#call it sentiment

[popagan]

Sure, reading fics where Izaya or Shizuo gets destroyed(destroy themselves) or never getting better or never lived to tell the tale is cool. Reading post-ketsu Izaya coming back or to suffer in agony and die alone is cool. But what about fic where post-Ketsu Izaya gets better? Not because of Shizuo, not out of love perhaps, not out of companionship. Just Izaya, just him, just Kanto (or wherever else), and maybe just him getting better.

Maybe he traveled across the world just for the kick of it (mild To Hell and Back reference), maybe he went everywhere else but home. Maybe he’ll long for it but will choose to let go, or grieve, or whatever else. Maybe he finds new friends - those who cared in their own way, maybe he and Tsukumoya go around to find new myths, new legends, new things, and they remain in contact as gossip friends (or as friends in general); maybe Izaya will get a pet, and find something to hold onto and to try to better himself for it.

And it doesn’t have to be something Izaya consciously try to do or acknowledge, maybe not as many self-reflection as one would go through when they try to improve; but it’s subtle and it doesn’t necessarily have to be good for other people, just for Izaya. Selfishness and happiness can go hand-in-hand for a man like him, I think.

And I don’t mean Izaya getting a redemption or becoming a “good” or just “good enough” is out of the table, but I think he can be better without becoming good or a law-abiding citizen with an honest job and tries to help people; but maybe he’ll be less “bad” (as in ruin people’s lives less) if you get what I’m saying. He can be happier and healthier and still be somewhat of a little shit. Mischievous little shit.

Something light-hearted, something tender, something that Izaya can do by himself - or with the help of others - but not necessarily by the help of ones who walked in the past. (Looking at you, Shizuo, Shinra.)

(But truthfully I don’t mind with anyone, such is the joy of reading fanfiction.)

Typing this out make me realize I just really like the Slice of Life genre/drabbles. Just fun times in general, mainly because I think we all would need that ever since Kuramerukagari haha.

I had a whole spiel I want to type about how much I love fics where everyone just become friends and have a happy-fun-time or the world goes to shit and everyone dies, but maybe that’s another can of worm for another day. (City of Sunshine (viridianjester) my beloved.)

(TLDR; I reread Clair De Lune by NoteInABottle and I want to find/read more of those.)

(TLDR2; Izaya needs to stop being a lonely bastard and find peace for himself.)

[bonefall]

Anyway. Bi and Mspec Lesbians aren't a hotly "debated" topic or even new to queer culture, it's just the newest thing that bullies who REALLY want to be homophobic and even racist use to justify harassing gay people they don't like.

It's the thinnest possible veneer of progressive language wrapped around TERF and reactionary rhetoric so that they can feel righteous for forming an angry mob against vulnerable targets. If you're gullible enough to fall for the newest wave of bigotry within the queer community, and turn on your allies because they're "confusing" or "invading your spaces," the SAME way they turned on bi/pan labels, trans people, xenogenders, neopronouns, and aroace people before this, then get lost.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Laios's three Boy Best Friends. And yes, they hate him.

[cum-villain]

Has anyone else noticed recently how there's been a surge in "fujoshis are homophobic"/"women are fetishizing gay men" type statements and ideology around the same time "trans men are women trying to invade queer men's spaces" type anti trans men sentiments have been rising?

[vaguely-concerned]

I always feel somehow insulted on the guy's behalf when people ascribe every single sign of personality g1deon ever exhibits to pyrrha peeking through. he is a fairly inscrutable character seen through harrow's eyes (she is also, understandably, distracted by the fact that he keeps trying to murder her lol), but credit him with at least a little bit of interiority and depth of character, huh. there must have been something there for pyrrha to have loved and trusted him so much. him saluting harrow for almost turning him inside out at dinner makes perfect sense seen in context with the way he hilariously and casually is like 'sorry about this whole thing btw, this wasn't my idea' the last time he tries to kill her, and it being pyrrha instead only opens questions of how augustine at least wouldn't have noticed the changing eye colour (HUGE risk for pyrrha to take for no good reason, if so). g1deon clearly has a kind of deep respect for a worthy opponent, as we also see with wake, and there are several times when the dios apate disaster trio are being. well, themselves, where it's noted that g1deon looks at harrow as if in quiet solidarity (even if it just freaks her out fhdssdfa). this poor guy has been sure he's losing his mind for ten thousand years and when he found out he'd apparently been fucking The one person he shouldn't during his blackouts he just. he just went with it? for a while??? it seems????? listen I'm saying this guy has got layers and he provably has Weird ideas about the capacity for coexistence between cameraderie, respect and attempted murder

idk. he's not the most charismatic presence in the books, I know, but I feel bad about the idea of denying him basic humanity and depth. and if nothing else will convince people, HOW could you disrespect pyrrha like this by assuming she was once upon a time ready to give her whole soul to a guy who's genuinely thoroughly boring and swagless

[chubbychiquita]

self proclaimed simps, white knights, and the "she's not going to fuck you" receivers, please form an orderly line so i can fuck you

