This Is Love Ft. Kento Nanami

"I have love and dreams too."

*Loud sobbing*

Thank you, Gege Akutami, for sexualizing men so I can follow in your footsteps.

dogs out. zenin toji

fluff ‐ parents au. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ slice of life, mom!reader, unnamed 2yo daughter, megumi is four, and tsumiki is six. preschool teacher!nanami cameo ♡

little sunshines au

"moooooom! the baby took her shoes off again!"

tsumiki's voice has you peeking your head from the kitchen, trying to catch sight of your little girl. you're about to call your husband's name when he walks into the living room and picks your daughter up from the floor.

"dont like 'em?" he smirks, holding her tiny foot up and inspecting it.

she grins cheekily at her dad, proudly wiggling her little toes and showing off the sparkly nail polish on them.

"spaw-cle!"

finally done with the dishes, you join them and see her crocs discarded by the couch.

"again?"

"let her be, ma." toji has her foot against her cheek, both of them giggling at the silliness of it.

"she has to get used to them, toji."

he finally meets your eyes and sees the stern look in them. slowly, he puts your daughter down while she looks at him in confusion. toji doesn't have the heart to force his youngest to do stuff she doesn't like. but after three kids and years of marriage with you, he knows this is a battle he won't win.

"sorry, kiddo."

—

two days later, he's standing by the gates of the kids' school, waiting for them, when he notices something odd.

his face quickly switches from boredom to concern once he spots nanami holding his baby girl in his arms, her face visibly blotched from crying.

"she wouldn't stop taking her shoes off during class. I'm afraid we had to take... drastic measures." the blond man hands her over, visibly tense at toji's reaction. tsumiki and megumi stand next to him with matching frowns, having seen (and heard) their baby sister's cries. "school's policy."

"daddy!" she's bursting into tears as soon as she's in his arms, her watery eyes set on his concerned ones. "want 'em off!"

toji looks down at her feet and sees the brown tape around her pink sneakers, clashing horribly against it and causing him to sigh in defeat.

"baby, you can't keep taking your shoes off." he's patting her back in comfort, letting her sob against his shoulder while he turns to nanami again. "any advice? my wife and I have been struggling for weeks."

having seen this before, nanami recalls a piece of advice given from a couple who struggled with this, too. "try to find a pair that she likes. they don't have to be sneakers—the school isn't strict with that."

and suddenly, toji has a brilliant idea.

—

"princess, c'mere."

both you and your husband enter your daughter's room, sitting on the floor, and she comes closer with her plushie hanging from her hand.

toji places a box in front of her, your demeanor slightly anxious as you wait for her reaction. for a two-year-old, you're aware that she can be the toughest crowd sometimes.

her eyes are fixed in front of her, watching her dad opening the boring, brown box until pink and glitter are all her brain can process.

"woah..." she's clearly in awe, her little hands quickly grabbing the tiny pink heels and slipping them on her feet. "mommy shoes!"

the heels clack loudly against the floor, her steps uncoordinated and clumsy, but she can't stop giggling happily, walking back and forth.

"what did i tell you, ma?" toji's grin is smug, his arms wrapping around you while you play it off with a roll of your eyes. the sigh of relief is obvious from you two. "problem fixed."

he hasn't even finished gloating when you spot megumi standing by the door with his hands covering his ears, glaring ominously at toji.

"don't be so sure, honey."

WEIRD USER!!

So sorry to disturb everyone's spaces on here but if any of you are on twitter, I'm gonna need you guys to please mass report or block these accounts 💀

getoswomb is an artist who fetishizes trans women, women, supports the works of an irl pedophile Hans Bellmer and has compared Gojo and Geto's relationship to him and his sexualized, abused and deformed dolls/paintings of pubescent girls. they've drawn very triggering beastiality as well as sexual abuse and domestic violence. They have over 25.5K followers and someone with such a big platform spreading such harmful shit is disgusting and triggering. They also fantasize and write about rape.

I would not have spread this into your tags if this user wasn't genuinely concerning on an irl level. Keep in mind: THEY SUPPORT THE CREATIONS OF AN IRL PEDOPHILE AND HAVE A 25K FOLLOWING. So if any of you are on twitter, mass block and mass report!

