OMG HI IRIIISS I WAS SO BUSY LAST FEW DAYS I WANTED TO CHECK IN

ABSOKUTELY FUCKING CLOCKED ME. WHAG DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS

IM CACKLING 😭😭😭 it’s an observation 😞😕

guys who moderate your social media account like a fucking hawk.

he’s specially modified his notifications so that he’ll ONLY get notifications from your account, hence being the first one to view your story, the first one to like your posts, the first one to share your posts …

and it doesn’t end there, each time he sees another guy commenting “🔥🔥” , “😍😍” or “🤙🤙”

he won’t force you to block them, no. instead, he’ll reply to their comment with “🧯💨” , “😎🤏” or “☎️” , and as soon as the person in question clicks on his what seems to be empty profile, they’ll be bombarded with multiple posts of you and him, a special highlight dedicated to you and your initial placed in his bio.

you act like you hate it, you act like it embarrasses you, but in reality? you fucking adore it, you never want him to stop.

characs : chigiri hyoma, karasu tabito, itoshi rin, bachira meguru, otoya eita, shidou ryusei, reo mikage + your favs 🙀

masterlist

beautiful duane linklater

this is me and atsumu when we got married:

this is atsumu now:

Girl don’t tell me what to do🙄 that’s still A MAN I WANNA FUCK.

✘ RED THREAD OF FATE ; kirishima eijirou. “i can’t believe i found you again.” / “i knew you would.”

synopsis : people get divorced and ten-year-old best friends move away, abruptly severing all contact. oh, and some people are brought back together by pure, absolute fate. content : no quirks + band AU. profanity. alcohol + drug mention and consumption. 20-yr-old! reader/kirishima. lgbtq+ characters. past substance abuse.

taglist is open - please fill out this form. smau/traditional. specific cw added at the beginning of each chapter. no update schedule. punk kiri, denki, bakugou, mina, dabi, shigaraki, etc.

❪ TRACKLIST ❫

romance ・ 2025 ・ ۝ earier

● 1 Ribs ; prologue by Lorde.

● 2 Tba

● 3 Tba

R!ot Rev!val

kirishima eijirou, lead vocals ; bakugou katsuki, drums ; sero hanta, bass ; mina ashido, keyboard ; denki kaminari, electric guitar.

think: greenday, p!atd in its prime, fall out boy, the all-american rejects, as it is, set it off, fall in reverse, get scared, we the kings, yellowcard.

“The Girls”

y/n l/n, kits and kaboots / uni student ; toga himiko, kits and kaboots ; touya “dabi” todoroki, bartender ; shigaraki tomura, bartender.

think: forcing the boys into face care nights, shared cigarettes on the balcony, loudly singing in crowded cars, platonic cuddling, constant eye rolling.

by the mercy of the universe and the prophecy that the galaxy wrote long ago, choso kamo finds you ( @cherrysurf ) in the universe of hercules. dynamic: hercules and megara.

despite you being your own person, the deep rooted longing to be seen is taken by its nape and doted on ever too gently by choso. deeply loyal and protective, his first instinct upon even seeing you was to love you. now, I would not really compare your personality to megara, but the banter and tease as well as the fact that he knows you are capable and yet still wants to provide fits. he peels your oranges for you.

choso may be a bit struck to find that you are nearly as loyal as he. he figured that because of being wired to group with his family — family being anyone he truly loves, by his definition — he would always care a little bit more. safe to say he appreciates you.

in the moments where you are loud or erratic he just sits there with soft eyes because he does not entirely understand what you are doing but he thinks it is beautiful nonetheless. just nods his head and goes along. despite hundreds of years of wisdom, your randomness can catch him off guard.

when you get anxious, he gets anxious. there are times when he literally has to take your hands in his and stop you from picking at your hands because it affects him just as much as luckily, it aids the both of you.

choso yearns to please and loves to provide. he is shown consistently putting himself in the way of harm to protect and aid his family. similar to yuji, if he notices the slightest hint of discomfort, he is forcing you to let him handle it. you best not let his emotional nature distract you from his strength and determination — he is not a man child as many assume.

though he does not bicker much, there are moments where he gets sassy and you’re left just ?????? because oh my gosh, you are rubbing off on him big time. he is not even aware of this until you point it out, though, to which he would hum and respond with something like that’s what love does. it makes you become one. before moving about his merry day.

