You’re Insecure And Gojo Just Wants To Make You Feel Goo.

hey pooks! Just wanna say you should stay healthy, drink water, stay well, get good sleep, stay off the drugs for a bit, eat good, no energy drinks, and pace yourself off your addictions, I want you to not have a heart attack or worse. I love you!!

Ugh I literally love you. I’ve been going on a little T break for 420 this year (this weekend lfg), but after that I’ll prob go 5 week break. Love you tho, thanks for checking in on me.

(M gonna crawl into your skin and kiss your brain. Ily. Don’t die.)

"I notice i start getting nauseous in the morning and my period is a week late"

Girl i need to fantasies with a hot man that i don't have a chance on, not with a baby,please kill that thing

Larry Johnson at a metal concert.

—How Larry acts and what he does when he's at a metal concert with his gf.

A/n: This is just a little headcannon, but I'm prob gonna self-indulge and make a full fic about it. Just got back from the Atlanta concert for White Chapel, 200 stab wounds, brand of sacrifice, and another band I can't remember the name of. I got my shit rocked in that mosh pit but yk, it was fun. Ppl were passing around blunts in the stairwell beside the parking so that was dope.

During a metal concert, especially a heavy one (like white chapel or 200 stab wounds), yall will either be in the very front or in the back because the center is the mosh pit. And unless you like it, he’s not going in it without you.

He’s the type of boyfriend who will be behind you at the rail, arms either side of you like the whole time. And when they’re crowd surfers, he’s making sure you don’t get kicked or hurt.

Like he is putting his hands up to push the person to the guys end of the stage before you can even think to try and help lift the surfer.

Larry, if you’re in the back and you’re short, will lift you onto his shoulders so you can see. We’ve all seen Larry when they’re like in college, I think it’s chapter four, but man has got some biceps.

Larry is head banging like a mf with you.

He learns how to growl and death growl, and will say “we have Will Ramos at home.”

Larry will grab your hips to pull you close to him if people are being pushy. Like he’s all about concert vibe and the mosh pit n shit, but he’s making sure you’re safe.

If there’s a wall of death? He’s not letting you in it. He’s totally gotten black eyes or stupid injuries from doing that.

Larry who is also fucking you in the car to Sanity’s fall. I mean you are grabbing onto the arm rest between the seats and he’s sitting in the back, hands on your hips and fucking up into you. It’s either really slow because he’s tired or high, or really fast and aggressive because he still has a lot of adrenaline from the concert.

And when you get home, even if he doesn’t want too, you’re forcing him in the shower. Because being shoulder to shoulder and covered in 30 different flavors of B.O is not it.

why is privacy so eroded. I get treated like a nutcase if I say no, I don't want strange companies taking pictures of my home and putting them online for maps or whatever. I don't want to be in the background of your tiktok, and I think it's weirder for you to assume I'm okay with it than it is for me to politely ask you to refilm it so my face isn't in the frame. I don't enjoy handing my employer a list of every online account I have and feeling under surveillance when I'm just shit posting or sharing pictures of my cats or garden harvest. I don't want to hear your private calls on speaker on the bus, esp when the person on the line doesn't know you're broadcasting their words to strangers. I don't want an algorithm guessing what will piss me off the most so I spend more time online, engaging with shit I don't want to see or hear out of outrage. I don't want any of this. it's total ass.

Me when I download a text app so I can make smau where jjk men have to grovel 🤭🤭🤭🤭

Update: holy fuck why are these apps so hard to use??? Why can’t I find good ones? Someone drop me a good app to use so I can make smau’s to fill my delusions. Please.

So instead of bird that got zapped, I’m like a hairless chicken who was wrapped in live wire and then thrown at the president.

I fucking love this holy balls my face hurts from smiling and giggling so much y

welcome back to frat boy, bf! katsuki, but you're taking a nap and you miss his calls for the first time...

k<3 :

u home yet??

2 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

yo. you said you were leavin class 20 mins ago.

stopped somewhere?