[glassgob]

[Image ID: Digital illustration of ARC Trooper Echo post- Star Wars: The Bad Batch finale. He is casually standing while wearing ARC Trooper Fives' armor. Fives' helmet is tucked under his left arm. End ID.]

inspired by k8s_space's fic new armor, old memories because the concept of echo taking fives' armor had me sprawled out on the floor o|-<

[winchester101]

I want to see Luffy kill a man for insulting Sanji’s cooking

[fandomfloozy]

Oh, I'm pretty boy?

pairing: katsuki bakugo x sick!reader

c/w: fluff, early relationship, petnames (katsuki calls reader babe, reader evidently calls katsuki pretty lol), sprinkles of hispanic!reader/spanish-speaking!reader, gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

~°•*~

You've been sick the last few days.

You're on the tail-end of recovery now, thank god, but for most of the week you've been bed-ridden, and snotty, and sweaty, and hot, and cold. It's been miserable, if you're being honest. With the light at the end of the tunnel in view, you're glad the worst of it is over.

There has been one upside to being sickly, though--one aspect that makes you wish you could be sick just one more day: Ever since you fell ill, since the moment he'd heard you were taking leave off work to rest at home for a bit, you've been under the thorough care of your very own, self-appointed nurse, Katsuki.

There's this saying: "You'll never truly know someone well enough until you've seen them struggle financially, grieve a lost loved one, or witness them while they're sick."

Your relationship is new. Not early days, but still far too soon for him to be seeing you sick, for your liking.

But when he showed up at your door a couple days ago--masked up, worry-eyed, and holding all the essentials for treating a typical head cold--how could you refuse him?

And to be fair, he's been a rock. He's changed your compresses (water bowl kept at optimal temperature), given you medicine in intervals (timed and administered to the MINUTE), and even cooked you palatable meals (anything you could keep down, but namely the caldo recipe he got from your mom when he asked her what you ate when you're sick). He did everything short of rubbing Vick's vapo rub on you (not for lack of trying), all while keeping a level head and brushing aside your concerns over feeling like you're burdening him.

"You're my partner," he'd say matter-of-factly. "This is my job, ain't it?"

A rhetorical question. He said it as if it was an irrefutable truth, as if he hadn't even considered an alternative, as if the very thought of leaving you to fend off this cold by yourself was an affront to your relationship, scowl on his face and all.

His bedside manner needed work, but when he said those words to you... let's just say the flush rising up your face probably had nothing to do with the cold.

So, yeah. While you're happy to be feeling better, you can't help being a little disappointed that the doting will soon come to an end.

Which is why you now sit with your head resting in your hands, elbows on the kitchen bar, making the most of admiring a now unmasked Katsuki as he cooks your dinner on what will be the last of your "sick days."

You're unashamed in your ogling. You feel bold. It might be the relaxed atmosphere. It might be the way Katsuki let you wear his hoodie tonight... It might just be the cold medicine. You feel dozy, comfy, and so dopily content as you watch your boyfriend chop vegetables.

He does it with ease--so practiced that it's like he's on autopilot. His defenses are down, completely in his element.

"'Ya sure you want all this cooked in with your rice?" Now that you're feeling better, he's less inclined to hold his tongue about his thoughts on your childhood dishes.

You yawn and nod. "Mhm, it's the way my mami always makes it."

"Just sayin', I could make ya rice without all this extra stuff."

"It's a good thing you're not making rice, Katsuki." You pout dramatically for emphasis. "You're making sopita."

"Sopita," he repeats, shaking his head with a sideways grin. "Alright, babe. I've got you covered. Sopita coming right up."

You switch to resting your cheek in one hand, continuing to observe your boyfriend as he works. He looks so serene this way. With his smug little half smile, even his expression screams "relaxed"--very unlike his usual frown and furrowed brow.

You're not used to seeing him like this. Sure, you've seen him in a good mood, upbeat, excited, even downright elated, like on the day you agreed to go out with him.

Katsuki has always been an... expressive person, even when it doesn't grant him the most flattering of expressions.

Right now, though, while he's contented and caring for you in the comfort of your own home, his features are on display in such a way that you wonder if the cough syrup really is getting to you.

He looks almost...

Pretty...

"You're starin'."

You know you are. "Sorry," you laugh. "I was just thinking how it's a shame you have such a cara de fuchi most of the time, Kats. You're so pretty."

His head snaps toward you. "Fucking WHAT." The furrow is back in his brow. If you were paying proper attention, you'd notice the flush rising up his neck and the back of his ears, but your eyelids are feeling a bit heavy at this point.

You wave your free hand dismissively. "You know, cara de fuchi," you explain. You're sure you've used this phrase in front of him before. "Like you're a sour puss, you pull faces--"

"I'm not fucking pretty," he interrupts.

You open your eyes slightly to squint at him. "Pfft," you laugh. "Has no one ever told you that?"

"Hell, no." He turns back to the task at hand. Grumbling under his breath.

