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[issiesthings]

Nanami liked things organised.

Whether it was the order he got dressed, how long he brushed his teeth. Even making his bed, it all had to be methodical. And the same.

Which is why, he never assumed to fall for someone like you.

You weren't just clumsy, no. You were the type of clumsy that tripped on their own feet and dropped their only set of house keys down the drain.

You were the type of clumsy that often ended up coming home with bruised shins from the tables you walked into, the dropped your shopping, then whilst picking up your shopping, hit your head on a nearby wing mirror.

You were constantly covered in bumps and bruises, contrasting with Nanami, who'd never once left the house with lint on his jacket or without his shoes freshly shined.

That's probably why the Universe shoved you together.

Nanami had had an extremely long day, his head was throbbing, his glasses askew and he longed for nothing more than to have a shower and some quiet.

He was walking to his car from the office, only to approach and see a huge dent on the right door. Except, there wasn't just a dent. There was also a woman, with a bleeding knee, and a bike that had the front wheel broken.

He approached with fury on his face, shocked that his terrible day had somehow managed to get even worse, when he saw your face. Your soft eyes, welling slightly, and your even softer looking skin. For some unearthly reason, he had a strange urge to touch you.

"Oh! Sir. Finally, are you the owner of this car?"

"Yes. That's mine." Nanami replied, his voice quieter than usual, even soft.

"I am so sorry! I didn't even see your car, I was cycling you see, and then all of a sudden this black cat jumped out of nowhere! Obviously they're bad luck, unless you're not superstitious, I am. Extremely. Ever since my grandmother had a plant pot hit her after walking under a ladder, you see-"

So much for peace and quiet.

"And then I swerved and hit your lovely car. Well, I hit the tree first, then fell into your lovely car. Anyway! I am more than happy to pay for the damages, and I would if I had any money but-"

"It's fine."

"What?"

"It was an accident. I'll pay for the repairs. Have a nice day."

Nanami couldn't stand there for another second, his heart was beating abnormally fast, and his forehead was practically dripping. And the worst part? He had no idea why he felt like this! He must be coming down with something urgent.

He steps off the pavement to round the car and get to the drivers seat, and escape from this situation as soon as possible. However, he was stopped by an arm tugging him back.

"Sir please! Let me repay you! I'll feel awful if I don't."

"There's nothing."

"I'll do anything! Please!"

Now, Nanami has never been a spontaneous person, so you will have to excuse his next action. It may be a bit different to his usual style of 'normality'.

"Give me your number."

"Of course! Then I'll pay for repairs-"

"No. For a date."

"What?"

"If...That's not to forward."

Now, Nanami used to like things organised.

But it's hard to get dressed in the same order when your partner has to wash your clothes everyday after spilling things on them.

And it's hard to brush your teeth at the same time when your partner is babbling away from the next room about irrelevant things.

And it's especially hard to make your bed the same way every morning with your partner still in it.

So yes, Nanami's life may have changed. But if he has to wash his clothes a bit more often, and make his bed differently, to have you by his side? Well, what's wrong with some mess?

[issiesthings]

Sukuna loved you, that was obvious from the beginning.

It was just that his nephews loved you more.

Whether you'd come to spend the night, or just pop in to grab something, you'd end up being dragged to the floor by the two young boys and forced to look at their drawings.

Sometimes Sukuna didn't even know you were at the house until he came down to see the three of you watching cartoons together.

And it annoyed him to no end.

"Look at the picture I drew!" Yuji would say excitedly, before shoving it in your face.

"Is that me?" The young boy would nod in response.

"it's you, me, Choso and Uncle Kuna!"

The picture consisted of three stick figures each with different coloured hair and smiles, and a fourth figure with huge muscles, and red eyes, that was for some reason breathing fire.

"What is that?" Sukuna would ask, as he leant forward to get a peek.

"You!"

"You brat. No dinner for a week."

He thinks his final straw came when he crawled into bed that evening, wrapping himself around you, and expecting cuddles in return only to see two familiar midgets in your arms.

"Wha-"

"Shh, they're sleeping."

But despite his complaining, he can't help but let his ice cold heart warm when he sees you doing Choso's hair, or entertaining Yuji until the menace finally grew tired enough to pass out in your arms. He'd always wanted kids of his own, and for a long time, these two were all he'd had.

