#starryknight565

[seiwas]

Hi 🥺👉👈 I heard you wanted prompts for writing practice so I came to offer help 🤲🫡

It can be for any character (maybe whoever has the nearest birthday if you can't choose?), but the word is "salmon" 🎏💦

P.S. Do you pronounce it "sam-men" or "sayl-mon"?

hi there! thanks for sending in a prompt! 🥺 i'll do kiri! hehe and i pronounce it as 'sah-mon' 🥹

help me get back into the writing groove! send me a character + any word and i'll write a short blurb about it!

contains: food (salmon), brief mentions of cheating (of a diff couple)

kirishima + salmon

"mama, what does love mean?" you ask your mother, wide-eyed and full of wonder.

you were 10 when you first truly wondered what love meant. in your small town, it was hardly ever the grand things. handpicked flowers from the side of the road, sometimes fields if the seasons permitted; baked goods prepared in the early hours of the morning, its scent wafting down your neighbor's porch.

it was the soft goodbye kisses that your mother would give your father as he left for work, and his insistence that she makes the best damn pie this town has ever seen (even though he's allergic to blueberries). love was simple, and it was easy.

so when you moved out of your small town at 18 and faced the big city, you were shaken by the reality that that wasn't always the case.

"he said he still loves me," your first roommate cried to you, heartbroken as she held out the text on her screen. she had caught him with another girl just hours prior.

at 20, the consensus among your friends was that good sex was just as good as love itself.

"dating these days is fuuuucked," yuki plops down on your couch. at 23, the dating scene has proven to be a challenge for most of your friends.

it's either someone isn't enough or they're too much. sometimes, the truth comes later, months into a budding relationship, and the rest of the group has yet another name to add to the growing list of "people who deserve to eat uncooked rice and stale bread".

you agree, but also don't. because you've lucked out, it seems.

though kirishima believes it to be fate more than anything.

who would have thought that spraining your ankle in sophomore year would land you here, now, sharing an apartment with the cute, kind boy you so embarrassingly tripped in front of.

from across the room, you listen vaguely to yuki rant the third time about the girl who stood her up for the guy who was leading her on for months. you've already set out a plate for her to join you and kirishima whenever she's ready, but you know that it won't be until she's told the story the fifth time that she'll notice she's hungry.

the meal in front of you is miso glazed salmon, a favorite in your apartment. you don't make it so often because salmon is expensive, especially the good kind, but kirishima believes that life is all about the treats you let yourself have once in a while.

there's only one slice of salmon left on the serving plate and it's a given that it belongs to yuki. with how busy work was for you today though, it's hard to hide that you're still a little bit hungry.

and kirishima sees it, in the way you attempt to scoop up any remaining sauce on your plate with your spoon; in the way you go for a bit more rice, even when it has nothing to go with anymore.

so he takes one more bite and cuts off the rest of his slice, scooping it up to place it on your plate.

you look at him, confused, furrowing your brows at the fact that there is no way he's done eating; kirishima eats twice as much as you do, thrice even, on heavier gym days. but he only gives you a sweet smile, red eyes twinkling as he motions for you to go ahead and finish it.

warmth fills you in this moment, fuzzy flutter feelings swirling in your belly.

it reminds you of when you were 10, asking your mother what love meant, and she said, "sometimes, it's when they give you the rest of their food even when they aren't finished, and especially when it's their favorite."

[pinkanonwrites]

I CLICKED THE WRONG BUTTON I DIDN'T MEAN TO UNFOLLOW I AM SO SORRY

But for the this or that event (TWST):

<Couples Stretching and Trust exercises with Jack> or <Matching Couple Outfits/Accessories with Cater>?

(No worries! I didn't even notice before you had a chance to fix it, haha!)

OOOOOHHH, this one's really tough for me! Both of them sound really, really cute. I think... I'd probably go with Matching Couple Outfits/Accessories with Cater!

"Ooh! What about hats?"

Cater peeks around the clothing rack to beam at you, holding a baseball cap in each hand. Each of the hats has two springy coils jutting out from the top, each adorned with sparkly hearts. You wrinkle your nose a bit.

"They're not exactly 'day-to-day' wear. I'd like something that we could wear everywhere. Did you see these about phone charms? The teddies are really cute."

Cater quickly ditches the hats on a shelf and moves to your side, taking one of the dangling teddy bears from your grasp to study its lopsided eyes. "They are!... Shoot, my new phone case doesn't have a charm loop, though. We could put them on our backpacks, or..."

He trails off suddenly, gaze caught on a display back by the far wall. You follow his gaze and find a pair of mannequins hand-in hand, clad in matching sweaters each emblazoned with an asymmetrical diamond pattern. One of them is red with a large, black diamond, the other its colors inverted. The two of you look to each other, and judging by the grin splitting Cater's face he's thinking the exact same thing that you are.

"Perfect!"

[g0dwat3rwritings]

I heard KNY requests were in season and I came running. Hear me out.

