Happy Ace week from someone who still gets aske "whats an Aegosexual" every time I say I am one and have to gesture sadly to google. But it's accurate, extremely accurate. Spent a long time like uh I'm EXTREMELY sexual when it comes to writing/art/rp but am more idc about rl shit.

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#radiostatic #voxal I like the idea that sinners don’t need organs to live, they’re symbolic. Hearts can be sold like souls: not as pumps, but as the ability to love yourself. That’s how Alastor ends up needing other people’s validation.

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It’s fine. Kirishima probably wouldn’t care, anyway, and he /definitely/ doesn’t need to know how often Katsuki masturbates to his gym selfies. “The hell do you want for your birthday, Shittyshima?” he demands.

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Yeah, Katsuki looked up pictures of him in middle school. Who the hell wouldn’t? Besides, they’re mutual across every social media platform the idiot has. Katsuki doesn’t use his socials much—well, other than to snoop on Kirishima. Maybe he’s a bit of a creep.

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It’s just them, now. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Kirishima wanders over to the bed and grins down at him, hands on his hips. Katsuki fights the urge to trace the pale pink droplets as they cascade over his muscles. He’s beautiful. Always has been, even when he was scrawnier. +

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