sinarose

[sinarose]

you decide to mess with satoru a little while the two of you are out walking — just a quick test for your own amusement.

“oh”, you gasp out of nowhere and nudge him while pointing off to the side (at absolutely nothing). “look at that girl — she’s so hot”, you say, and then wait, watching to see if he’ll take the bait and glance over.

but he doesn’t even flinch. instead, he pulls his phone out casually, aims it at you and snaps a picture of you. then holds it up to your face and says “check this one out — biggest hottie i’ve ever seen ;)”

later though, he pouts and acts all offended, going on and on about how you actually looked while he didn’t.

(he tricked you better. that bastard.)

[sinarose]

athletic trainer and godzilla fan iwaizumi hajime !!

[sinarose]

tw: cheating accusation

“Are you fucking her?”

Katsuki stands. With a slow, deliberate movement, he places both hands on the table and leans forward, those vermilion eyes finding yours in an unblinking stare.

“You wanna repeat that?” his lip arches in disgust, “Because I’m pretty sure I misheard you.”

Your heart beat buzzes across your skin. Anxiety eats at you, but the anger and pain pushes you forward. “Are you fucking her?" 

Bakugo doesn’t move, but the vein on his jaw grows more defined as he grinds his teeth together. "Why would you ask me that?”

“You’re not saying no.”

Keep reading

[sinarose]

[sinarose]

・❥・+18 (not sfw, mdni); Ukai x f!reader; older brother's best friend, secret romance, oral (reader giving & receiving), Ukai POV, overstim, spit kink, bit of breeding kink (no mentions of pregnancy), lightly possessive Ukai if you squint; this was supposed to be a two paragraph drabble until it wasn't; wc: 1.1k

older brother’s best friend ukai keishin who hasn’t seen you around since you left this small town for college. he heard from your brother that you’re doing well, that you’re coming back to help out with the family business for a few months, but other than that he’s not really sure what’s been going on in your life. in ukai’s mind you’re still the kid from back then, always on his and your brother’s heels, with your knees scraped and the hand-me-downs, whether it was your old squeaky bike or the clothes you wore.

do you remember me, keishin?

he looks up from the newspaper he’s reading behind the register, blinking at you slowly, a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. it takes him a few heartbeats, just trying to match your appearance now with the girl from back then, the girl who cried at her graduation, the girl with the big dreams and the desire to leave everything and everyone behind. he says your name like a spell and the smile that spreads across your face unfurls something he had tucked away carefully for years. 

you’re a vision. it’s clear that the time spent away did you well. the air around you is completely different now, there’s a certain maturity to you, a glow from within that wasn’t there before, a light in your eyes. leaving this place has allowed you to break free from your cocoon and grow into the person you were always meant to be. ukai feels his chest tighten and he swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. he knows you, always did, and yet it’s like he’s meeting you for the first time. your arms wrap around his neck in a clingy hug just the same.

it’s almost unfair how effortless you fit into his life, like a puzzle piece that had been missing. dropping by at the sakanoshita store to grab ingredients for dinner, helping him hang up flyers around town to raise funds for the karasuno volleyball team, picking you up when your car breaks down and your brother doesn’t answer his phone so of course you’d call ukai. he’s making time and space for you in his everyday routine while ignoring the growing remorse he feels towards his brother.

after all, it’s only a matter of time until ukai breaks. 

“your brother can never know about this,” while he kisses you feverishly in a dark corner of the garden at your brother’s wedding. you taste sweeter than anything he ever had a flavor of, drowning out the guilt that coiled in the pits of his stomach. he probably shouldn’t be doing this, you’re his best friend’s little sister damnit, but he knew from the moment you dragged your heels against his leg under the table that he would never be able to resist you. 

“your brother can never know about this,” while he has you pinned underneath him in the backseat of his car, your panties around your ankles and three of his fingers buried in your pussy. the sounds escaping your mouth are nothing but obscene and have him straining his pants, a damp patch forming where he came undone earlier. you’re making a mess out of yourself, leaking all over the seats and the fabric of his pants, trembling and whining while you’re begging him to make you cum one more time. you’re greedy and he’s just the same. 