Modern college AU Rengoku/Reader fluff where you drop your phone on your way to class (with the student id and everything) while listening to music (so it's open). You're a wreck when you realize, only to find you get an email from "yourself" saying that they picked up your phone and want to meet up with you at X building.

You can draw out the pre-reveal banter as long as you want, but yada yada, you go after class all frazzled to be met with the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous man you've ever seen. He apologizes for going through your phone to get to your email but you're too overwhelmed with gratitude and awe to care. Thus, meet-cute.

You can end it however you wish, but this has been rattling in my head for a while XD

𝐍𝐅𝐇𝐃𝐉𝐒𝐁𝐅𝐊𝐅𝐊𝐒𝐇𝐃𝐇𝐃𝐍 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 /𝐏

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 (𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝?)

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

"𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞!"

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭.

𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐠. "𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭.." 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡���𝐟𝐟, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐩, 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦.. 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟? 𝐈𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝, "𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐈 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬. 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 407, 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮"

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 407. "𝐀𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬." 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭... 𝐣𝐚𝐰-𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, "𝐀-𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐝. "𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥!" 𝐇𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐰, 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐰... 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬. "𝐎𝐡, 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮." 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝. 𝐇𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝. "𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞! 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐨!"

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. "𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐡- 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞." 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝.. 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐥𝐲. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭.

𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬. 𝐀𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. "𝐈 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐭!" 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

[shyspider]

Nine people i wish i knew better

Tagged by: @starryknight565 💕💕💕

Favorite color: Dark colors, always. Midnight blues and purples. Deep reds and rich greens. I can't tack down one color.

Currently reading: Not as much as I should. I've been trying to read Atomic Habits by James Clear for self-improvement, but I'm also trying to read The Hobbit by Tolkien to try and get back to reading regularly again. No fanfics had been holding or catching my attention, which is weird for me :(

Last song: Currently Lofi Girl's pomodoro livestream as I answer comments. But an actual song I can name would be The Death of Love by Cradle of Filth. I've been on a semi-fantasy kick lately since I've started playing Baldur's Gate 3.

Last film: Trap. Good psychological thriller, suspenseful, messed up, and uncomfortable in all the right ways. M. Knight Shyamalan's films have always been a hit and miss with me, and the nepotism is a little annoying, but Josh Hartnett CARRIES these scenes on his shoulders.

Last series: Just finished all seasons of Rings of Power (I take forever to get to a series) and I really don't know why so many people hated it when it first came out. I'm glad I gave it a chance because I enjoyed it.

Sweet/salty/savory: I can easily switch between the three like someone changing weapon sets. It really depends on my mood.

Tea or coffee: Coffee in the morning. Black, like my metal. Tea in the afternoon to keep me going. Sometimes I get fancy with milk and sugar. Been addicted to London Fogs lately.

Working on: Myself. My garden. My home. My writing. I'm looking forward to this hiatus so I can focus on recovering from this burnout.

Tagging with no pressure: @alessa-suicidedreamer @thegoldenshi-shi @bewbberrytarts @allswellinthiswell @maplesyruplover @air-mechanical @afssh @solari0om @themaskismyface

And anyone else who sees this - tag me so I can know you better 🖤

Nine people i wish i knew better

Tagged by: @dj-triumph (Thanks 😊)

Favorite color:

Currently reading: Falcondance by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes in a bid to finally appease the perpetually echoing question from my inner tween: "How did that shapeshifter series with the birds and the snakes and the falcons end?"

Learning that I had pretty questionable taste as a tween, but I still have to know. 2 more books after this one.

Last song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-DG0l8sSNJM (Ukraine's Eurovision entry)

Last film: The Phantom of Death (1987)

Last series: 86 and Osomatsu-san

Sweet/salty/savory: Salty

Tea or coffee: Tea. Habitually, Earl Grey with some sugar and milk.

Working on: Tepidly reviewing a Beauty and the Beast adaptation concept, trying to sing more (learning one of my favorite Samel Barber pieces: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2Ww_B8WZL0). As usual, 0 promises to deliver any actual content ever. 😜

Tagging with no pressure: @jerseyfiredragon, @angel-with-paper-wings, @horrorgirl4life, @angelandmadman, @starryknight565, @immunetosirens, @iferikcouldhearmysoul, @achillmango, @britishchick09

[onelongsound]

Nine people i wish i knew better

Tagged by: @starryknight565 (hi! 🙋🏻‍♀️)

Favorite color: The right one for the context. 🧐

Currently reading: The Great Path of Awakening by Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Taye (for my somatic meditation group). I feel a lot of resistance about religious texts like this, but also can find it useful.

Last song: CARELESS WHISPERS (Japanese Version 1984) - Hideki Saijo 🥰🥰🥰 (ht @ask-sota-urameshi)

Last film: Decision to Leave, which I watched w my Airbnb host. I found it hard to follow while watching, but the day after I was really pleased with it overall.