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ⭑.ᐟ A SERENE CELEBRATION, MERRY CHRISTMAS

A younger Bakugou Katsuki had always been certain of his future. At 26, he’d be a man with it all: a nice house, a career as the undisputed Number One Hero, happily married, and maybe, just maybe, a little brat on the way. That was the dream his teenage self clung to—the vision he worked tirelessly to acheive.

At 26, Bakugou stood in the middle of your shared apartment, arms crossed and staring at the half-decorated Christmas tree with a deep scowl. Strings of golden lights glimmered around the tree’s branches, lengths of ribbons are accompanied by shimmering with faux flowers, and ornaments—carefully chosen by you—hung delicately in place.

The problem? The color scheme.

“What’s wrong with red and gold?”

“It’s boring,” Bakugou grumbled. “We do red and gold every year.”

“It’s classic!” you argued, turning to face him fully. “And it matches the rest of the apartment’s decor!”

He narrowed his eyes. He could not believe that he’s having this conversation with you right now.

“We could try something new for once. Like silver and blue.”

You gasped, clutching an ornament like he’d just insulted you personally—even cursed your entire bloodline and ancestors. “Silver and blue? Are you trying to make our tree look like a corporate lobby?”

“It’d look cooler than this,” he shot back, gesturing vaguely at the warm-toned ornaments. “This looks like something out of a cheesy holiday catalog.”

“And what’s wrong with cheesy?” you challenged.

Bakugou opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t actually have anything against cheesy—hell, he secretly loved how excited you got during the holidays. But arguing about it? That was part of the fun, if not a branch of his quality time as a love language.

“Whatever,” he muttered, grabbing a red bauble and hanging it perfectly on the tree. “You’re just scared to try something new.”

You laughed, walking over with another ornament to decorate with. “And you’re just scared because I’m right.”

As Bakugou worked to string the lights around the higher branches, you began unpacking the remaining ornaments from your storage box. You pulled out a small, slightly worn ornament in the shape of a star and held it up with a nostalgic smile.

“Do you remember this?”

He glanced down from the tree, frowning at the star in your hand. “Should I?”

No matter how much he tries to remember, he simply couldn’t recall what made this star so special that you had to ask him if he remembers it.

It’s a star, that’s for sure. A faded one at that.

You sighed, clearly unimpressed by his lack of sentimentality. “It’s the first ornament we bought together. Back when we were... what, eighteen?”

Bakugou paused. It had been a spur-of-the-moment purchase during a rare day off from hero training.

You had somehow convinced him to go with you to wander around a Christmas market, bickering over everything from what food stalls to visit to what decorations looked “cool.” You had insisted on the star, and Bakugou—reluctantly—agreed after a heated argument about which shape of star’s better.

“Are you having a flashback monologue right now?”

That brought out a scoff from him. “Fuck no. Just remembered how you were annoying as hell that day,” he muttered.

“And you were so stubborn, god. You kept saying it was pointless to buy an ornament because I didn’t even have a tree back in my dorm.”

“Yeah, and you said, ‘It's not about the tree; it's about the tradition.’ What kinda cheesy crap was that?”

“It's true, though!” you argued, accepting his hand to place the star gently on the tree’s highest branch. “And now, look. We still have it. And now we can buy all the Christmas trees we could ever want.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

As you continued decorating, the sound of your laughter and playful arguments filled the apartment, giving it a cozy home feel. By the time the tree was finished, Bakugou begrudgingly admitted to himself that it didn’t look half bad—even if it was the same colors as last year, though a decent fortune was spent for it to not be too repetitive.

It’s a good thing his work pays well (you split the cost of decorations equally; he just says that his work pays better even if yours is a lot higher than his).

You stepped back, admiring your work with a satisfied smile. “Perfect. Now, onto the Christmas Eve menu. I was thinking we could do something light this year—maybe roasted chicken and a salad?”

Bakugou groaned, collapsing onto the couch. “Salad? On Christmas Eve? No fucking way.”

“What’s wrong with salad?”

“Is your childhood a bland mess to have salad as one of the main foods? It’s boring,” he said, sticking his tongue out at you when you gave him a pointed look. “We should make something warm and filling.”

“Okay, but you’re helping.”

“Since when did I ever leave all the cookin’ to you?”

Now that he’s 26, standing in the modest yet cozy apartment he shares with you, he realizes that dreams don’t always come in the exact shape you imagine.

