#i miss everything about him

[o-c-e-a-n-s-o-u-l]

A wave of sudden nostalgia hit me right now so I'm gonna make it everyone's problem.

(A random collection of) tweets we would have read if Reita had still been there during the last two months (probably):

"It's way too hot"

"Everyone, stay safe during this heat 👀"

"I can't even wear my leather jacket anymore"

"I really wanted to go to the gym today but I'm afraid I won't make it out alive ☠️"

"I played the bass until I passed out today"

(For SNKD) "Would you be interested in a line of refreshing drinks?"

Yes I miss him, how could you tell

[lotus-pear]

mourning black and the death of ideals

[g-division]

My everything 💞

kwon jiyong

[doctorsiren]

give this angle another tri

[skunkes]

[katsu2ji]

(a few of) my bakugou headcannons!

a/n: this is me coping with the ending of the manga </3 KATSUKI I MISS YOU 😞😞

i think he would much prefer softer music (off the top of my head: keshi, soft radiohead perhaps??, cigarettes after sex, etc.) as opposed to the loud music i often see him paired with—kind of a mix of whatever he likes but mainly lots of soft/chill rnb!!

++ i believe he would be a kendrick fan tbh!!!

i also think he would listen to music A LOT especially when overwhelmed

speaking of which, he gets overwhelmed super easily in social settings—he tends to go quiet when it comes to a group of people, conversing better when one on one (HE JUST LIKE ME FR!!!)

he’s the guy on campus wearing those apple airpod max headphones 24/7; his are black ofc!!

dude is the DRYEST texter ever. he makes you look like you’re begging for your ex back or smth it’s so bad (😭😭)

unless you’re a handful of very specific people, don’t expect a text back for at least a day or two…or whenever he feels like it.

he doesn't carry a bag sometimes and somehow manages to stuff everything in his pockets…his pants sag BAD...

takes his skincare super super seriously and does it every single night without fail. it is a non negotiable for him.

in general he cares about his appearance a lot; not in a self centered or an insecure way, it's just super important to him. if he knows he looks good, then he feels good, which directly impacts his performance in practice/battle—naturally, he has to make sure he's the best looking one there.

he’s a jjk fan!!!

he is the BIGGEST musical hater on the planet QUICK EVERYONE ACT SURPRISED!!!!

he’s SO MEAN when he's hungry like. to the point where you can tell when he's getting there because he just starts going OFF (more than usual, ofc).

he takes his coffee super sweet. he tried to be one of those black coffee guys, but now he just resents them because he can’t stand the taste LMAO also the sugar boost helps his quirk!! that’s the excuse he uses anyway…

aquaphor’s most loyal customer!!! he has at least one on him at all times, even when fighting

he’s super sensitive to smells and you can tell when he’s smelled something he doesn’t like because it’s immediately written all over his face—i’d also say that due to his quirk, he has a fear of constantly smelling bad because of his sweat

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[l-just-want-to-see]

hermitcraft season 10 so far includes a goat creeper going on his nth villain arc because of sand while two bystanders decide to make it worse through salmons, someone’s mental state being strongly affected by Minecraft fishing rates (not anymore tho stay safe out there), revolutionary mailing systems being installed, two guys building beautiful buildings while being passive aggressive about horses, the ocean and snails haunting the narrative, the server admin creating a system so that people that make a lot money from sales can spend it on trophies (really a fancy name for “taxes”), dog that has been meaning to be fired the whole time, essential government worker that hasn’t been seen in like.. the last decade etc etc. in the meantime zedaph is taking his mending villager on top of a chicken for a walk in the background

[kristiliqua]

CHUNSIK MY BELOVEDDDDDD

[jedi-starbird]

No one ever tells Obi-Wan that he is his Master's padawan.

Of course, for most people who had known Qui-Gon Jinn, telling someone else they resembled the the man would in fact be a thinly veiled insult. But still, Obi-Wan feels the absence of comparisons almost as strongly as he feels the absence of his Master.

There is no one for Obi-Wan to push against now, no strong presence at his side, ready to grab him by scruff and pull him back from another reckless stunt. It's an odd feeling. He has been set loose against his wishes. There is no one to his left and Anakin at his heels, but Anakin had needed, still needs, a strong, gentle figure for his prickly but sensitive heart. For even their worst bickering could not hold a candle to the scathing remarks he and Qui-Gon had shot at each other and Obi-Wan knows he cannot push and needle Anakin in the same way.

