aeonmnei

[aeonmnei]

im convinced the kuroo tag is dead

[aeonmnei]

got confused in a dialogue and turned it into the other guy getting confused...yeah im a genius...heh

[aeonmnei]

college roommate! hajime iwaizumi filipino head cannons!! 🇵🇭🇵🇭

i’m filipino so yk i just had to! hehe

fluff, slightly suggestive at the end

- he wears tsinelas (slippers), and they make him sound like squidward when he walks around the flat.

- he has a collection of basketball jerseys that he wears when it gets hotter.

- he has very scrumptious muscular calves

- he slightly puckers his lips and uses them to point. it’s soo adorable. sometimes you pretend not to know where something is just to see his that adorable expression. “haji, where’s the remote??”

- one day he visits his parents and comes home with a giant wooden spoon and fork. (i attached a pic below)

- he misses his parents’ food very often so he owns a book of their recipes

- iwaizumi can’t quite replicate his mom’s adobo, but it’s okay because at least you enjoy it.

- he makes you sinigang or tinola when you’re sick.

- once you caught him playing guitar and you forced him to sing for you.

- his voice is HEAVENLY, and you scolded him for hiding it for so long. “haji, you sound like an angel! i’m begging you to learn (song)!”

- now, he gladly learns your favorite songs and gives you private concerts on the balcony.

- when he’s frustrated he’ll groan or curse in tagalog and for no particular reason it sounds so hot. “ay nako!” “susmaryosep!”

- it drives you crazyy when he gets rice and fish/chicken, and he eats with his hands. he licks his fingers clean, collecting every drop of flavor.

——

here’s the spoon and fork LMFAO

[aeonmnei]

ᯓ˚₊ DORIAN'S MIXTAPE ໒꒱

DISC 1 : H. IWAIZUMI

forever : late nights are for loving him | 07.17.24 six thirty : he can only stay mad for a minute | 08.08.24 jars of it : just can't get enough of you | 06.25.25

DISC 2 : O. MIYA

cool with you : it's hot, but somehow it's cool with you | 07.21.24 everyone adores you (at least i do) : when he says everybody, he's really referring to him | 05.11.25

EXTENDED PLAY

a throw-away letter ft. k. akaashi : just don't check underneath the floorboards | 07.24.24 can you stand the rain ft. t. kuroo : everyone loves sunny days, but can you stand the rain? | 05.26.25

DEMOS

filipino!iwaizumi headcanons + pt.2

no reposting/copying/translating my work please!

[aeonmnei]

iwa would be the most infuriating summer BF bc he loooooves the heat and is unbothered by blistering hot temps and prolonged direct sun exposure. he just gets all tanned and glistening and thrives. evil

[aeonmnei]

Thinkin about you

Pairing: Jason todd x fem!reader

Summary:Jason just came home from a long mission and he just can‘t seem to fucking find you in your apartment.

Warning: panic attacks, kissing yk the usual

Wordcount: 2.1k

A/N: had to pump something out since ill see you in a minute is taking a little backseat also abril dont use Frank Ocean songs as your title challenge GO all aside guys i have 100 followers thats insane!!the other day i was just celebrating having 20??? Now100????TYSM:^^

Aight Toodles!

Masterlist

ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE BE AWARE!

Jason kicked the door shut behind him, the weight of two weeks undercover in Narrows scum clinging to his shoulders like a second skin.

He was still in his tactical gear, boots scuffed, knuckles split, lip blood red and raw from him biting it too much and helmet hanging from his fingertips. All he wanted was a goddamn shower and to find you curled up on the couch, half-asleep in one of his old shirts, perhaps waiting on him even when he clearly told you he didn‘t know when he would return with something playing low on the TV that you weren’t really watching.

But the apartment was silent. Still. Too still. He frowned.

“Baby?” he called, his voice hoarse. Nothing. Not even the sound of you rustling around in the tiny-ass kitchen that barely had space for both your bodies when he pressed you against the counter. “You here?”

No answer.