Sure, he doesn’t have the massive house he once envisioned, but this apartment—filled with laughter, memories, and the faint scent of your favorite candles—is more of a home than anything his younger self could have dreamed up. The framed photos of your milestones, the shelves of books, and even a few of his hero equipment with the tools scattered on his office—it’s all perfect in a way he didn’t know he needed.

And his career? Well, Dynamight isn’t the Number One Hero yet, but he’s close. Close enough that his younger self would sneer but grudgingly admit it’s not bad.

He’s built a solid name for himself, and he’s done it his way. His rank might not be where he wanted it to be at this age, but he’s learned something more valuable than being the best—he’s learned the importance of balance.

The last part of that dream? The wife? He looks toward the kitchen, where you’re humming some off-tune melody, beginning to prepare what Bakugou’s about to cook with for dinner. The sight of you, so comfortable and almost glowing in your shared space, makes his chest tighten.

He must have a heart problem by this point because it comes at him at the most unexpected times whenever he sees you.

No, he doesn’t have a wife yet. But he’s about to change that.

He’s been thinking about it for weeks now.

He’s got the ring—it’s hidden in the drawer under his socks, where he knows you won’t go snooping.

He knows you’ll say yes, but he would be damned if he didn’t admit that it made him a bit nervous. He knows because you look at him the same way he looks at you: like the world would become lighter and easier to conquer as long as you have the other.

But still, he waits.

Not because he’s unsure, but because he wants the timing to be perfect. Not rushed, not forced. He’s learned to be patient over the years.

“Kats, help with cutting the onions, please!”

“Yeah, yeah. Comin’!”

Soon, he’ll drop the question. He’s not in a rush. This is your life together, and it’s not perfect, but it is just right—chaotic, loud, and full of love. And when the time comes, he’ll make sure you know just how much you mean to him.

But you already know that, don’t you?

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

☔️☔️☔️

(Differences in caretaking…)

I can't pay this month's rent prank on my boyfriend!sukuna

You leaned against the kitchen counter, casually scrolling through your phone while Sukuna towered by the stove, shirtless as usual, making breakfast. His broad shoulders and tattooed arms flexed with every movement, the sheer size of him making the spacious kitchen feel small.

You smirked, the mischievous idea popping into your head. It was time to mess with him.

“Hey, babe?” you started, trying to sound unsure.

“Hm?” he grunted, not looking up from the pan as he flipped the eggs with precision.

“So... I can’t pay my share of the rent this month. I’m really sorry,” you said, putting on your best apologetic voice.

The spatula stopped mid-air. Slowly, he turned to face you, his crimson eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I just... don’t have enough this month,” you said with a dramatic sigh. “Things are tight, you know?”

Sukuna’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and then he straightened to his full, intimidating height. The sight of him—looking thoroughly offended—would’ve had anyone else running for cover.

“Tight?” he repeated, his deep voice dripping with incredulity. “What the hell do you mean ‘tight’? Since when have you ever paid rent?!”

You bite the inside of your cheek, struggling to keep a straight face. “Well, I thought maybe I should start contributing, but—”

“Contributing?!” he barked. He threw the spatula down with a clatter, crossing the room in two long strides to stand right in front of you.

You looked up at him, blinking innocently, while he glared down at you, his massive frame practically eclipsing the light. “Let me get this straight,” he said, his tone sharp. “You think you need to contribute? To my building? The one I OWN?”

You shrugged, barely containing your laughter. “Well, yeah...”

“Y/N,” he growled, his jaw clenching. “You’ve never paid for a single thing in your life. Not rent, not groceries, not even the goddamn Netflix subscription. What’s next? You’re gonna tell me you’re struggling to pay the water bill?”

You blinked again. “How much is water?”

“Oh my god,” he groaned, running a hand through his pink hair like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You wouldn’t last two seconds paying bills. Why the hell would you even say something like this?”

“I just feel bad sometimes, you know?” you said, tilting her head to look up at him.

His expression softened for half a second before he snapped, “You feel bad?! Woman, do I look like I need your rent money?!” He pointed to himself. “Do I?!”

You shook her head, her lips twitching.

“That’s what I thought,” he muttered. He placed his hands on either side of the counter, trapping you between his arms. “Are you in trouble? Huh? Do you need money? Tell me right now, or so help me—”

“I’m not in trouble!” you laughed, unable to hold it in anymore. “It’s a prank!”