4 missed calls – the loml <333

k<3 :

sweet girl. answer me

not fuckin playin

7 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

i swear to fuck if ur phone died again im gonna duct tape a charger to ur bag

10 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

come on

please

just text me

by the time the clock ticks past 10 minutes, katsuki’s spiraling.

he’s already speed-walked home from campus—snarled at kirishima when he offered to tag along, ignored denki yelling something about pizza—and practically slammed the front door open.

he checks every room with increasing panic.

kitchen? empty. bathroom? lights off. your shoes? by the door. your bag? slung carelessly on the couch.

his heart’s in his throat now. he storms to the bedroom and—there you are.

sprawled out across the bed in your favorite hoodie (his, of course), wrapped in a nest of blankets like some cozy little shit, hair a mess, cheek smushed into the pillow. dead to the world.

katsuki just stops in the doorway. halfway between furious and relieved. he exhales so hard it sounds like a curse, raking a hand through his hair. “fuckin’ hell, woman.”

he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, the tiny puff of breath from your lips, the faint twitch of your fingers as you shift slightly, still completely out of it.

he pads over slowly and crouches beside the bed, bracing himself on the edge of the mattress. just watching you sleep like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen and the most infuriating thing he’s ever dealt with.

you don’t even stir.

“called you ten fuckin’ times,” he whispers, brushing your hair away from your face gently, thumb lingering at your temple. “had my heart about to claw outta my chest.”

he glares down at your peaceful expression. “you couldn’t send one goddamn text?”

you snore a little.

he huffs out a soft, involuntary laugh and leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering there for a moment.

“stupid girl,” he murmurs, voice rough now—not angry, just overflowing with that messy blend of worry and love and the kind of fear he doesn’t even want to name.

“you scared the shit outta me,” he says, voice barely audible now.

he kicks off his shoes, strips down to his hoodie, and climbs into bed beside you, dragging you into his chest like he needs to feel your heartbeat under his palm.

and maybe he does.

he buries his face in your neck, breathes you in, and closes his eyes—like maybe if he holds you tight enough, you’ll never slip away without him noticing again.

“you ever ignore my calls again, i’m gonna kill you… then bring you back just to yell at you.”

it takes a minute for your senses to catch up. the first thing you register is warmth—a lot of it. the solid wall of heat behind you, the weight of an arm slung heavy around your waist, a hand gripping your thigh like it belongs there.

you blink awake slowly, the sunlight slicing through the curtains, warm and golden against your cheek. your mouth is dry. your head is foggy. your entire body feels like it sank into the mattress and refused to surface again.

you open your eyes fully, only to find katsuki awake. already looking at you. already scowling.

he’s lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, messy blonde hair sticking up in every direction. his eyes are sharp—wide-awake, unblinking, trained directly on your face.

“you almost died.”

you blink. “what?”

“you almost died,” he repeats flatly, voice low and grumpy. “that’s the only excuse i’ll accept.”

you shift slightly, throat dry. “what are you—?”

“my calls,” he snaps, cutting you off. “my texts. ten fuckin’ calls, sweets. not a single goddamn word.”

you glance over at your nightstand. your phone is there. fully charged. blinking with a whole list of missed notifications.

“oh my god.”

your brain stutters through memories. class had wiped you out. you’d come home, tossed your stuff down, meant to take a quick nap—and clearly crashed harder than you thought. hard enough to sleep through ten calls and a boyfriend having a full panic spiral.

you roll onto your back, face him, voice small. “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t answer. you could’ve passed out, gotten jumped, gotten hit by a fuckin’ car for all i knew.”

your stomach turns with guilt. “i’m sorry…”

he exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face, frustration fading into something a little softer. “i came home ready to break the door down. thought i’d find you hurt or... i dunno... fuck.”

his voice breaks a little on that last word.

your chest aches. you sit up slowly, sliding into his lap and cupping his face with both hands. he doesn’t resist. just leans into you, his arms wrapping tight around your waist like he needs you right there, like it’s the most natural place for them to be.

“i just passed out,” you whisper. “like… sleep coma status.”

