Omg Hai... I Heard Smthing About Moodboards....

behind every writer who rarely posts is a writer who used to post daily

Good morning to Rin and no one else but Rin💙

He’s so pretty

who wants to let me cough in their mouth so they can get sick lmk!

$5 for a weak cough

$10 for a strong cough

$26 dollars i’ll make out with you so we can rlly make sure u get the sickness

hi imy ily i give u my entire immune system

hi cid this was so sweet to wake up to ilysm

"mumma?"

there's a tug to your pant leg that turns you away from your skincare to acknowledge, smiling down at the little girl with eye's like kenma's blinking up at you longingly. maesi blinks up at you before pointing at the lip balm in your hand. "lisstick?"

you smile softly, "close! lip balm, baby.” you twist the lip balm down slightly before putting it on the counter, bending to hook your hands under maesi’s arms and haul her up and onto the counter. her curious hands wander to the lip balm, and she picks it up with excited eyes. “i dood it?”

you smile, “sure why not. it’s clear.” you help maesi turn to face the mirror, “now go like this, baby-“ you purse your lips out and use your finger to demonstrate how to apply the lip balm, which she copies. you see the subtle sheen of where she missed her lips glistening on her skin under the lights of the bathroom. she squeals in satisfaction before putting down the lip balm and raising her arms to be picked up. “wanna come up?”

“wanna get down!” she says, and you obey her wish before watching her giggle and make a break for the bathroom door.

“and where are you going?” you smile.

maesi turns to you and giggles, “gonna get daddy!”

“you wanna get daddy?” you laugh, making the connection between the lipstick question from earlier and the application of lip balm now; she wants to prank him, thinking she’ll leave color on him.

you smile and make your way down the hall, watching her toddle in her jammies to his streaming room. she pushes the door open, and you hear kenma’s voice go from loud and clear, to much more soft when addressing your child.

“hey spawn,” kenma coos, pausing his game. “how are you? where’s mumma? wanna say hi to chat?” she nods eagerly, and kenma pulls her up and onto his lap. “wave hi, baby.”

maesi doesn’t wave, instead, she puckers her lips out childishly for a kiss, and kenma chuckles as he leans down to kiss her, tasting the familiar taste of your lip balm. immediately, his three year old crumbles into laughter, squirming out of his grip and running away, yelling a soft “got you!” and kenma hears you in the hallway, gasping and squealing in pretend panic, hearing your shared laughter fade away as you make your way down the hall.

he cocks a brow before returning to his stream, “i don’t know what just happened.” he looks into his monitor and smacks his lips together before shrugging and turning back to his game. “but im not complaining.”

bokeandbookies LMAOOOO

keishatwolips SHE GOT YOU (literally have no idea what just happened)

rayisthename LMAOOOO

notemmyrosee I think she got you kodzuken

grannyshouseparty IF SPAWN SAYS SHE GOT YOU, SHE GOT YOU

thank you kuroosasscheek for the 1500 bits GET PRANKED

“kuroo, you’re just mad i got a kiss and you didn’t.”

kuroosasscheek you’re right </3

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@stockholm1996

kaiser gives me pretentious filmbro, and everytime u watch smth of his choosing, ur sleeping with ur face pressed against his shoulder in ten minutes top. he only huffs out a little laugh, pulling you closer.

𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞

pairing: husband!katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

warnings: cursing, light angst (if you squint), hurt/comfort, emotional argument, established relationship

notes: the start of the katsuki fics for his bday aka toke letting the drafts free 💋

516 | your first argument as a married couple is entirely different and yet somehow still completely the same

Katsuki doesn't let either of you go to bed upset. After an argument, you storm back into your shared bedroom at 11 PM, fully expecting him to be asleep, but he’s not. He’s there, sitting against the headboard, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows over the hard lines of his body. His chin rests against his hand, fingers pressed into his check like they’re the only thing keeping him wake. His crimson eyes find yours, tired and unreadable, lingering on you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Finally ready to talk?” he asks, voice low and rough, as though he hasn’t spoken in hours. As if your name’s been sitting on the edge of his throat all night, waiting for the moment you’d come back.

You swallow hard, shoulders tense. You want to be angry still, want to cling to the pride that made you storm away in the first place. But the way he looks at you, baggy-eyed, distant, but not cruel. It breaks down whatever resentment you had left and for a fleeting moment you think it is unfair.

“I didn’t think you’d still be awake,” you say softly, eyes darting away like you’re ashamed, like part of you wanted him to chase after you when you stormed out of this room hours before.

He exhales through his nose, shifting just slightly. “Of course I am. What kinda man do you think I am?”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. Not because they’re harsh, but because they’re honest. Blunt. Him.

You move slowly, like your body’s still unsure, and he watches you the whole time. Never pushing, never rushing, just waiting. And when you finally cross the room and sit on the edge of the bed, you feel the tension in his frame start to ease.

“I hate fighting with you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him. Arms reflexively wrapped round your frame.

“I hate fighting with you,” he says immediately, voice thick with something that makes your throat tighten. You feel. the bed shift and his heat radiated behind you. “But I’ll do it if it means we get better. If it means we don’t let this shit sit between us like poison.”

His hands brush your elbow first. A reminder. He rubs at your skin and something inside you aches. Your smaller hands find his without thinking, fingers brushing together. He grips you gently, just enough to let you know he’s still here, still yours, no matter what.

You don’t apologize with words. Not yet. You both will…. eventually. But for now, in the quiet of your shared bedroom, under the soft glow of the lamp and the quiet buzz of forgiveness hanging in the air, you let him pull you close.

He presses his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips. Crimson eyes hidden.

“No goin’ to bed mad, remember?” he murmurs. “That was the deal.”

And you nod. Because when it comes to love, his love, it’s not about being right.

It’s about coming back.

Always.

twins

I need to sink my teeth into hinata shoyo

I want Osamu Miya so bad