“your brother can never know about this,” while you’re kneeling between his spread legs, cheeks hollowed out while you suck him off. ukai is on the phone with your brother, discussing something about the upcoming training camp, his knuckles white from the way he’s gripping the back of your head and pushing you down until your nose is nestled against his pubes, your eyes watering slightly. you’re so good at this, barely making a sound except for the small gasp for air when he allows you to pull back, watching you alter between kitten licks and sloppy kisses pressed against his shaft. the guttural moan that leaves him from deep within the moment he hangs up the phone is your cue to take him again, deeper, harder, letting him use your mouth until he’s close, so close, pulling out only so he can cum all over your pretty face.

“your brother can never know about this,” while he sucks on your tits through the fabric of your sundress, making you beg for his cock while you grind against his thigh. it’s summer and the air is as sticky as your dripping cunt, and even though this has been going on for months, ukai still can’t believe sometimes he gets to have you like this, perched in his lap, nimble fingers unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans just enough to make his cock spring free, resting heavy against his stomach. he tilts your head back with a big hand gripping your chin, tapping your cheek with one finger and you open up for him so obediently, letting him spit in your mouth before he kisses you like he wants to devour you. you’re a good girl, you know how to ask if you want something, but more than anything you also know what you want and how to take it. you sink yourself down on his cock and let out an airy laugh, clenching hard around him, and he dreams of having you like this forever. 

“your brother can never know about this,” while he’s impossibly deep inside you, your shaky legs draped over his shoulders, folding you up like origami on his bed. he’s fucking you as if he wants to mold himself inside your being, making you remember the shape of him. ruin you for everyone else, some darker desire bubbles up within him. you chant his name while you’re dancing on the edge of your orgasm; he can tell from the way your eyes get hazy and lose their focus, your kisses getting sloppier, your cunt tightening almost painfully around him as if you want to milk him dry. and oh, how willing he is to give you all of him; harsh thrusts of his hips, whispered sweet and dirty nothings against the shell of your ear, his cock throbbing deep within. where do you want it, and your answer is always the same; inside, not wasting a single drop, stuffing you full until you’re dripping from him the rest of the day. 

ukai is not sure for how much longer you two can keep this a secret or for how much longer you’re staying in town. but he’ll be damned if he lets you get away now that he gets to have you in a way he never dared to dream of. he doesn’t know if it’s love or infatuation, but what he does knows is that he’d sink to his knees to find the answer between your thighs and your parted lips, one open-mouthed kiss at a time, with your fingers tangled in his hair and dripping for him like honey.

a/n: some blond man loving demon possessed me writing this i'm afraid and now i can't get him out of my mind. @megapteraurelia afraid to tag you because you always seem to make my brainrot even worse (ily)

[sinarose]

・❥・yearning iwaizumi, gn!reader, established relationship, brief mention of non-sexual nudity, wc: 611

“hold still,” iwaizumi murmurs, his voice a low grumble. 

his brow is furrowed in concentration, his breath hot against the nape of your neck while he fumbles with the clasp of your necklace. he curses a little under his breath when he doesn’t quite get it right the first few tries. it’s not like he’s nervous, standing this close behind you���he’s had you in a thousand different ways before that–it’s just that your familiar scent is making him lose focus on the task at hand. the smell of your shampoo, a spritz of your favorite perfume (it’s his favorite, too) and something so uniquely you, it’s engraved into his memory. 

the mirror is still a little fogged up from his shower but you’re still watching him through it, an amused gleam in your gaze. he knows exactly what you’re thinking and he lets out a low huff, his lips curling into a small grin. 

“you simply love to see me suffer,” he scoffs but there’s no malice in his voice, only pure devotion. 