"What are you thinking about?" You ask, as you twist slightly to look at him from the floor. The two boys curled up in your lap, sleeping soundly to the white noise of the TV.

"Nothin'."

"Tell me."

"...You ever want one?"

"What?"

"A baby. You ever want a baby?"

"I've never really thought about it."

"I have."

And so the next time the boys visit, a few months later. They don't have to wait for the sound of your car, because it's already there, and has been for a while.

And they've drawn new pictures of you! This time, Sukuna looks a lot more tame, less flames and all. And beside him is you, with a round belly.

Sukuna pins that drawing to the fridge, right next to the sonogram.

[issiesthings]

Street Fighter Boyfriend who saw you come to one of his fights, and tried not to be distracted at how out of place you looked. Seemingly dragged along by one of your much more eager friends.

Street Fighter Boyfriend who almost lost his balance when you turned around to sit down, not that he'll ever tell you, but the sight of you for the first time definitely made his throat dry.

Street Fighter Boyfriend who won the fight, and was congratulated by hundreds of eager betters, but made eye contact with you first. Only to see you looking away from him.

Street Fighter Boyfriend who went backstage, to clean himself up, and asked one of his friends to invite you two to the victory party.

Street Fighter Boyfriend who watched from behind the curtain, albeit nervously, as he watched his friends facial features for a response.

Street Fighter Boyfriend who cheered when you said yes, and then tried to act cool as his colleagues looked at him weirdly.

Street Fighter Boyfriend who didn't drink anything, and didn't bother dancing either waiting for you to arrive. Even brushed off other ladies attempting to get closer to him.

Street Fighter Boyfriend who watched as you walked through the door, and drowned out all his friends and the party music. As Frankie Valli subconsciously started playing in his mind, because he truly couldn't 'take his eyes off of you.'

Street Fighter Boyfriend who watched as you were approached by guys and girls. And watched as you turned them down, and started getting more and more anxious.

Street Fighter Boyfriend who was approached by your friend, who congratulated him, before realising he was staring at you.

"She's single."

"Yeah? She doesn't seem to be interested in anyone."

"Hm. Well, worth a shot isn't it?"

Street Fighter Boyfriend who decided it was now or never according to your friend, so made his move.

"...Hi."

"Hello."

"You- uh, wow, I- sorry. You look better up close...Not! That I was watching, that would be weird, I didn't mean-"

"Do you dance?"

"huh?"

"You haven't danced all night. Do you dance?"

"yeah, I- I dance."

Street Fighter Boyfriend who ended up on the dance floor with you, and couldn't believe his luck as you turned in the bright lights and smiled at him.

He doesn't think his heart has ever palpitated faster. And he beats people up daily.

Street Fighter Boyfriend who managed to build up the courage to blurt out "will you go out with me?" over the loud music, to which you agreed.

Street Fighter Boyfriend who almost eight months later is still as awkward as he was when he first met you. Despite his intimidating persona.

He'll stumble over his words when you wear something new.

Go red when you compliment him back.

And keep a firm grip on your hip whenever someone with wandering eyes walks past.

And of course, his favourite pastime, letting you colour in his tattoos. Even leaving little brightly coloured hearts for you to spot when he's next in the ring.

Many will say love at first sight doesn't exist, except your boyfriend is living breathing proof of the exact opposite.

[issiesthings]

Older Brother's Best Friend?

Older Brother's Best Friend who went on a gap year around the world, and on the night he left, you confessed your crush on him.

Older Brother's Best Friend who came home without telling anyone nearly half a year later, for Brother's birthday - and to see you, but he wasn't quite ready to admit that yet.

Older Brother's Best Friend who showed up to find the house completely wild - a party utterly out of hand. Things were broken, the place reeked of alcohol, and there didn't seem to be a responsible person anywhere.

Older Brother's Best Friend who found Brother sprawled out on the leather couch watching a game of never-ending beer pong, two scantily scad ladies either side of him.

Older Brother's Best Friend watching as Brother was so drunk he barely recognised his own friend, so decided he'd find you first.

Older Brother's Best Friend who searched the entire bottom floor and couldn't see you anywhere - so reluctantly walked towards the stairs full of couples, with tongues down each other's throats.