He dropped the helmet onto the couch with a dull thud, scanning the living room- small, lived-in, your touch on everything. Blanket thrown over the armrest. Mug on the coffee table. One of your socks under the edge of the couch. The place looked like you'd just stepped out for a second. But his gut told him otherwise.

Jason moved fast when he was worried. But now in your way too small apart he was bumping into the walls. Bootsteps heavy as he checked the bedroom, the bathroom, the closet you both swore you'd clean out last week. Nothing. No bag missing. No note. No message on his phone, not that he’d had service the last two days. "Goddammit..." he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. The apartment barely fit him on a good day — hell, it barely fit both of you, and that was half the charm. But now it just felt... empty. Wrong. Where the fuck were you? He felt his heart start to race and his breaths start to leave him in short, quick, strong breaths that hurt. Before he could start ripping the walls off of your apartment because maybe-just maybe-you were hiding underneath them as a prank a new thought entered his messed up brain. Maybe joker got to you. Maybe Joker got to….you. And he swore to whatever entity above if joker got his hands on you he would tear Gotham from limb to limb until there were ashes left in place of the godforsaken city. His shaking hands fiddled with his phone to try and call Dick. Dick was still on patrol around the area maybe he could go out and search for you as Jason gets every weapon known and unknown to mankind to torture any of Joker‘s goons for information because any other explanation wouldn‘t make sense to him.

He has you. He has you. He has you.

And maybe you were already dead.

His phone fell from his trembling hands as he tried to pick it up again but his heart was beating too fast his hands were shaking too much snd they were too sweaty snd everything just fucking hurt and why the fuck weren‘t you here? On his knees now his hands found his hair as he digged into the strands.

„Jay?“

His head snapped over his shoulder towards the door and there you stood. Key in hand and your eyebrows furrowed and not a fucking worry in sight about perhaps being captured by the Joker. If Jason couldn‘t breathe before right now he certainly couldn‘t.

His eyes glossed over and he parted his lips to speak but before he could even think of saying anything you quickly close the door behind you, mindful not to actually slam it shut, and stalk towards him as you land on your knees before him. His face contores into a small grimace as your knees scrape against the rough hard wood floor you had. Your nimble hands cradle his face and he can see your mouth moving but he can’t hear anything. His ears are ringing and everything around him was going in and out of focus. All he could actually focus on was you. Your thumbs brushed over the stubble on his cheeks as you tried to get him to look at you- really look at you.

“Jay. Jay, baby? Baby, breathe. It‘s Okay.” Your voice cut through the white noise like a lifeline, soft but urgent and in a whisper, your fingers slipping into his hair replacing his rough ones that pulled at the strands just to ground him.

His lips trembled. You were warm. Solid. Alive. And he was going to throw up.

Jason surged forward, his arms wrapping around you so tight it knocked the air out of your lungs, but you didn’t care and you were quite sure that he didn‘t either. You held him just as tightly, if not more. He buried his face in your shoulder and breathed. In. Out. In again. It was messy, shaky, and uneven, but the scent of you was familiar, grounding and enough to make the world tilt back into focus. Slowly.

"I thought-" His voice cracked. “I thought he had you.”

You felt it then- the wet heat of tears hitting your skin. He had cried in front of you before. Many nights where his nightmares were just too real for him to bear alone. He would softly wake you up and you would hold him as he silently wept into you and you never judged him. Not him or his past. You closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his temple.

“I just went outside for a second,” you whispered. “We were out of coffee. You always want coffee when you get back from a job. I wanted to get you some but i forgot my wallet. Kinda glad i did right now“ a soft chuckle escapes you.

Jason shook his head against you, still holding on like letting go might undo you, might unmake you and all the fragile peace you brought into his chaos. “Didn’t see a message. Nothing. Place was too quiet. I-I thought…”

“I know.” You combed your fingers through his hair again, slow and soothing, like you’d done on the nights the nightmares were too loud. “You’ve been out there too long. Everything feels wrong when you come back.” You place your chin ontop of his head as you keep ranking through the back of his hair.