“only a little.”

iwaizumi leans forward, pressing soft kisses against the side of your neck and your shoulder, not missing the way your breath hitches. water drips on your bare skin from his still damp hair but you don’t protest, only tilting your head to the side to grant him better access. the clasp of the necklace closes with a small click and iwaizumi’s arm wraps around you. his hand, big and a bit calloused, now rests against your throat, your pulse point a steady throbbing underneath his fingertips. thick fingers draw slow, gentle patterns against your skin. 

his other hand finds your hip, pulling you a little closer. your form melts so effortlessly against him, sweet like molasses, as if he carved out part of his being to make room for you, room for your heart beating his name in morse code.

his sharp canines drag over your skin, leaving a faint red trail behind, charming out one of these sweet sounds you make for no one but him. it’s a silent declaration of adoration, not possession–he doesn’t own you, but he can’t deny that a part of him wants to leave a mark on you, something for his and your eyes only. maybe a quiet plea to let him give in to this all-consuming feeling rattling in his chest. it runs deeper than love; it devours him, forcing him to his knees. 

if he had to, he’d spend his whole life spelling out his feelings for you. with his lips against the nape of your neck, and his fingers tracing down your spine, and his gaze so fiery it makes you feel like drowning. 

if he had to–but you already know, arching into his touch, and iwaizumi lets out a soft sigh, coaxing you to tilt your head back. his lips find your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses from there to the soft spot behind your ear while his fingertips brush against the necklace resting against your collarbone. he can feel you smile and lets out a quiet, hoarse laugh when your hand slides over his, tapping his ring finger in a silent but playful question.

“impatient, aren’t we?” he mutters as he leaves a few open-mouthed kisses against your neck, his hand now wrapping around yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles in a soothing manner. there’s a small velvet box sitting in the drawer of his nightstand, but for now he’s not quite done with kissing you just yet, not until he pushes you up against the bathroom counter with your hands tangled in his hair, vows sweet like honey dripping from your lips.

[sinarose]

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐄. જ⁀⋆｡˚⊹

featuring ukai keishin .ᐟ

2.8k words

content warnings: domestic fluff → smut, oral (male receiving), a sprinkle of exhibitionism (he's on the phone while getting a blowjob), nipple play (both male & female!), penetrative sex, calling him "coach" as a tease...

author's note: when i'm in a slump, i default to my first love, my favorite blonde. new blog, same whore for ukai (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾ lol. i hope my new blog won't get shadowbanned from his tags.

Warm sunlight bids you good morning, and you turn over to avoid the bright rays slithering through the blinds. But the sun wins, and your body begins to stir, a set of slow blinks ushering you into the day. To your disappointment a certain blonde isn’t beside you. At least he had the decency to pull the duvet back up to keep you warm despite going back on his agreement to spend a lazy morning in bed. 

You put on a random t-shirt, far too big to be yours, but hey, if it’s on the bed, it’s fair game. Rubbing the last bit of sleep out of your eyes you find Keishin laid back on the couch, sweatpants riding low on his hips and his hair unkempt without the usual headband. Apparently a shirt wasn’t necessary for him this morning (not like you were complaining about the view anyways). On either side was paperwork, and with one hand he analyzes a small whiteboard of the starting lineup while the other holds his cell phone up to his pierced ear.

You cross your arms and give him a half-hearted glare. Keishin smirks, letting his eyes rove over your body, slowly and shamelessly until you give up and pad over to the fridge for some water.

“Listen, Specs, I want the boys to start hitting pipes and opposite shots. We need more ways to score. We can’t always lean on Hinata and Asahi in the front row.” He pauses, scribbling something on the whiteboard as Takeda talks into his ear.

“No, no, no we’ll keep running the 6-2 for now, it works great. I’m just saying we need to develop new skills, you know… put some more weapons in our arsenal or whatever the saying is.”

You won’t lie—something about Keishin stepping into the role of coach is oddly… attractive. He was hesitant at first, sure, but damn if he didn’t own it now. Yet that wasn’t the part that made your insides turn warm and soft, it was the sight of him finding his passion — the bonus was seeing his paternal nature with 12 lively boys that kept him on his toes everyday. 

His chest rises and falls with a sigh, the white board being tossed aside and a hand coming up to twist a lock of hair. A fairly new stress habit he’s developed.