Older Brother's Best Friend who reluctantly searched the couples face only to see none of them were you. Relieved he made it to the top, only to be shoved out the way by two young guys, walking towards your room talking about "seven minutes in heaven."

Older Brother's Best Friend who immediately tensed up, before gulping and walking towards the door. Seeing a room of seven on the floor, three guys and four girls. One of which being you.

Older Brother's Best Friend who was glad for the darkness of the room, otherwise you'd see the pure shock and bright redness on his face at your new appearance. Died hair, piercings, no more braces. You were very different from his memories, and he didn't seem to mind.

Older Brother's Best Friend who was pulled to the floor by one of the other girls, and forced to play. But, he really couldn't take his eyes off you - and you were yet to look at him.

Older Brother's Best Friend who waited nearly thirty five minutes, watching you come in and out the closet twice before he finally got his turn, and it landed on you.

Older Brother's Best Friend who couldn't wait any longer, before hauling to your feet and dragging you into the closet.

Older Brother's Best Friend who frowned when you tried to back away, pulling you closer and whispering to you "Nuh uh, you don't get to tease me all evening with these other guys, and not give me a taste too."

"You didn't want a taste last time."

"Didn't I?"

Older Brother's Best Friend whose eyes drifted downwards, before he gulped and looked back at your eyes. You couldn't tell if it was the lighting or the alcohol, but his eyes seemed darker than when the game started.

"How was the rest of the world?"

"You know damn well I don't want to talk about that right now."

"Why not? Since you were so eager to leave."

"Because, I've been waiting for almost four years for a chance to do this without your brother getting in the way. And if you think I'm giving up that chance now? You really don't know me."

"We shouldn't."

"Then say no."

You don't.

Older Brother's Best Friend who spends the next three minutes with his tongue in his mouth - realising he was too quick to judge those on the stairs - and the other four on his knees.

Older Brother's Best Friend who wasn't finished with you, so kicked everyone out of your room, for a one on one welcome home party.

Older Brother's Best Friend who woke up the next morning to use the bathroom, not before marking your neck a few more times, like he'd so desperately fantasised about before, before slipping from your bed.

You who woke up to yelling in the hallway, only to find Older Brother's Best Friend being pinned to the bathroom door by Brother. Older Brother's Best Friend not even trying to save himself as he endured every single one of brother's angry threats, even a punch, before sliding from his grip and walking back to you.

"Told you I'd waited long enough."

[metallicatx]

Katowice, Poland - February 10, 1987

by Andrzej Kiełbowicz

[issiesthings]

StreetFighterBoyfriend! headcanons

StreetFighterBoyfriend! Who comes home at 2 am, with blood dripping from his mouth, delirious from being knocked round the head, but still somehow manages to slide into bed and cuddle you like a teddy bear. 

StreetFighterBoyfriend! Who hides his injuries because he hates when you cry over him, instead putting on that false smile, and a “Look at me baby, I’m fine.” When it’s obvious he’s not. 

StreetFighterBoyfriend! Who’s favourite place to be is not the ring, but lying on his front with his face buried in your soft stomach, waking up and looking you in the eye with that pretty face, as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. (spoiler! There isn’t.)

StreetFighterBoyfriend! Who loves all you squishy parts because all he does all day is deal with people’s rock hard muscles, to come home to his soft partner is like heaven for him. 

StreetFighterBoyfriend! Who let’s you wrestle with him, and jokingly push him on the bed. You both know he could have you pinned to the ground at his mercy within mere moments, but he likes to see you in charge for once. 

StreetFighterBoyfriend! Who never lets a Cat Caller finish their sentence before he’s across the street punching the living daylights out of them. His street cred is more than enough to ward away unwanted noise, but he can never be too sure, and he’s more than happy to prove his ability every now and again. 

StreetFighterBoyfriend! Who hauls you over his muscular shoulder whenever you annoy him too much. And won’t put you down until you beg at least fifty times. 

StreetFighterBoyfriend! Who got a back tattoo a few months ago, but only an outline, because he knows how much you love to colour in. By day, he’s feared, and people watch out for that dragon tattoo. By night? It’s coloured in all sorts of different shades, as he smiles and peeks over his shoulder to see you focusing hard on keeping between the thin lines. 