ITS ARAN DAYYYYYYYYYYY

NAGI SEISHIRO has a standard set of moves even when he’s asleep.

you found this out on accident one night as you were heading to bed, him already passed out while waiting for you.

he’s laid on his back, covers pulled up to his chest and toned arms resting above plush white as he very softly snores. it’s been tough on him lately with having to get up early and return late, he ends up succumbing to slumber much earlier than usual.

quietly settling into the empty spot next to him, you reach your hand out to rest on his, and to your surprise, he grabs it and rubs the most soothing of circles into your skin, a motion so fluid it’s like second nature.

he even turns over to fully drape himself over your figure, pulling you in close and gently humps into your clothed ass for a grand total of three times before mumbling intelligibly and pressing a kiss to the back of your head, all while unconscious and fully asleep.

shaking your head with a stifled laugh to not stir him awake, you let yourself melt into his hold, keeping a mental note on this new adorable discovery.

you later learn that he does this more often than you think, subconsciously.

taglist. open (link to form) @saucejar @daisy-room @stellar-headquarters @whatisnureotypical @haruhi269

@ayatakanosstuff @cyxjz @irethepotato @mwezieclipze @mikiruie

© inloveinsickness. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

toji starts buying two of everything without realizing. two drinks, two sets of tableware, two seats on the plane. when you point it out, he simply shrugs. “it makes sense, since you’re always around.”

and it does. you are. somewhere along the way, yours and his stopped being two separate categories. things blended. bled. one toothbrush became two. one key became a spare. he didn’t assign you a drawer, but your clothes take up more space than his do.

now he’s sitting by the kitchen counter, lights dimmed, papers spread out in an unruly mess that makes sense only to him. his hair’s grayer at the temples and there’s a softness to his face that wasn’t there before — age, maybe. peace, possibly. or both.

you laugh and pad over barefoot, press a kiss to the faded scar on his mouth. his hand finds your waist like muscle memory, and you slide into his lap without thinking twice (pun intended).

he lets out a quiet “hnn” but doesn’t complain.

you sip your wine, let your head rest against his shoulder. “so,” you fix his glasses, perched on his nose like he’s fighting the idea of needing them.

“when do you plan on finally asking me out?”

he’s getting pudgy in the middle — not fat, just soft in the way you get when you find your person.

toji doesn’t look up. “it’s been twenty years.”

“and?”

“I do your taxes.”

there’s a candle burning, the cinnamon one you buy every fall. you don’t remember lighting it today. he often does it on his own these days, anyway.

you smile. “quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

“you want a title now or something?” he asks. grumbles, really. “after all this time?”

you fix his shirt. “I just think it’s funny. we’ve got a mortgage, joint bank account, and last week we agreed on baby names if it ends up looking like you.”

he grunts. “poor kid.”

“she’ll be cute. dumb, probably. but cute.”

“he.” “she.”

he chuckles, traces your ring finger between his thumbs. “you’re not getting a promposal, if that’s what you’re waiting on.”

you lean in, nosing his cheek in the way that makes his knees weak. “there goes my big dream.”

you set your glass on the table beside his calculator. he’s warm, and he smells like soap and laundry and that one cologne he pretends not to like.

“you don’t even ask me for my logins anymore.”

he rolls his eyes. “don’t need to. you keep your passwords stupid.”

“they’re not stupid. they’re nostalgic.”

“TojiFan69 is not nostalgic.”

you squish his face between your hands, laughing when he scrunches it up in faux protest. “made that in high school before I even met you.”

“then it was prophetic. still fuckin’ stupid.”

now he’s muttering, something about deductions and charitable donations, and you slot yourself between his knees, hands resting on his shoulders. he doesn’t flinch. nor does he pause. only adjusts so you fit better against him, pecking you on the forehead in the way that makes your nose scrunch. revenge.

the calculator’s still blinking beside you, some half-finished total waiting for his attention, yet neither of you move. he glances down at you - now asleep - then back at the receipts, the gears turning.

in his mind, he’s already adding a third drink, a third set of tableware, and a third seat on the plane.