“You’re going to get a bald spot if you don’t stop doing that,” you muse as you slide onto his lap, the motion fluid because you’ve done it plenty of times. Gently nudging his hand aside makes him grumble quietly, still listening to the rambling teacher on the other end of the now muted line while his eyes are on you. 

“How long have you been up?” 

“A while.”

“How long is a while,” your hand that was massaging his head slips down to his ear, pinching the very tip for his roundabout answer. 

“A few hours.”

“It’s 8 o’clock, Keishin. You agreed to sleep in.”

“I know, something came up and I couldn’t go back to sleep,” he takes your hand and kisses the palm as an apology. “Did I wake you?”

“No but you should come back to bed. I wanna cuddle.” Without waiting for his answer you move in to kiss along his neck, noting the stubble on his jaw, and he made no attempt to stop you either, a hand sliding down your back before moving to your hips. When it ventures further, gripping the round flesh of your ass, he realizes that something was missing.

“No panties?” You couldn’t see his face, but from his tone you could picture his tilted smile, the amusement humming with his voice along his throat.

“I should be asking you where they are, since you threw them to God knows where last night.” A nip to his neck is revenge for the slight but it doesn’t faze him at all.

“Uh huh,” he starts, not having a single care about being blamed. He grabs the back of the t-shirt and pulls you away so he can eye you carefully, inadvertently (or maybe intentionally) causing it to rise just enough to show your cunt. His eyes drift down for a second and come back up with a tip of his brow. “Is that my shirt?”

“And if it was?”

“I’m gonna start charging you a fee for wearing my clothes.”

You scoff. The idea was stupid and a lie. Keishin intentionally leaves his clothes out and about for you to wear as you pleased; it’s his weird way of claiming you any chance he gets. Going on a quick run for groceries? Take his jacket. Need some shorts to lounge around in? He’s got five for you to pick from. Want a t-shirt to sleep in? (which he hopes you do every night if you’re not sleeping naked— fuck wearing sexy pajamas) there’s one already waiting on your side of the bed...

Eventually he’s sucked back into coach matters on the phone but you remain there, on his lap, listening to how his voice muffled in his chest, feeling his chest expand with every breath and steady heartbeat. 

Until you can’t bear it any longer. 

It started out as subtle shifting, adjusting your weight so his legs wouldn’t hurt, until a certain position adds the right amount of pressure against your core. Then, you thought he wouldn’t mind if you place a string of kisses to his tender neck once more, earning a low hum in response as he continued his phone call.

When that doesn’t garner the attention you wanted, you slide off his lap, effortlessly sinking to your knees right between his legs. Keishin only cocks an eyebrow.

You tug at the waistband of his sweats, sending a clear message that makes him settle back into the couch a bit more and lift hips just enough so that you can free his dick.

He doesn’t wrap up his phone call, nor does he stop you as you lazily stroke him to life. He watches, tilting his head slightly and drawing in a deep breath when run your tongue over his tip. You tilt your head too, planting another line of kisses up the side of his shaft.

A hand comes to rest at the nape of your neck, lightly tugging your hair to get you to look at him. “Gimme a minute,” he mouths. But you, his menacing little doll, was so impatient and couldn’t resist the opportunity to give him sweet torture. So you don’t give him a minute, only a few seconds before your mouth wraps around his pink tip like a warm hug.

The warmth alone makes his hips twitch, then add the sight of you on top of that and well, let’s just say he’s fighting every urge in his body to pick you up and fuck you through the couch, phone call be damned. Which he is a repeat offender of doing and he doesn’t want it to be added to his long list of bad habits.

An agonizingly slow pace is set, and with every shallow bob of your head you pause the top and let your tongue do a twirl around his tip. Your mouth does all the work, albeit only covering half of his length because you’d rather not gag this morning, so your hands busy themselves with caressing his muscular thighs. One deviates, rising upwards only to gently rake down his abs, which tense with a soft hiss from the blonde. 