Sukuna froze. “What?”

You were laughing so hard you could barely get the words out. “It’s a prank, babe. I was messing with you!”

The room went silent except for the sound of your giggles. Sukuna just stared at you, blinking slowly, his face unreadable. Then he took a step back and ran his hands over his face with a groan. “Unbelievable. I just had a damn heart attack, and for what? For a prank?!”

“I’m sorry!” you said, still laughing.

“You’re lucky I don’t throw you out the window,” he grumbled, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting back a smile. “You’re driving me insane, woman.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down and grabbed your face, pulling you into a searing kiss that left you breathless. His lips were rough, his grip firm, and the sheer intensity of it made your toes curl. When he finally pulled back, you were left staring up at him, dazed.

“For the record,” he muttered, his forehead resting against yours, “you’re never paying for a damn thing. Got it?”

“Got it,” you whispered, your cheeks flushed.

<><><><><> <><><><><><><>

Later that day, you posted a short clip of their interaction online, the internet exploded to say the least.

“NOT HIM BEING OFFENDED THAT SHE EVEN MENTIONED RENT.”

“That kiss at the end??? Ma’am, are you alive?”

“He looks like he eats nails for breakfast but acts like her stress is the enemy. I need this.”

“WHO LET THIS MAN BE SO BIG AND SO SWEET AT THE SAME TIME???”

“He looks like he could throw her and the fridge out of the house, but instead he kisses her like he’ll die without her???”

“No, but the way he said, ‘Do I look like I need your rent money?’ with his whole chest? That’s a MAN.”

“He’s got big ‘pays the bills without letting you lift a finger’ energy. And I mean ALL the bills.”

“This man is built like a WWE champion, but the only thing he’s body-slamming is the stress in her life.”

“He’s definitely rich-rich. Like, ‘owns the whole building and forgot about it’ rich.”

“Imagine pranking the kind of man who doesn’t even look at the price when he buys stuff. Brave.”

“He looks like he’ll fight anyone who even breathes wrong around you. Please prank him again; we need more content.”

It didn’t stop there. People started creating memes:

A still of Sukuna glaring down at Y/N with the caption: “When she says she can’t pay rent, but you literally own the entire block.”

Another image of him pointing to himself, yelling, “DO I LOOK LIKE I NEED YOUR RENT MONEY?” paired with, “Me when my broke friends try to Venmo me for $2.”

i’m SICK of the playboy!au and toxic relationship!au, like wym my faves are as ran through as a train track and have probably created a new type of std 🤔 i need my love interests to stop being mischaracterized bc i fully believe they would be either losers who get no play (shigaraki) or would have no time (or desire) for that kinda thing (gojo, geto, sukuna, aizawa, chuuya, ATSUMU)‼️ looking good and having admirers ≠ whore, i need them in love with ME 💜. ty for coming to my ted talk

၄၃ 𓍯 𓋭 ୨୧ ౨ৎ 𝜗𝜚 𐙚 ྀི ᧔o᧓ ꔫ

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⪩⪨ ೀ 𓋜 ⑅ 𝜗𝒞 ꒰୨୧꒱ Ⳋ᧙

၄⋆၃  ꢤꢆ  ୨९ ୨୧┈୨୧ ೀ　 

೨౿   ᠀𓏲　  ϑ𐑞 　 ꣑୧　  ︶ིྀᩧ ೇ　 

𑁥౿　 ꢾ𓍢ִ໋　  𐒘𝛠　  ϑℓ　  ၄၃

^ྀི᪲　   ୭ৎ　 𝝑𓏲 　 𝝑𝝔　  𝝑𝑒　  

໑᱖ ꪆৎ　  𑁥𓍢　𓊆ྀི󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠 𓊇ྀི 𑁥𓏲

♡ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ୨୧ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ୨ৎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ฅ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ೀ

☆ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⑅ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ♩ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ◌ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ꕤ

𓋜 ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ๑ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ៸៸៸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ‹𝟹 ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ʚ

ꔫ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ 𐂯 ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ◝ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ᵎᵎ

꒰ ꒱ྀི ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ꒰ ꒱ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ૮ ა ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ฅ ฅ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ก ก

‌ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⊃ ⊂ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ՞ ՞ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ‎ﻌ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ﹏