StreetFighterBoyfriend! Who groans when you touch his neck, it’s his most sensitive spot and you know it. Spending too much time away? Skim your fingers across his pulse. Training in the garage too long? A breath across his nape. Watching his phone for too long? A kiss to the side. He folds quicker than a stack of cards every single time.

StreetFighterBoyfriend! Who 1000% grovels. At the slightest inconvenience he's on his knees for you. Trying to solve your problems, especially if he's the one who's caused them. He'll do anything to make you feel better, as long as you're not mad at him.

[issiesthings]

Frat Geto

NSFW - Minors do not interact!

TW: alcohol, oral (m), unhealthy obsession,

not a huge Geto fan, but I like the way this turned out. Hope you enjoy!

Geto tried to move on, he really did. 

He stopped texting, stopped showing up wherever you were, stopped talking to your friends, stopped stalking you socials, even stopped posting pictures of himself with girls you didn’t know, but were sure to be jealous of.

But by two weeks, he was suffering. Nothing he was doing was getting your attention. Or if it was you were hiding it extremely well. 

So, when the opportunity came, he took it. 

In all fairness, it was your fault. Had you expected him to go all night without saying something? You were dancing up against that nobody for hours. Looking better and better with every drink he downed. 

The way your hips swayed? Mocking. The way your hair flicked? Taunting. The way you held onto that guy’s shoulders, as he led you away from the dance floor to somewhere more private? It was almost an open invitation. 

He followed behind, watched as the idiot led your drunken self into a room on the third floor. Enough to still hear the bass, not enough that people could see. Except he wasn’t people. He was Geto. Your Geto.  

The door was slightly a jar when he made it to the top of the staircase, as he silently took his place beside the door frame to listen. Not creepily, no. He knew you were really doing this for him. Weren't you?

Within moments he could hear the sound of clothing tossed aside, the movements of your body he remembered down to a point, and heard the groans of the guy you were with. In his mind, it was him in there with you, he wasn’t a pathetic ex, no, you were coming back, he knew it. You just needed a little persuasion.

Within twenty minutes, the guy slid from the room, still doing up his zipper as he hurried downstairs away from you. What a fool. What a perfect chance. 

A few moments later, Geto swung the door open and there you were, half dressed, panting, still sobering up, as you were practically passed out on the unmade bed. What a state he’d left you in. 

“Geto? What are you–”

“So you still remember me then? I’m not completely erased from your memory.” 

“I wish you were.” You spat back, attempting to somewhat cover yourself.

“Come now, don’t lie to yourself. You know you were only dancing with him to get my attention. Tell me you miss me, I know you do.” 

“Go to hell Geto.” 

“Already been sweetheart, I much preferred it in your arms.” He smirked as he said the words. Coming closer, as he dropped to his knees, pressing his hands to the outside of your thighs, as he stared up at you through his thick lashes. 

He was on his goddamn knees for you.

“Yeah? Well maybe you shouldn’t have slept with that–”

“That’s in the past. Come on, don’t bring that up now. I’m back aren’t I?”

“I don't want you back.” 

“Well…now you’re just lying to both of us aren’t you sweetheart?” He dips his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your inner knee. You suck in a breath, and he smiles at that, the front of his teeth scraping against your skin. 

“You know you missed my mouth.” 

“I missed it more when you were using it for something else.”

“Semantics sweetheart.” His soft mouth shifted to the other knee. “Semantics.” 

“Geto, I really can’t.”

He doesn’t answer, only moves his kisses further up your thigh, then to your hip, then he’s slipping his nimble fingers up your side, and taking your shirt with it. 

“Geto.”

His hand slides higher, half your shirt is off now, as his hand slides gently against your skin, causing fire wherever he touches. It’s addictive. 

His mouth is moving with his hands, as he kisses over your stomach, his face so close you can see the little glints of lust hiding in them. As he moves higher and higher up his fingers lift your shirt off entirely, and you end up topless like you were ten minutes ago. 

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You need to stop.”

“We both know I can’t.”

His soft kisses continue, his hand discarding your shirt, as it slides back down your sides to caress your hips, whilst his mouth makes its way to your neck, and finally, just in front of your mouth. Your breaths mingle, his heart is practically palpitating.