“you didn’t even flinch,” he mutters. “thought i was gonna have to check your pulse.”

you snort softly. “i was probably dreaming about you yelling at me.”

he squeezes your thigh, resting his forehead to your collarbone. “not funny. you’re not allowed to scare me like that again.”

you can feel his heart thudding against your chest—still fast, still a little shaken. you lean against him and whisper, voice quiet: “what happens if i do scare you again?”

he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. something soft settles in his expression. that sharp edge in his gaze dulls just a little—not gone, but mellowed, focused. it’s the look he only gives you, like you’re the only thing on the planet worth softening for.

he thinks for a second.

“first,” he says, tone completely serious. “i panic. obviously.”

you snort.

“then,” he continues, brushing a thumb along your jaw, “i break into your phone, make it so the ringtone screams your name at full volume. every time. forever.”

you giggle. “that’s horrifying.”

“i’m not done,” he deadpans. “next, i put a gps tracker in your backpack. and your keychain. and maybe your bra.”

you raise a brow. “my bra?”

“don’t question my methods, woman. i need intel.”

you laugh again, leaning fully into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. he goes quiet. arms wrap tighter around you, firm and warm.

“maybe... i’d hold you like this,” he says, low and sure. “and not let go for a long time.”

you close your eyes as his hand slides up your back, smoothing slow circles into your spine. the rest of the world fades out, tucked away beneath the weight of his embrace and the soft beat of his heart against your cheek.

“and,” he adds, voice barely a whisper now, “i’d make sure you never forget how much you matter to me.”

your throat tightens a little. you bury your face deeper in his neck, smile trembling.

“okay,” you breathe.

“yeah?” he murmurs, holding you a little closer.

“yeah. i promise not to scare you again."

there’s a beat of silence. then—

“good,” he mutters. “’cause i might start showing up to your classes and shit.”

you snort into his shoulder, brushing your fingers through his messy hair. “i promise i’ll keep my phone on ring from now on.”

“you better,” he grumbles, then pauses. “swear to god, i aged five years in seconds.”

you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “you’ll still be hot, even gray.”

he gives you a dry look. “tch. you’re lucky i love with you.”

you grin. “i know.”

his eyes narrow. “oh, do you now?”

and that’s when it happens—he pulls back just enough to stare at you, eyes narrowed, before reaching up and squishing your cheeks between both hands, mushing your lips into a pout.

“you have to say it back,” he barks, holding your face like a grumpy old man scolding a puppy, his thumbs digging into your squishy cheeks. “or i’ll keep doin’ this.”

you try to speak, but it just comes out as a muffled, “i lubb youuuu.”

he snorts, his grin slowly tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“i love you more, sweet girl,” he mutters, releasing your cheeks.

your lips are still puffed out from where he squished your cheeks, but he kisses them anyway—warm and slow and just a little too soft for someone who was grumbling about murder five minutes ago.

his palm stays on your jaw, thumb brushing lazily along your cheekbone, as if he’s still making sure you’re real. your cheeks are still tender from where he squished them, the warmth of his palm lingering.

you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, and you let yourself melt a little further into him.

wrapped up in warmth and safety and the ridiculous, overprotective heart of the boy who loves you more than he knows what to do with.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ this happened to me last week and i missed the opportunity to buy what i want from mcdonalds 💔 (the minecraft toys here are ASS) hope you guys enjoyed, also how do i make them fuck any suggestions 👉👈

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘎𝘰𝘫𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦.

Tw: Cheating, crying yourself to sleep, break up, Gojo is manipulative, happy ending ?

“Fuck you!” You yelled, choking on tears and sobs as you slammed your ex boyfriend’s bag into his chest.

“Babe- please! She didn’t mean anything- this is crazy, you’re over reacting!” The sleaze bag tried to beg, his shitty patience wearing thin.

“No! You- you cheated on me! With my best friend! For weeks!” You shoved him back, your cheeks red, swollen and puffy.

“Baby please, don’t do this to me- to us.” He tried to grab your wrist but you just yanked your hand away before he could touch you.

“I hate you. I hate you so much.” You finally managed to push him out of the door, only to slam it shut and crumble to floor in a puddle of sobs.

You’d found out that your boyfriend- rather, ex-boyfriend, was cheating on you with your best friend Sara. You’d seen the story she’d posted on her Instagram on accident, it was one of her sitting in your ex’s lap, her lips attached to his jaw like a leech.

