i think i'm speeding up a bit

wait y'all is #praisintheasian a thing?? because i’ve seen a little bit on instagram and a lot more on twitter but it doesn’t seem to be picking up nearly as much speed here, which is somewhat disappointing, as asians (and especially non-east asians) and pacific islanders are so often left out of things that desire to show diversity and are often forgotten about when the term “poc” is brought into play, and i think it’s wonderful that we have something like this for us now. while i’m too nervous to post an actual picture of myself (and thus reverted to a drawing haha), it makes me so, so happy to see other asians and pacific islanders of all countries—not just east asians, which are so often the only ones of us acknowledged if they are mentioned at all—being able to show who they are and our existence with pride. we—all of us—exist too. this tag makes me so happy, and i’m so sad to see it’s not getting as much attention as other tags of this type have received in the past.

selamat to all my fellow filipinos on the tag!! 🇵🇭🇵🇭

A New Start (Rp closed for @the-infamous-informant)

Shizuo wasn’t particularly busy, but he was planning to enjoy his day off if it meant the death of him. Tom had decided to give him a week as a break from the usual bodyguard work, and he had decided to take this day to just relax for once. No work. No violence. And most of all, no Izaya.

If anything, Ikebukuro seemed to be at peace, at least for the moment. 

Shizuo inhaled a breath, taking in some smoke from his cigarette to calm his nerves a little. For some reason, he felt antsy, as if he was on edge. It was almost like something was about to happen, but he didn’t have any clue as to what it would be considering the circumstances. 

Huffing out an exhale, Shizuo lumbered down the street, not really looking for anything in particular except that all was as it should be.

Until he saw that it wasn’t.

Off in an alleyway to the side up ahead, there appeared to be a small spat going on. There were three guys, all of a pretty high caliber, at least physically. They practically towered over another, shorter man, who had a head of scruffy, black hair that Shizuo didn’t care to focus on. 

This obviously wasn’t a fair fight.

He crushed the cigarette in his hand, dropping it on the ground. Crunching it beneath his foot, Shizuo let out an animalistic growl and stormed over to the four men, taking the side of the shorter one who seemed to be backing away at this point, almost as though he was injured. At least he had enough sense to get out of the way. Shizuo didn’t get a good look at his face, but that didn’t matter. 

He didn’t like unfair fights.

Slamming a fist into one’s face, the leader collapsed to the ground, causing the other two to gasp in horror, taking ahold of their boss and scurrying away like the scoundrels they presumably were.

Why was his peace always so short-lived?

Letting out a sigh, Shizuo was about to reach for another cigarette when he realized the one he’d crushed was his last one. Grunting in distaste, he left his hands at his sides for lack of anything better to do with them.

Turning around, he found himself looking into the ruby red gaze of a well-known informant.