive him. Jumin will, because he always does (except for that very last time). They will laugh about their misunderstandings and Jumin's trust will not have been unfounded. It is his last hope. He needs it. Without it, he is lost.

Not to mention that I think he has and always will associate the RFA parties with Jihyun. They might keep holding them after everything has settled in the SE, and it doesn't matter how many years have passed, Jumin will always be looking for that head of mint hair in the crowd. He will always have to step outside to compose himself when he remembers that it's never going to happen again.

[saricess]

me, wanting to write something wholesome:

also me: lol what if ahsoka killed vader on malachor

[riceball-galore]

(shoulder touch prompt!) [ SHIELD ]: the sender catches hold of the receiver's shoulder and draws them back and away from a threat, pulling them behind them for their safety.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 (𝒜 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓉 𝓛𝒾𝓈𝓉) || 𝙰𝚜𝚔

All she could do was stare at the hollow before her, the deafening roar of its power could be felt deep in her soul. Blood was dripping down her body, a hand gripping the other as it trickled down on her skin and dripped to the floor. Orihime felt real terror running through her, what was she supposed to do?

Her powers weren't working, she was having such a hard time summoning her Shun Shun Rikka, no matter how hard she tried. She thought it, yelled it, touched the pins that held her hair back, anything she could think of summing them. But nothing, no a whisper, not a greet, not even a Tsubaki who would normally yell and force her to concentrate. She was rendered useless, a normal human girl who was at the mercy of a hollow. Please, I don't want to die here!

The hollow started moving towards her, the look of hunger on its face. Orihime felt frozen, her body unable to move as fear cruised through her veins. All she could do was plead, repeating it quickly and with a quiver to her voice. "Hinagiku, Lily, Baigon." A finger stayed on the pins as if hoping the contact would work. "I reject" The hollow got closer. "I reject" As steps backward quickened. But nothing. "I reject! I r-reject! I reject!" Soon she felt like she could feel the breath of the hollows scream, closing her eyes she prepared for the impact. Instead, felt a hand pull her back from her shoulders, a body moved forward and the clink of a sword, feeling the energy of the following push back. Her eyes opened and she saw him, the familiar Shinigami substitute protecting her. He stood between her and the beast now off in front of them, injured as it was losing. All Orihime could do was look up a the boy, tears overflowing in her eyes as she let a hand come to the injury once again.

"K-Kurosaki-kun, you came." And she felt the instant relief of being safe again, her friend showing up at just the right time. She was safe, she would live, thanks to 𝒽𝒾𝓂.

[roseallisonparker]

I am genuinely considering writing a blurb/one-shot inspired by I’m With You by Avril Lavigne because the angst paired with the soulmate trope would be insane, dunno who to write it about though (matt m. I’m looking at you-)

I spot an idea-

[mafiamono]

Im so ready for this messy, spicy show!!!

And slutty Force cause HAVE U SEEN HIM?!?! 🥹🔥🔥

Can't waiiiit!!!

[where-is-vivian]

since i'm deep in my english lit exams, what about wolfstar au with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?

Like Remus is a scientist who discovered how to split his soul in two, like Jekyll, and so he has a dark side deep inside of him despite his original kind nature (morally grey remus yay), and then Sirius who's just a random dude (Mr. Utterson, is that you?) decides to investigates on what's happening lately in the city, and why he has heard all kind of bad things about a mysterious Hyde.

[willowbirds]

Grandpa in Sports Mode!!

[golden-letters]

bitch this is all you’re gonna get. this life, this face, this body. you better not ‘maybe in another universe’ your way out of everything. sit your ass down and face this. go make tea and have a picnic and read a goddamn book. kiss your loved ones, send that damn text, and hug your siblings. this is all you’re gonna get.

[kyri45]

I didn’t realize you were the person who did the fanfiction tag drinks.

ahah yeah that's meeee!!

They are all available as stickers on my RedBubble shop!

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

you know a fic is good when it has this