Three years, 3 long years down the drain. Plus the 8 years you’d been ‘best friends’ with Sara. You were devastated, obviously.

Your face was so red and puffy from crying, and you were yawning between sobs. Feeling exhausted from all the emotional strain that’s been this whole shit show of a day.

You didn’t even notice when your phone started blowing up. All you do was rest against the wall and just cry.

“She still won’t answer.” Gojo stared at his phone, brows furrowed. His friends all gave him a deadpanned stare. This was supposed to be a guys day out but Gojo had sent you a meme that you would usually instantly respond to no matter what situation you were in. So he was immediately alarmed.

And hence why he started spamming you like crazy.

You and Gojo had been attached at the hip since the third grade. Little eight-year old you had met nine-year old him the first day of school.

You were wearing a cute little purple fluffy dress and some white shoes. Your mother had styled your hair so perfect you’d squealed in the mirror when you’d seen it.

And Gojo, bless his filthy rich heart, his family had dressed him up to the nines, obviously, couldn’t have the heir to the family looking like trash. He wore his stupid little suit that made him look stupid adorable.

Between the two of you, he got the most attention. You were a little wall flower. So sweet but so shy. You could barely make eye contact with anybody, let alone Gojo Satoru. Especially not Gojo Satoru.

However, it was recess when he came up to talk to you. Big blue eyes and bright white hair had him standing out like a sore thumb.

“Hi!” He grinned bright, eyes glued to you like he was staring into your soul.

You stared at his chin for the longes moment, before whispering, “hi.”

“What’s your name? I’m gojo!” He put his hands on his hips and gave you a mega-watt grin that would blind anybody.

“You have a cavity.” Your eyes glued to one of his teeth.

“Huh?”

And from then on, the little white haired turd would not leave your side, but vice versa. It was an odd pairing you two made up. But it was sweet.

“Why does it matter? Maybe she’s just asleep or something.” One of his friends shrugged before ordering another margarita.

“No, if she was asleep she’d tell me before going to bed…” he murmured, growing more concerned with your lack of reply.

“Dude, you’re acting like you’re her boyfriend or somethin.” The other friend tilted his head.

“I gotta go.” Gojo got up when he sent his 60th text, but was left on delivered once again.

“Dude you can’t be serious!”

Gojo merely grabbed his coat and sped off to his car. No doubt breaking a billion traffic laws to get to your apartment on the other side of town.

You’d long been passed out again the wall. Exhausted yourself with crying and staring at a picture of you and your ex.

In fact, you were in a deep enough sleep that you didn’t even hear the door open. You’d forgotten to lock it when you kicked your ex out in a rage.

“Hey—…” He stopped talking when he noticed your conked out body against the wall. His chest tightened and his gaze moved from the state of your face down to the picture of you and your ex in your hand.

Sighing softly, he gently scooped you up in his arms before locking the front door. Carrying you to your bedroom, he gently lied you down. Sitting beside you on the bed, he ran his fingers through your hair gently.

“Mm…” slowly, your eyes began to flutter open and you glanced over at Gojo. You only stared at him for a moment before your eyes grew glossy and the tears started to pour again, “Toru.” You whimpered, your voice so small and broken.

“Oh no, sweet girl what happened?” Gojo cooed softly, and wrapped his arms around you tight.

“He- he—“ you couldn’t get a word out as sobs racked through your body. You chest felt so tight and your heart had never hurt so badly before. “-he cheated on me with Sara.” You managed to murmur into his chest. Soaking his button up shirt with your tears.

With your face hidden in his chest, Gojo wouldn’t help but smile. This was perfect— with your boyfriend, or, ex, now out of the way, and you feeling so vulnerable, he could finally swoop in and be the good guy. Granted, this was pretty manipulative. But Gojo had been in love with you since junior year of high school.

However, his heart would always ache when he’d hear your cries, or feel your pain. Of course he’d rather not have you hurting over some douche bag, but this douche bag just paved a way for Gojo to weasel his way into that romantic place in your heart.

He’d take it slow tho.

Gojo held you for hours. Whispering sweet nothing into your hair and rocking you until you fell asleep against him. And Gojo didn’t dare move. He didn’t leave when his arms got tired or when he had to pee. No. He would not miss a chance to have you in his arms.