You’re both panting, as you stare into his eyes. You see every ounce of regret he’ll never admit buried deep in them, that deep purple boring into you as his hands continue to move seductively. 

He’s never wanted anything more in his life than to just press his lips against yours. To taste your mouth after being deprived of it for months. This is his chance. This is his moment. 

As he moves forward, so do you, covering his mouth with one of your hands, his confusion is clear, his brows furrow desperately, as he attempts to free himself from your grip. 

“I told you. I can’t.”

You mutter the words as you stand up, your gaze now hardened with the memory of the things he’s done, why you ended in the first place. And as you finally let go of his mouth to walk towards the door, his facade cracks. 

“Look– wait– Alright! I know I screwed up, please. I– please don’t leave. I’ll do anything, don’t go back downstairs to that fool, you know I can treat you better, come on sweetheart you know I can.”

Bingo.

“...Get on the bed Geto.” 

He’s momentarily stunned, as if his begging finally worked, his eyes widen slightly, but he covers it, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and watching eagerly as you walk towards him. 

As if the bulge in his trousers wasn’t already half there, as you sink to your knees it only grows. His Adam's apple bobs, as he watches his mouth slightly agape, face dazed by your movements and whatever he’s consumed earlier in the evening. 

“You, you don’t have to.”

“Oh, but baby I want to.” You respond, reaching for his belt buckle, as he jolts back, and lets you do whatever you want. He truly is weak for you. 

As his buckle comes undone, he lets out a slight groan, his cheeks painted a gentle pink which is only darkening with every passing moment. 

Your mouth is on him before he has the chance to react. 

“I– shit– slow down, I– I can’t–” You don’t respond, only pull back slightly and run your tongue over the tip gently, causing another moan to fall from his lips as you then take him whole.

“I don’t– I can’t–” His begging continues as you fasten your pace, bobbing your head as his legs begin to shake slightly. 

Finally. Geto thought, his pants becoming more ragged as he slowly got closer and closer to the edge. It had been months. Months of dreaming about you on your knees for him, months of desperate nights fighting himself to call you just to hear your voice. All his nights of yearning, finally coming to an end.

He was so close, so mind blowingly close that—

And then it was gone. 

No more heat. No more edge. No feeling at all other than his aching self. As he lifted his head from the bed he only saw you wiping your face as you readjusted your t-shirt back onto yourself. 

“What are you–”

“You know, I’m not as easy as you think. And since you wanted her so much last time? I’m sure she’d be happy to finish the job for you.” 

“Wait–”

But you were already gone, door slamming behind you with finality. 

And now here he was. Sat again, alone. Aching, tired, yearning for you to come back. To admit this was all some cruel joke and tell him you missed him just as much as he missed you. But alas, you never did. 

Like I said, Geto was having a really hard time getting over you. 

[issiesthings]

One Of Those Days

Gojo had a long day. 

Not like any normal long day, as in: killed three curses, nearly got assassinated, saved the world (again), almost went bald, lost another white shirt to Panda’s clumsiness, had to sit through another round of Maki yelling at Yuta and him pretending to not enjoy it. A rather annoyed Yaga, an extremely annoyed Gakuganji, twelve complaints for “Destruction to the City”, and Megumi nearly pulling Mahoraga on him. 

And on his stroll home, a bird had shit on him. 

So all in all, a day that he would’ve rather spent cuddled up in bed with you instead of enduring. 

As he walks through the door though, that all changes. He takes his shoes off, or more like flings them hard enough against the wall it leaves dents. He throws his coat somewhere in the corner of the hallway, before shuffling to the kitchen in a huff. 

However, instead of breaking into an angry yell as he was going to do, he spotted you, stood at the counter. His favourite meal cooked gently to the side, as you arranged a vase of fresh sunflowers with a smile on your face. 

“Long day?”

He only nodded in response, and that was all you needed. 

Within ten minutes, he was wrapped up in a blanket, freshly showered, a bowl of his favourite food empty on the floor, with his favourite show in the background, as you led him on your lap and forced him to rant about his day until he felt better. 

“And then that stupid old man looked at me as if it was my fault those buildings blew up! It’s almost like he doesn’t want me to catch curses anymore–”

“Aw, that’s so mean of him.” You respond, threading your fingers through his hair. 