“It wasn’t just that,” he choked out. “I felt it. That...in my chest. The panic. I couldn’t breathe. You weren’t here. I thought it was like that time. I thought-fuck, I don’t even know what I thought, just that it was happening again. I was there again with him..”

In that warehouse.

With death.

You tightened your grip around him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jay,” you said. “You hear me? You could raze Gotham to the ground looking for me, and I’d still come home to you.” He laughed then, but it was hollow, cracked down the middle, his forehead pressing hard against the crook of your neck. “Don’t say that. You shouldn’t have to come home to this.”

You didn’t say anything for a beat. Just held him. Let him collapse without shame. Because you knew better than anyone that Jason Peter Todd was the strongest man known. But even steel buckles under enough pressure.

Eventually, you pulled back, hands moving to cup his face again. His eyes were bloodshot. His skin, pale. His lip, cracked. He looked wrecked. Destroyed. “C’mon,” you murmured gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He shook his head in a frenzy. “I don’t want to move.”

“We don’t have to go far,” you promised. “Just the bathroom. I’ll draw you a bath. And we can sit. That’s it. Just sit me and you.”

You guided him up slowly, carefully, mindful of how unsteady he was on his feet, when you realised you wouldn‘t get another answer out of him. His grip never left you — one hand tangled in the fabric of your hoodie, the other on your waist. Like if he let go, the floor might open up and swallow him whole and he would be back there.

In the bathroom, you flicked the lights on and turned the faucet. The water hissed into the tub, and the steam quickly filled the room. Jason stood behind you, leaning against the sink. You turned and reached for the hem of his suit. Only now did you realize that he still had it on.

He flinched.

“Hey.” Your voice was soft, coaxing. “It’s me.” Jason closed his eyes. Breathed in again.

Bruises, fresh and healing, littered his torso like a road map of violence. The jagged scar near his ribs, the one that never fully faded, was red around the edges. You didn’t ask if he’d reopened it. You already knew. He had this tendency when he got anxious that he would just sit and scratch away at all of his scars as if it would make them dissapear. He didn’t speak, not for a long while, until your fingers ghosted too gently over one of the deeper cuts.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmured, eyes distant, fixed on the tile.

“You didn’t,” you said. “You won’t.”

“You say that like it’s a guarantee.”

You met his gaze. “You’re not the only one who fights to hold on, Jason. I may not be out there on rooftops or in back alleys, but I fight every day to be here. With you. You think I’d let some clown-faced asshole take that away from me? Take you away from me? I wasn‘t there the first time and i won‘t let it happen a second time.”

He let out a shaky breath, “I love you.”

The words didn’t tumble from him often. Not because he didn’t feel them, but because he felt them too much. Too deeply. Like they were fragile, and precious, and terrifying all at once.

You stepped closer and pressed your forehead to his.

“I love you too,” you whispered. “Now get in that tub before your muscles lock up like last time.” He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

You helped him in and sat nearby, cross-legged on the bathroom floor. The bathwater lapped gently at the porcelain as Jason let himself sink deeper, the tension in his shoulders finally starting to bleed away.

A long silence stretched between you.

Then,

“You really went for coffee?”

You smiled. “Yeah. And those snacks you like.”

He blinked. “The spicy cheese ones?” You nodded. Jason tilted his head back and let out something between a sigh and a laugh. “I really do love you.” “You better. I’m the one who’s gonna be dealing with the tub drain full of your blood and war grime.”

He huffed. “Romantic.”

“Always.”

Afterward, wrapped in a towel and wearing the old hoodie of his you’d swiped years ago, Jason slumped onto the bed. You curled up beside him, throwing the blanket over both your legs.

Your head rested on his shoulder, and his arm wound around your waist, hand brushing against your side absently, like he still needed to reassure himself you were real. That you were there.

“I hate what this city does to me,” he said quietly.

You looked up. Jason frowned.