They were so delectable you thought about pushing him down on the couch and grinding against them to your heart’s content. Another day maybe…

You hear him mute the phone again, gaining your attention. “Baby…” It’s low, strained. Somehow a plea and a warning at the same time. If you don’t stop slobbering all over his dick right now he won’t be able to keep his composure, and he was sure Takeda would be too flustered to look him in the eyes next time if the teacher hears everything he wants to do to you.

You don’t let up.

 At first he thinks you’re sparing him when you pull away, until you go lower and do a particular move he secretly enjoys (not really, it’s so obvious). Your tongue swirls all over his heavy balls before sucking one gently into your mouth, all while rubbing a thumb over the hole of his leaky dick, idly smearing the precum around.

A strangled grunt and a buck of his hips is enough to reaffirm your suspicions of his weakness. You give the other similar treatment, this time humming and trying to fight back a smug grin when he hisses softly and his eyebrows furrow.

You don’t think he’s ever hung up a phone call quicker, barely even giving Takeda a goodbye. 

“Such a goddamn tease,” he mumbles, his frustration building when your eyes shine and face crinkles with a smile, not even bothering to wipe the spit hanging from your lip. Keishin’s grip at the nape of your neck moves to the front, holding your neck with just enough pressure on one of your pulse points to make you feel a bit woozy. “You couldn’t wait five minutes, baby?”

“No,” the word soft like the way he tugs you back on to his lap. “Don’t want me to finish helping you down there?” A lick is delivered to the shell of his ear with the question, as if your honeyed voice and oh so  kind offer made you an innocent doll. You were anything but, especially with the way you were dragging your wet pussy along his shaft.

His hand finds the back of your t-shirt again, gripping it so tight it strained against your breasts in the front. Like a naughty kitten, you’re pulled off of his lap just enough so that he can line up his throbbing dick with your cunt, giving the wet folds a few taps as if he was knocking for permission. “You’ve done enough helping.”

“You needed a destresser, Kei. You’re already gonna have bad lungs, I can’t have you croaking out with a bad heart either.”

“The only thing stressing me out right now is the fact that I'm not buried in that pretty pussy of yours yet,” he huffs before pulling you back down. He doesn’t take his time working it in, inch by inch, like usual. It’s one smooth motion until he’s nestled as deep as your body would allow. “Tight as ever. Thought I stretched you out real good last night.”

“Mmm… maybe you weren’t thorough enough, Coach.” 

He throbs, once. Then Keishin tries to keep his cool façade with a chuckle as he throbs again. That nickname gets him every time. “Yeah? Let’s run through some extra drills then,” he retaliates with a brisk tempo, threatening to come all the way out of your tight cunt, and pulling you back down with a rough tug on your hips.

“Oohhh, fuck,” the moan slips out easier than you would like, and a smirk appears on that annoyingly handsome face of his. 

One point for Keishin.

The bright idea of playing with his nipples comes to mind. It’s a surprise, leaning in to nibble and suck on his ear to distract him from the hand that snakes back up his pecs, circling a finger around one and then gently pinching it.

A groan slips from his lips—one he might consider embarrassing, but to you, it’s nothing short of heavenly. The sound spurs you on, making you bounce harder in his lap, chasing every delicious friction he has to offer.

“You’re not playin’ fair, baby. That’s my job,” he mutters, voice low and ragged as he grips the hem of your shirt again. And when you catch the faint pink rising in his cheeks, you know you’ve earned a point.

However, Keishin was never one to be outdone.

With one smooth motion, he pulls the shirt over your head and tosses it aside. His hands waste no time, rough palms kneading your breast with practised ease before his mouth finds it, sucking and laving his tongue over the pebbled bud like he’s starving. Don’t worry, your other breast receives attention too, he’s sure of that by rolling the peak between his fingers. 

He has claimed to be an “ass man” numerous times, this claim mostly directed to his friends when they're three beers deep at the bar, but the way he’s wrapped up in your chest every time you’re like this? Yeah, no. You’re calling bullshit.Especially now, with the pace slowing just so he can focus, switching to your other breast with reverent, greedy licks. Eyes shut, breath heavy, that earlier pink flush now a full-blown red that creeps up to the tips of his ears. His eyes closed in concentration, that pink dusting now a red that has spread to the tips of his ears.

