Flowers are one of my favorite things that come from the earth, and I think Sonic and Amy would be good at remembering to stop and smell the flowers, even when things aren’t looking up.
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Flowers are one of my favorite things that come from the earth, and I think Sonic and Amy would be good at remembering to stop and smell the flowers, even when things aren’t looking up.

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TADC: THE FINAL ACT SPOILERS!
I request you to write Karmanami with no. 14! Thank you!
Finally got around to doing it, Adi! Sorry it’s not very long, but the Elements now chapter will hopefully make up for that? Coming soon~~
So either way, here you go! This was really fun to write! I hope you enjoy!
Blurry vision and acute headaches were typical symptoms of a hangover. Manami of all people should have known that- and she did, but knowledge did little in the way of reversing the events of last night. Events which Manami had no recollection of- and she doubted she wanted to, if she were to be honest.
She wasn’t sure what godly force still resided within her, but she was grateful that it granted her the strength to swing her feet over the edge of the bed. The room spinned with her, but Manami decided to be grateful for the little things in life and made her way to the bathroom, leaning on wall for support.
Drinking wasn’t her forte, she knew that all too well. Karma had once ordered sake for her- he paid the price by carrying her home on his back. Then again, Karma was the reason why she got drunk in the first place- that, her blurry memory could tell her. He needed to leave on a business trip right on Christmas, which just so happened to be his birthday, which doubled the number of events Manami missed spending with him and thus the uncomfortable knot in her heart tightened.
She didn’t hold it against him- Karma was a busy man, and she knew he’d be bored if he didn’t have his work. Even so, he always made time for her, and he treasured each moment they had together at least as much as she did. But she was only human, and greed was a feeling she couldn’t escape, as was the loneliness that was gnawing away at her insides.
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7年後妄想 by KOKOEN
~ Permission to upload given by the artist. Please do not edit, or remove the source link. You can bookmark/rate the work on the Pixiv page. ~
Translation by @irraydiance [source]
I only typeset this. I really wanted to do this because it’s one of my favourite doujinshis out there! This is my favourite OTP of Assassination Classroom, and I really wanted to share this. Trust me, go visit Pixiv. They have so many good works too.

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Sorry guys somtimes I forget I have tumblr, have some karumana
psst also here on insta if u'd like
some doods
rewatching assassination classroom has been the best decision of my year so far, remembered how much love I have for them
i dub them the chaos duo and their oblivious partners
Add some color😛😛

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Pomni learing the piano in the end credits gave me ideas
Majority of my area flooded and we had a tornado, anyway Funnybunny for fun 🤤🤤🤤
Ohh Jax you're so pretty
Waking Up - part 2
Part 1
you shouldve just talked to me she said

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When Tess Morgan's son came home with a tattoo, she was griefstricken. She knew her reaction was OTT (he's 21) but it signalled a change in their relationship
This is gold this, absolute gold, the most over the top melodramatic hysterical ridiculous thing I’ve ever read
This is actually so interesting to read- it’s from 2012 but its full of the same anxieties, even some of the same phrasing that many of the guardian’s later pieces on transness use. really hammers home how much of the terfism that emerged in the late 10s was middle class mothers angry at a loss of control over their adult children- whether that be their bodies or their friends or their opinions- and making that everyone’s problem because they have the power to do so
He says, “I’m still the same person.”
I look at him, sitting there, my 21-year-old son. I feel I’m being interviewed for a job I don’t even want. I say, “But you’re not. You’re different. I will never look at you in the same way again. It’s a visceral feeling. Maybe because I’m your mother. All those years of looking after your body – taking you to the dentist and making you drink milk and worrying about green leafy vegetables and sunscreen and cancer from mobile phones. And then you let some stranger inject ink under your skin. To me, it seems like self-mutilation. If you’d lost your arm in a car accident, I would have understood. I would have done everything to make you feel better. But this – this is desecration. And I hate it.”
Also just the classism of her associating tattoos with “vest tops, dogs on chains, broken beer glasses”; like, just say you hate poor people
Oh funnybunny you are so beautiful