“How it makes you feel, Jay. How it makes you scared. That’s not weakness. That’s love. That’s being human.”

He was quiet again for a moment. “I couldn‘t stand living without you here. I think i would have gone mad.“ You shifted in his hold.

His eyes met yours.

“You don‘t have to worry about that.,” you said. “You came home, Jay. To me. And i will always be there for you..”

He leaned down and kissed you then. Soft. Barely there. But it lingered.

“Don’t ever disappear on me again,” he said against your lips. You pulled back just enough to smirk. “Only if you promise not to assume I’ve been Joker-napped every time I step out.”

Jason exhaled slowly, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Can’t promise that.”

“I’ll settle for a text next time you’re off-grid.” “I’ll try,” he said. And for Jason Todd, try meant more than most people’s swear.

You both layed there for a long while, tangled in each other and the quiet aftermath of panic. And while the city outside still breathed with crime and chaos, in this tiny, too-small apartment, with your heartbeat steady against his side, Jason felt maybe for the first time in weeks that he wasn’t losing everything.

That maybe, just maybe, he was allowed to have something.

Someone. You.

[aeonmnei]

seijoh 4 summer bf spectrum:

iwa - loves heat loves sun revels in it bronzed glistening adonis style and is basically a lizard on a hot rock

tooru - enjoys the heat and the sun and always gets a lil sunkissed w streaks of highlights in his hair from being outside, but is predictably fussy about how much of it he's willing to tolerate. princess still needs his A/C cranked when he's at home (ESPECIALLY when he sleeps)

mattsun - honestly not overly bothered by the heat and tans surprisingly well. but doesn't love high temps unless it's like a vacay or something

makki - indoor bf. cannot cope with heat even 2 degrees above room temp. burns on overcast days. complains abt heat loudly and to anyone who will listen

[aeonmnei]

daily affirmations:

it’ll pass it’ll pass it'll pass it'll pass it'll pass it’ll pass 𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖚𝖕 𝖔𝖘𝖆𝖒𝖚 𝖒𝖎𝖞𝖆 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖕𝖊𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖗 it’ll pass it’ll pass it’ll pass

[aeonmnei]

throwback to high school chem labs i miss you. not so much the lab reports or high school in general though . kuroo WIP

today, tetsuro manages to finally grab a table near yours, mulling over his thoughts for a bit before turning around with a sheepish smile on his face. “hey, would you mind if we borrowed your scale?” he asks, in what he prays is an easygoing tone. you tilt your head. “your lab partner is getting one,” you tell him, pointing behind him. tetsuro fights to keep a polite look on his face as his partner walks back with a scale in his hands. “ah, sorry. didn’t see, haha!” tetsuro laughs, turning back to you with a good-natured smile. “nice…”  he literally fades off. he was going to compliment something about you, but everyone is wearing the same protective gear, and it’s not like he could say, “nice PPE!” because that would even more of a fumble than what was already happening. tetsuro resorts to two finger guns. “thanks,” he says, trying not to sound awkward, and turns on his heels back to his table.

this is gonna be a long one chat 😩

[aeonmnei]

throwback to high school chem labs i miss you. not so much the lab reports or high school in general though . kuroo WIP

today, tetsuro manages to finally grab a table near yours, mulling over his thoughts for a bit before turning around with a sheepish smile on his face. “hey, would you mind if we borrowed your scale?” he asks, in what he prays is an easygoing tone. you tilt your head. “your lab partner is getting one,” you tell him, pointing behind him. tetsuro fights to keep a polite look on his face as his partner walks back with a scale in his hands. “ah, sorry. didn’t see, haha!” tetsuro laughs, turning back to you with a good-natured smile. “nice…”  he literally fades off. he was going to compliment something about you, but everyone is wearing the same protective gear, and it’s not like he could say, “nice PPE!” because that would even more of a fumble than what was already happening. tetsuro resorts to two finger guns. “thanks,” he says, trying not to sound awkward, and turns on his heels back to his table.

this is gonna be a long one chat 😩

[aeonmnei]

Generations of locking the fuck in.