Yup, he was a boob guy. 

The thought makes you chuckle and consequently he releases you with soft pop and a little glare, hands retreating to your rear even though his cover had already been blown.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing.”

He doesn’t let your answer slide, though. His hands stay firm on your hips as he leans up, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw. “You’re laughing at me,” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath making your skin prickle.

“I’m not,” you say softly, threading your fingers into his hair. “Just thinking... you always say you’re an ass man, but you’re giving my girls more attention than usual.”

He chuckles, low and a little sheepish. “Maybe I was wrong,” he admits, nose brushing against yours. “Maybe I just like whatever part of you I’m touching.”

The way he says it—quiet, almost reverent—makes your chest tighten. Not just from the heat simmering between you, but something tender blooming underneath. He looks up at you then, eyes heavy-lidded and soft, like he’s seeing something more than just bare skin.

“You always do that,” you whisper, brushing your thumb across his cheek.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel like the only girl in the room.”

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your sternum, then another between your breasts. “That’s ‘cause you are.”

There’s a pause — gentle, charged, intimate. The silence wraps around you both like a weighted blanket. His hands roam slowly now, not with urgency but intention. And when he looks at you again, there's something raw there. Unspoken. Understood.

“Let me take care of you today,” he says, voice low and steady. “Not just… y’know.” A lopsided grin tugs at his lips,it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “All of you.”

You pause, fingers tightening slightly in his hair. He’s trying to play it casual, but the cracks show. The kind of tired that a full night’s sleep can’t fix. The tension in his shoulders. The quiet sighs he thought you wouldn’t notice. His body is carrying more than just desire. The exhaustion, the pressure, the weight of every damn thing he’s been holding in.

So instead of nodding and grinding down into his lap again, you cradle his face in both hands, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. “Let me take care of you, Kei.”

His breath catches.

“I mean it,” you continue, softer now. “You spend all your time worrying about everyone else — your team, your store, your crazy old man — but when’s the last time someone asked what you needed?”

He blinks, like the words physically knocked into him. His hands still on your waist.

“I’m here,” you murmur, leaning forward until your forehead presses against his. “Not just for the fun parts. Even when you’re stressed. Even when you’re quiet.”

He swallows, throat bobbing under your touch. “I didn’t mean to let it spill over,” he admits, almost a whisper. “Just—too much lately. Couldn’t turn my brain off.”

“You don’t have to,” you say, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You can just be here. With me.”

For a moment, neither of you moves. The morning light spills gently across his shoulders, casting a golden sheen over bare skin and tousled hair. It’s quiet, but it’s full—of understanding, of comfort, of the kind of intimacy that isn't rushed.

Then Keishin exhales slowly, the tension in his muscles finally loosening beneath your touch. “You’re dangerous,” he murmurs against your collarbone. “Getting me soft like this when you’re sittin’ on my dick.”

You laugh, a warm, breathless sound. “Shut up and let me make you feel good, Coach.”

And this time, when your hips start to roll again, it’s slower. Less about chasing a high and more about savoring each second—each breath, each heartbeat, each unspoken promise exchanged between bodies that know each other too well to pretend this is just physical.

[sinarose]

Spy x Family Episode Idea 💡 🎂🎉🎊🎁

(Plus some art at the end 👀)

I need a Spy x Family episode where Yor’s birthday is approaching and Loid of course knows and is prepared to make it special for her (to keep up their fake marriage for the mission of course). He gets her flowers and gifts and a card with help from Anya, and they cook all her favorites and plan a day out with all her favorite activities. Loid doesn’t leave a stone unturned in terms of birthday festivities, having read up on all the important things to do. They plan it all as a surprise for when she gets home from work, with Franky and Yuri (upset Loid is trying to “one-up” him) also there.

Yor, who completely forgot about her own birthday, comes home to a round of surprises with Yuri jumping in front. To which her instincts kick in and she panics and sends him flying with a kick to the chin.