It’d been a few months since that night, and you and Gojo were closer than ever.

I mean you two were practically living together. You were always at his place or he was always at yours, it didn’t matter.

Not to mention, after your heart got broken by your best friend and your ex you’d become all closed off to others again. Becoming that same shy, sweet little wallflower you were all those years ago.

But you never pushed Gojo away. If anything, you relied on him more. He was the sole person allowed to be as close to your heart as he was. You trusted him with your life.

And Gojo was thrilled.

Everything was going perfectly. Everything. He didn’t mind that you’d gotten all introverted again, in fact he preferred it. It meant no competition for him. You were all his.

But it wasn’t until a movie night between you did something finally happen.

You two were watching some shitty comedy movie, when you looked up at Gojo. Your expression was soft but nervous, eyes glancing over all of his beautiful features. “Toru?”

“Mm?” He hummed in response and looked down at you, his eyes lidded as he glanced between your eyes and your lips.

“I think I’m in love with you.” You whispered so softly, scared if you said it any louder he’d run away.

Gojo stared for a long time, before a slow but wide smile spread across his lips. “Took you long enough.” He whispered back, before gently cupping your jaw and moving closer.

Your eyes stared into his, “promise you won’t break my heart?”

“Promise.”

His lips pressed into yours, and as the slow pace deepened and the positions changed, your hearts locked with one another’s, and finally- Gojo had gotten the woman of his dreams.

i loveeeee substance abuse and rats (as long as they are not near me) as wellllll what a coincidence !!!

OMG BRAIN TWIN BRAIN TWIN!!! (Ilysm🥹)

foods ive been into lately

Hear me out—

(I’m high as shit and I just thought about this)

“Baby can you hear me?” Large hands cradled a pale face. Thumb gently rubbing under your eye. “Come on, eyes open.”

A small groan sounded from your throat, eyes opening— only because they were being pried open by your boyfriend.

“There she is,” Relieved, Gojo sighed softly and rested his forehead against yours. “Thought you’d gone into a coma or some shit.”

“No, get off me you heavy bastard.” You weakly pushed at his shoulders. Your body felt heavy, weak. Your head ached and your eyes throbbed as they got used to the light. “What even happened?”

“You wanted to play fight… and the rest doesn’t matter,” He laughed awkwardly, bright blue eyes looking anywhere but your beautiful face.

“Quit being a knowledge prude. What happened? I can’t remember.” You sat up fully, hand against your head as you scooted down the bed. Legs dangling from the mattress.

Gojo rolled his eyes but his lips quirked into an amused grin, “You can’t remember what happened but you can remember to be a little shit?”

An annoyed smiled forcibly rose to your lips, “little shit huh?”

Gojo stared at you for a few moments, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as he looked away, “I— you ran at me… and I picked up and,” pausing, he peaked at you, then the very big bruise on your head that was slowly starting to knot and slowly, the embarrassment turns to guilt. “And, I dropped you on accident. On the head.”

You stared at him for a moment before looking away. Before little stifled snorts and giggles began to slip.

“Are you— are you laughing?” Gojo looked at you bewildered. Expecting you to be mad, maybe even cry? At least then he could tease you about that then.

“Imagining you actually freaking out and crying over me is kind of funny.” You give him an amused smile. It wasn’t often you could really tease Gojo. But seeing the little red streaks down his cheeks was a major tell tell.

“I did not— whatever.” Leaning forward he pressed his lips to yours o an intimate kiss. Soft at first only move into a deeper rhythm when he leaned in further. Slowly pinning you down on the bed, only to try and run his fingers through your hair—

“Ow!” Quickly pulling away, you held his wrist in a grip to keep his hands away from your sore and bruised scalp. Tears began to spill from your eyes, bottom lip quivering.

“Fuck I’m sorry- you okay?” Quickly moving to cup your cheeks, brows furrowed in concern. “You need a doctor.”

Although, the cries turned to a giggle. It was just too good, after so long of being teased, he fucked up and now it’s your turn. You were going to milk this for all that it’s worth. “You cryin’?”