With his signature grimace making its return, the allure is gone; but now that you've seen it, you can't unsee it. He's beautiful. His eyes are a nice shape, and the crimson color of his irises is striking against his light complexion. The way his hair falls just above is strong browbone makes you want to push it back and rub at the scrunch between his brows. And you know he has soft lips, but on top of that, they're such a nice shade of pink. His jawline. His cheekbones. His chin.

It's a fundamental truth. Katsuki Bakugo is pretty.

You fold your arms on the island and press your cheek into the crook of your elbow. "I'm sure people would tell you more often if all the pretty wasn't covered up by your perpetual stank face."

Cue said stank face. He bumbles over his words in frustration for a second. "You're sick and loopy, stop bein' weird."

You giggle. "And you have a nice face when you're not acting chronically disgusted by the world."

He looks at you properly and you smile to yourself in pure delight and fondness.

"You're pretty when you're happy, Katsuki."

He deliberates over it for a moment, stank face semi relaxing. He's about to say something else when you cut into the silence with another yawn.

His gaze softens into an amused smirk as he reaches for your cheek and pinches softly. "Alright, alright. Don't fall asleep on me just yet, you gotta eat properly before goin' to bed."

You swat his hand away and rise to attention while rubbing your eyes. "Okay, okay. I'm up."

He smiles and goes back to cooking your half-prepared meal. "Ponte las pilas, or whatever the hell your mom says when you start lazin' around."

You huff at that. "I regret teaching you Spanish, you always pick up the worst phrases."

Katsuki barks out a laugh and you can't help the snort that follows as you giggle right along with him.

You two settle into the monotony of the last evening of your first of many sick days together. You're sure your boyfriend has had more than enough of witnessing you sick to satisfy stipulations. Suffice to say that he felt he knew you and your "sleepy freak tendencies" a bit better now.

There's definitely an addendum you'd make to that old saying, though: You'll never know how pretty someone is until you've seen them care for you while you're sick.

~°•*~

divider via cafekitsune

gif via ara-kan (deactivated)

[starsofang]

Price’s world was colorless until you. Filled with black and whites, a grayscale coating his vision everywhere he looked. It was boring, bland, tasteless. There was no excitement, no liveliness.

Where he saw nothing but the splattered crimson of friend and foe, haunting his memory with a shadowy haze, you introduced him to the golden rays of sunshine for the first time. It banished away his acts of sin and replenished him with nurturing light that only you could provide.

You became his way of sight, opening his eyes to the vibrant beautiful there was to life around him. You showed him the exploding colors of fireworks on a cozy night wrapped around one another, or the fields of flowers that painted the plains of Earth with primaries.

Price could finally appreciate the unfinished canvas before him, and on that canvas was you — dead center, star of the show, painted like beautifully displayed art.

The world was no longer a battleground, bleeding with the souls of his comrades he swore to protect. It wasn’t gloomy with his self-deprecating guilt, storm clouds looming over him and following him wherever he went.

It was you, painting over his pain with gentle brush strokes until it all bled into the background and you became the focal point. You introduced him to a colorful world, and he’d never seen something so beautiful.

[jaymang0]

Sad boy hours

[mugentakeda]

category 5 jetko moment

[sealsdaily]

Maybe it's for the best selkies aren't in Dungeon Meshi manga. Otherwise they'd probably get eaten

Guys guys guys guys. GUYS. They don't just eat anything inhuman y'know??? They didn't eat the mermaids, i don't see why they'd eat a selkie.

[temeyes]

oh yeah, laswell would definitely make a decision for you @mossy-mushroom

[faunandfloraas]

Eternity, Bang Chan - 2024 // Eternity, Arthur Stace - 1932 to 1966.

In 1932, residents all over the city of Sydney started noticing something interesting, the word “Eternity” written on the pavement or wall, over and over again. The word was seemingly written by the same person each time, in a beautiful copperplate script. The mystifying and intriguing presence of graffiti before graffiti was commonplace had Sydney residents pondering who this "Eternity man" could be. In 1956, the mystery was solved- Arthur Stace, a former soldier and alcoholic, turned man of faith, had inscribed the word over Sydney's suburbs more than half a million times between 1932 and 1966. He chose to write the word in the early hours of the morning, when few people were around, managing to keep his identity a secret for over 20 years. Something about the word eternity, written in fleeting chalk on the ever-changing city streets, seemed to compel locals- Newspaper writers published account after account speculating on the identity of this unknown man and the occasional false confession helped to maintain the air of wonder and mystery that surrounded the anonymous "Eternity man". Even after his identity had been revealed, Mr. Eternity, as he came to be dubbed, continued writing his eponymous "Eternity" across the walkways and walls of Sydney for another decade, becoming a beloved character in the city until his passing at the age of 82, in 1967. Now, nearly 60 years after the final "Eternity" by Arthur Stace was written, his message of eternity still manages to permeate the minds of Sydneysiders- becoming a representative word of the city.

[alevens]

captain (affectionate) idiot (affectionate) Luffy (affectionate) monster (affectionate) Luffy-san (affectionate) Pirate King (affectionate)