Funny antics ensue until she calms down and realizes what’s happening and they all have a sweet family moment enjoying the party and Yor is happy and loved as she should be

Then the party is dying down, Franky and Anya are asleep on the couch and Yuri has gone home early to nurse the small concussion he got. Loid is cleaning up quietly and Yor thanks him genuinely for everything- she’s never had a real birthday party before after all… at least with people to celebrate it with besides Yuri. She talks about how grateful she is to have a family, even if it’s just pretend- it’s still given her real joy and purpose that makes celebrating birthdays more than just a mark of getting older. Loid is of course is happy the day went well, and that Yor is continuing to be content with their life together. He certainly doesn’t feel anything else when he sees the happy, genuine smile on Yor’s face- definitely not.

They finish cleaning and Yor says she wants to throw Loid an even greater party on his birthday to thank him. Loid smiles, then for a moment he pauses. He racks his brain for a moment, coming up empty. Loid Forger certainly had a birthday, it should’ve been the first thing to come to mind with the list of all his other extensive informations for the character. But instead he’d tried to think of his true birthday, the one he’d buried with his past self. The one he wished he could remember now and give to Yor instead of a lie.

He reassures her when she notices him lost in his thoughts, putting on his practiced smile, saying he’d enjoy that very much.

Then the next adventure is Yor realizing she doesn’t actually know Loid’s birthday and feeling too ashamed to ask, decides to go on a goose chase to try and figure it out lmao

[sinarose]

hello blue lock nation

[sinarose]

Heheh~

[sinarose]

[sinarose]

studies day 15

[sinarose]

you would think something that's "super natural" would be really really normal. but it's not that

[sinarose]

been rewatching/catching up with bnha recently and i am duly reminded of how much i loved this guy

[sinarose]

“look of love” / iwaizumi hajime

the smallest curve at the corners of his lips. the dimple on his right cheek that’s just barely there, so subtle he rarely ever smiles hard enough for it to show. with his smile comes the faintest color of pink that taints his cheeks with a warm glow. his eyes soften just ever so slightly around you, shifting from their sharp and intimidating pierce to a comforting downturn. a sign of the ease he feels at your side, of his guard being let down. the knit in between his eyebrows softens, smoothing out from their usual furrow. his face isn’t his usual cool, collected, serious gloom. instead, he lights up. he becomes warmer. welcoming. an invitation for you to accept his love, take it for everything it’s worth. an opening, a show of the vulnerability he usually keeps hidden so deep down inside. accompanied is a soft chuckle at the words you speak. the sound would seem foreign to anyone else, something so soft and gentle coming out of his mouth. but it’s normal with you. everything feels natural when it involves you. it feels right. his love is so tangible in the way his olive green gaze follows you and only you, almost as if they’re programmed that way. programmed to admire every inch of you from head to toe, even the smallest of details. not one part uniquely you goes unnoticed to him. no matter if there’s the most gorgeous sunset view in the horizons above, or a wonder of the world for all he cares, he can’t bother to waste his time looking at it. not if you’re right beside him. why would he? he’d much rather notice the way the orange-pinkish gleam of the fading sky highlights the bridge of your nose, the color of your eyes, and the way it makes you even more radiant than you usually are. the sun sets every evening, doesn’t it? but there’s only so many times he can enjoy moments like these with you, listening to the beautiful song that is your voice and admiring the work of art that is you inside and out. so he’ll keep giving you his love until he runs dry. through his own small ways, his fleeting gazes and gentle smiles.

that’s iwaizumi’s look of love. for you and you only.

a/n: no. 1 party anthem. actual tears running from my eyes. m.list

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[sinarose]

idk obsessed with the idea of older brother sukuna feeding yuuji bad (?) sex advice

[sinarose]

found an image from the movie Painted Skin on pinterest and Immediately thought of Zuko in his Firelord era, so I drew it bcs why not and damn it fits so much jsjs

I tried to play a with a little bit of a meaning to the piece, attempting to make zuko look fierce and stuff while his reflection has more of an insecure and scared expression. Y'know, typical Zuko shit.