[aeonmnei]

ⓘ Tip You can skip part of the day by taking a nap.

[aeonmnei]

thank you for the tag!!

np tags: @dearru @angelkiyo @marisolls +anyone who wants to join can join!

tagging game !! ๑₊˚⊹

type aesthetic , character , colour , movie , lyric , and celebrity into pinterest to find your vibe :3

I keep seeing people do these and thought why not make one ! here's mine:

no pressure tags:

@ribbonlovergirl @oopsiedaisydeer @bernardsbendystraws @silverspringsstare @mattsvoicemail @whor3ing @sturns-mermaid @eeyoresturnz @chrisssiren

[aeonmnei]

lwk my iwa posts flop like hell but it's okay...samu can be the breadwinner idgaf (i do gaf)

[aeonmnei]

i've been playing this super cute game called cupid's chatroom by @atelieronthemoon and i love it so much i'm obsessed 🥹🥹 demo on steam and itch.io!

picrew link (maybe i'll upload one where i draw myself?? either way i was super excited when i found this template)

[aeonmnei]

onion rings but it goes to voicemail

[aeonmnei]

clingy and dramatic husband!hajime when he’s sleepy or drunk. you’d never believe it. even he doesn’t believe it. insists he’s not— boy you literally are!!!! it’s not loud or necessarily theatric, it’s just his actions are so … well, we can let them speak for themselves.

— you’re trying to head out to work, but he’s got a day off and he’s grabbing you by the waistband of your pants from the edge of the bed. “come back to bed,” he complains, voice muffled into the pillow. “you don’t need to go to work.” “hajime, i actually do need to,” you reply, trying to pry his fingers off.

he lets out a grumble, still holding on tight. then he turns his face so you can see one sharp hazel eye staring at you. you know that look. it’s all too familiar on these types of days. you will admit, however, that the look works. “ugh,” you mutter, bending down to press a wet kiss to his cheek, lips curving into a reluctant smile. “good bye. i love you.” “i love you, too,” he calls with sleepy affection, letting his arm drop.

— he’s laying on your body on the couch, face nestled into your chest on a scorching day. “haji,” you whisper. “get off. it’s hot.” “no,” he mumbles, moving to bury his face in your neck. you sigh. “i’m serious, hajime, i’m sweating really bad.” his arms snake around your waist. “no,” he says, louder. “ha. ji. me.” you place emphasis on each syllable in his name. “let me go.” “‘m not hajime,” he replies.  

you furrow your brows. “yes, you are. c’mon, it’s boiling in here.” you try to push him off, to no avail. you take a deep breath. “babe,” you start. “mm.” hajime shifts slightly. “please get off me,” you request, patting his back. hajime grumbles, not answering. a bead of sweat rolls down your forehead. “what do you want from me?” you wail, fanning yourself. 

“i want you to call me baby,” he says, mouth in your armpit. 

— after a seijoh team video call where they catch up and drink together, hajime is totally and completely hammered. usually he’ll stop drinking around the time he gets warm and cuts it off there, but it was a really long call and everyone ended up drunk. including him.

“seriously,” you say under your breath, watching him across the kitchen table as he sips on the soup you made for him. hajime glances up at you, cheeks rosy, then frowns. “your face,” he starts, setting down his bowl. “are you mad at me?”

“i’m not mad at you,” you reply. “hmm,” hajime grumbles doubtfully, putting his face on the table. he stays like that for a moment, then tilts his face up so he can look at you. “you’re so far away. come closer.” “i’m across the table,” you remind him. “too far,” he insists, reaching out (his elbow isn’t even on the table). “can’t reach you.” “haji, you’re not even trying.” 

— outside of the doors of the home you two share, he’s back to what everyone else usually sees. calm, reserved, almost stoic at times, but still loving and caring. definitely not what you witness on lazy mornings, or sweltering afternoons, or quiet nights.

it’s like spraining your wrist hula-hooping. “why are you telling me this?” because no one. will ever believe you