“I know! And then Megumi! That little brat–”

Within the hour, he was nearly fast asleep. As you gently slid off his blindfold to see his pair of blue eyes drooping, and his face softening. 

“...You’re too good f’me…Y’know that?” He mumbled with a yawn and snuggled closer against your stomach until all you could see was a sleeping burrito, that was once your boyfriend. 

Yeah, Gojo had a pretty long day. 

But you always seemed to fix that.

[issiesthings]

TrueFormSukuna! x Chubby Reader

TrueFormSukuna! Who can’t help but lift you over his shoulder when you ignore him. 

TrueFormSukuna! Who doesn’t like when you complain about being picked up, he thinks you’re insulting his strength.

TrueFormSukuna! Who stares from behind when you walk, watching as people smile and stare when they see your beauty, before they pale when they catch sight of his protective glare.

TrueFormSukuna! Who doesn’t let you leave the bed before him, even if you’ve been awake for hours. He’ll wrap all four arms around you and groan when you shift to leave. 

TrueFormSukuna! Who doesn’t like when you sigh looking in the mirror, looking at your insecurities, so destroy them all instead. Now you have to ask Uraume if your outfit looks good or if you look like a five year old playing dress up. 

TrueFormSukuna! Who’s ears go red when you touch him, it could be a brush of your hand, or a kiss on the cheek and he’s brighter than the sun. He denies it for centuries. 

TrueFormSukuna! Who would die happily resting his face against your thighs, he’s never felt anything so soft and plump and he swears to every curse in existence if you say you ‘hate them’ one more time he might blow you up. 

TrueFormSukuna! Who shamelessly stares at anything below your waist. Your Stomach? Check. Your ass? Check. Your hips? Check. Your thighs? Double check. 

TrueFormSukuna! Who refuses to fall asleep unless it’s on your chest. He lies and says he could care less about you, even if you argue, you’ll wake up and find him there, like a comfort blanket. Snuggled away like some damn content puppy.

[issiesthings]

Cuddles.

Megumi had never been one for physical touch. 

Whether it was fist bumps from friends, hugs from his sister, Gojo punching his shoulder in praise, he’d just never been a fan. 

Well, that was until he met you. 

Now he’s cuddled up in his room, his arms trapping you under him, as he rests his heavy head on your chest. Your legs entwine with his, as he attempts to snuggle closer than humanly possible, sighing contently as you sift your fingers through his hair. 

“Megumi.”

“Hm?”

“I need to go.” 

“No.” 

And so you stayed, for another hour or maybe two. Eventually he’d slid up, resting his head against the crook of your neck, hiding away from the crazy world that surrounded him, whilst keeping you hidden with him. 

“Megumi.”

“Hm?”

“Now I really need to go.”

“No. Stay.”

“For how much longer?”

“Hmm…Forever?”

[issiesthings]

Angel On The Right

Life was hard, being the Demon on someone’s shoulder. You only controlled half of their decisions, never got any recognition for your actions, out shone by the Angel on the right. 

It was even harder, Sukuna thought, when he managed to fall in love with the Angel on the right. 

Every day, he would wake to that bright white light shining in his eyes, not that he minded, but he pretended it did. And every morning, he would complain just to hear them argue back in that huffy voice. 

“Turn that light off you silly winged creature.”  

“Maybe you need some light, you’re always hiding in the dark over there.”

“Sort of my job.” 

He’d grumble and complain, but never truly mean it. In fact, he tried to embrace that light. Bask in it even. Without being too obvious of course. 

He’d watch everyday, as they went about their tasks. Sorting through Yuji’s good decisions. Forcing him to subtly make the right ones. Watch their little smile when he helped someone cross the street, or bought his friends things. And it pulled at his frozen heart strings, much to his dismay. 

No wonder Yuji was such a good person, Sukuna was constantly distracted, so much so that he ended up not doing his job properly! 

And imagine Yuji’s surprise when he woke up one morning, to see a rather tiny, annoyed demon grumbling on his chest with red ears, as a pretty little angel poked his pointy horns and gave his kisses on his cheek. 

[nemfrog]

Bananas. 1930. Cover detail.

Internet Archive

[aro-narcissus]

Starting a collection

[babushkaat]

[cutemysteriousgirl12]