siriuslywounded

[siriuslywounded]

tag of the week:

@deathdefyinglifeleaps :

#no gossip in the lan clan because they just look at you like that and don't need to say shit ✳

[siriuslywounded]

[siriuslywounded]

vintage stamps

[siriuslywounded]

Okay. Here, have Jayce uhh... in this t-shirt

I got inspired by one particular reference AND this twixter post. I don't remember anything after. I'm sorry

[siriuslywounded]

Okay so i listened to suggestions about Jayce being unhappy with the inflicting pain bit but being unable to say no!

[siriuslywounded]

Some snow scenes in Claude Monet’s paintings.

[siriuslywounded]

Water Lilies painted by Claude Monet (1840 - 1926)

[siriuslywounded]

Poor sasuke

Got the tweet from @narutwitter

I just had to draw it T.T

[siriuslywounded]

Okay, I might be dumb for realising it so late, but the post war Aizawa and Yamada duo is just a pirate and his annoying loud bird.

[siriuslywounded]

୨⎯ Stay a Little Longer ⎯୧

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes of gold across the bedroom. You stirred, squinting at the clock. 5:45 AM. Too early, but you had things to do. A long mission awaited, and every detail had to be perfect.

Carefully slipping out of bed, you reached for your duffel bag, hoping not to disturb the man still sprawled under the covers. You hadn’t even zipped the bag halfway before a low, gravelly voice broke the quiet.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You turned to see Shouta Aizawa sitting up, his dark hair a tangled mess and his eyes heavy with sleep. His gaze softened when it met yours, though he quickly masked it with his usual deadpan expression.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” you said, smiling apologetically.

“You didn’t,” he muttered, though the way he blinked sluggishly said otherwise. He yawned and stretched, the loose hem of his t-shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of pale skin.

You shook your head and returned to your packing. “Go back to bed, baby. I’ve got a lot to do before I head out.”

“Exactly why I’m not going back to bed,” he said, sliding off the mattress. Before you could protest, he grabbed the duffel bag from the floor and plopped onto the couch with it. “I’m helping.”

“You’re helping by taking my bag?”

“I’m making sure you don’t pack it so well you actually leave.” His tone was dead serious, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him.

You sighed, walking over to reclaim the bag. “Very mature.”

“I don’t hear you denying it.”

By mid-morning, you had made decent progress despite Aizawa’s assistance. He followed you from room to room like an overgrown cat, leaning against doorframes or draping himself across your shoulders as you gathered your gear.

“Do you really need this?” he asked, holding up a portable comm device.

“Yes,” you said, snatching it back.

“What about this?” He held up a neatly folded uniform jacket.

“Shouta.”

“Fine.” He sighed dramatically, tossing the jacket into your bag before flopping onto the couch. “I still don’t see why you have to go. Don’t they have rookies for missions like this?”

“They need someone experienced,” you replied, checking your gear.

“You’re too experienced,” he argued, now lying across the couch with his arms crossed. “Retirement sounds great, doesn’t it? You and me, staying home, sleeping in—”

“Shouta, you’d lose your mind if you retired.”

“Maybe. But at least you’d be here to keep me sane.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you zipped up the duffel. But before you could move it to the door, Aizawa was there again, blocking the way.

“You’re relentless,” you teased.

“I’m a man in love,” he replied, the faintest flush coloring his cheeks.

When the time came to leave, Aizawa’s clinginess reached its peak. As you slipped on your boots, he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and a playful scowl on his face.

“You could stay,” he said, as if the idea had just occurred to him. “Tell them something came up. You sprained your ankle. Or your husband fell apart because you abandoned him.”

“Abandoned?” You echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. Abandoned.” He stepped closer, tugging lightly on the scarf wrapped around your neck. “Seven days is too long.”

“Seven days will fly by,” you assured him, cupping his cheek.

He leaned into the touch, his usual stoicism crumbling for just a moment. “Call me. Every night.”

“I will.”

“And don’t get hurt.”

“I won’t.”

He pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. “If you come back late, I’m sending the kids after you.”

You laughed, hugging him back. “I’ll come home in one piece. I promise.”

Reluctantly, he let you go, watching as you stepped out the door. “Be safe.”

“Always.”

Aizawa lingered in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets. He stayed there until you disappeared from view, already counting down the days until you’d be back.

[siriuslywounded]

[siriuslywounded]

Why do you persist?

[siriuslywounded]

If your husband actually signs the divorce papers you gave him you might just need to start an apocalypse about it…

Divorce Era Jayvik, my beloved, my dearest…

[siriuslywounded]

Snippet from Trouble In Paradise, a post-finale comic that I'm still cooking lol

[siriuslywounded]

[siriuslywounded]

Another one… just endless inspiration It’s so heartbreaking

[siriuslywounded]

Why is it always Mel? 😂

they've never had sex