When Qui-Gon had been alive they had been an amusing, mirrored pair, the maverick and his rule-following padawan. Opposites clashing against each other, yet working together to complete the most difficult missions. Few saw that Qui-Gon's impertinence had indeed rubbed off on his padawan, cultivated from that small, angry initiate, because the only way to rebel against the rule-breaker had been to parrot the Council fastidiously. No one would ever get to see that again. Obi-Wan is one half of a mirrored pair trying to complete a routine on his own. What once was an impish, teasing compliance is now a betrayal of all his Master's values.

"How could Qui-Gon raise such a model Jedi?" He hears them say, "It's admirable that Master Kenobi was appointed to the Council despite his Master's maverick ways."

Padawan Kenobi would have yelled and kicked and screamed. Master Kenobi is serene. It should feel like an achievement. It feels like a disappointment.

Sometimes, Obi-Wan looks at the shape of the man he has moulded himself into, and aches to be his Master's padawan.

[kugisakiss]

Now I'm imagining Shinichi, post-antidote & and still hanging out with the detective boys, Slipping up and calling Takagi papa

they're sending it to heiji-niichan

[lotus-pear]

the dialogue choices in this game should be more diabolical

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[bambidixon]

"Omg Daryl Dixon is so cold he never talks" WRONG.

Daryl Dixon might come off as quiet, but he actually loves sharing his little stories when he thinks someone could learn from them or feel better. Like, when he talks about getting lost in the woods for days with no one looking for him, I know it's a way to let us know him but also, he does it to give hope while they’re looking for Sophia. Then when he opens up to Carl about his mom to help him feel understood and give him a chance to talk about his feelings, that was so special sharing such a vulnerable part of himself for the sake of the other it's beautiful. With Beth, he shares some stuff about living with Merle to show her that she doesn’t have to change; she’s already better than he is. And when they're searching for Connie’s sister, he tells Connie about Merle to cheer her up a bit even with the language barrier which makes it more important, because he is really trying.

Daryl has been through a lot of tough stuff, and it feels like he’s trying to make that pain mean something by passing on what he’s learned. It’s like he’s saying, “I went through this for a reason, and now I’ve got some knowledge to share I have to make all this damage good game.” These little moments show how selfless he is and how much he really cares. From the start, these details reveal who he truly is.

HE WAS NEVER A LONE WOLF BY DECISION HE WAS NEVER MEAN AND MOST DEFINITELY HE WASN'T MERLE DIXON

[arthursfuckinghat]

I'm at that part of chapter three my friends, so let me be a reminder that Colm O'Driscoll's plan to lure in Dutch after taking Arthur failed because nobody came looking for him.

He would have died being held captive any longer, he barely escaped.

The gang did not come for Arthur.

[sysig]

How much of me is me? (Patreon)

[sanjiaftersex]

Favourite pre-timeskip Sanji moments

These are a few of my favourite pre ts sanji moments

(1) Baratie arc when sanji served fresh food for don krieg despite everyone telling him that krieg was notorious for betraying people. Sanji still served the food because of his value of "feeding the hungry no matter what"

(2) Sweet sanji preparing bentos for Luffy vivi and a special drink for Vivi's duck karoo so they can go explore the little garden island. Also packing and tying the lunches for the kids (luffy and karoo) by himself

(3) water 7 Sanji following his principle of "never waste food" while fighting CP7's ramen guy wanze (who had a full ramen armour and sanji cut his armour up and served the ramens all in different plates around the kitchen)

(4) thriller bark Sanji holding an unconscious nami up so she won't get injured while he takes all the hits from Absalom He's not just a simp, he genuinely cares for nami

(5) water 7 Sanji smoking a cigarette while spying and finding out sensitive government information

(6) Post enies lobby filler sanji crying throwing up stressing over finding out the right spices of a fried rice. He is a true chef at heart and has so much love for his craft

(7) post skypiea filler G-8 arc sanji when someone says he is better than all of the navy chefs and sanji cutely offers to give his recipes to them. He is so cute kind and humble

(8) sabaody sanji kicking the Celestial dragon knowing what'll happen and not giving a fuck anyway

(9) skypiea sanji being all big smiles and happy while showing conis the bento he has arranged for her and telling them how arranging food is an art (look at the little winged angel he put there as a representation for conis who has wings)

(10) Sanji leaving a message for nami in water 7, even in the dire situation they were in (usopp left, robin was abducted, they were all accused of murder) sanji being his usual cute loser self