Last series: Technically, it was Chernobyl that I binged (also with my Airbnb host) right after a grueling five-day depth psychology training where everyone was pushed to their edge. A bleary experience from beginning to end. Currently watching Shounan Bakusouzoku (ht @pompadorned), and in the middle of re-watching Yu Yu Hakusho.

Sweet/salty/savory: All of it. I love food. I tend to like sweets and savories separate, though, IE avoid BBQ things.

Tea or coffee: I'm super sensitive to caffeine, but if I weren't I'd drink all sorts of jasmine, earl grey, rose black, oolong, pu-er, tieguanyin. With milk and sugar/honey. Or lemon. And/or with boba. I recently made my own blend for bedtime: rose, chamomile, lavender, nettle, oat straw, dandelion leaf and root.

Working on: A series of drawings of the Hashira as 90s shonen delinquents (gonna redo them all and add the rest, starting next week!)

Tagging with no pressure: (not including the folks I know on Discord mostly) Their sheer enthusiasm for the character is infectious: @who-can-touch-my-boob @heyimkana @jadebrightwind They're really into that one same thing I am: @goodgift @vanityxvanitas Their ideas are shiny (among other talents): @jilted-love @clowncrr @alshamswelnahr @demonslayedher

[kakushino]

Due to popular demand (1 request), I'm sharing my Elias Ainsworth tat (my artist took the liberty to make it less anime-y)

The thorns wrap around my forearm too

@starryknight565

[seiwas]

sel, happy iwa day!!!! 🫶 To celebrate, the word coincidence?

hello starry!! thank you for celebrating with me!!! 🫶

coincidence

“aw hell no,” you decidedly pivot as soon as your eyes land on a familiar figure across the room.

oikawa tuts behind you, wagging his finger as he effectively blocks your escape, “nu-uh, you promised!”

sure you did. stupid, dumb, two-hours ago you did promise; but that was before—

—before you knew what you were getting into.

—before you knew that coming to this party would bring you face-to-face with a part of the you that used to exist.

—before you knew that you’d have this oh-so-coincidental chance encounter with the good part of the past five years of your life.

“i hate your ass,” you mumble under your breath as oikawa urges you forward.

“ouch,” he pauses for a split second, “good thing it’s your ass heading there now then.”

you’ve known oikawa for most of your life; he’s nosy, annoying, and at his worst, a traitor when he feels the need for it. you’ve known oikawa for most of your life, and for all the years gone by, you know he’s a good friend—the meddling kind that makes coincidences happen like he holds fate in his hands.

tonight, it seems that he’s decided to hold yours.

“tooru,” you sigh, turning back to face him, “i already told you.”

“sure,” he seems unfazed, “told me you both are being so stupid about this.”

you frown, flicking him on the forehead.

“iwa-chan isn’t a quitter,” he stands his ground, “and neither are you.”

you want to cry, if you’re being honest. standing here in the middle of your university’s farewell party, you blend in with a sea of faces you’ve become so familiar with over the past four years. it makes you think of the vastness ahead of you, of the unknown that lies ahead once you step outside of this room.

and it’s instinct, when you search for the familiar spiked hair and that damn green sweater. it’s instinct when iwaizumi stands out so clearly among everyone else—

it wasn’t going to work. you both have different directions, different paths. the past five years were great; they were fun—some of the best years of your life, but you and iwaizumi have decided to mutually end it for the chance of maybe even better years ahead, without either of you tying the other down.

it hurt to admit, and a part of you, small as it was, had hoped that he would be stubborn enough to tell you no, that he was willing to fight tooth and nail to make it work. but the fact of the matter is that he didn’t, and, well—it really only meant one thing.

“it was a mutual decision, tooru.”

“okay,” he proceeds to push you ahead, “tell me that after you talk to each other honestly.”

you wonder why he’s being so insistent when you come close enough to observe iwaizumi properly—his hair disheveled and a look of fatigue beyond belief; there are red spots around his eyes, almost as if he’s kept in tears waiting to be shed. iwaizumi often has a drink in his hand at parties like this—just a cup that he’s filled at a level high enough to refuse more but low enough that it looks like he’s taken a few sips. it’s meant to be a sign of social drinking, but tonight he only holds a bottle of water.

he looks lonely at the end of the room—smiling with sad eyes as people pat him on the back and congratulate him for his offer to move.

when you and iwaizumi agreed to break it off, he had listened to everything you said and made no rebuttals to argue. you’d rehearsed what you wanted to say enough times that you were confident you wouldn’t break down while saying it; you didn’t want to give him a reason to feel bad about anything at all.

but looking at him now—it makes you want to take back everything. you’ve built yourself up to be strong about many things, but not this.

“you know, for some of the smartest people i know, i didn’t think you’d both be so—“ oikawa starts, but is promptly drowned out when a pair of those familiar green eyes land on you.

you’re eyebrows shoot up, caught, but the look iwaizumi gives you makes tears flow down your cheeks like the trickling of water down the sides of a too-full cup.

his lips curl up softly, sending you a gentle smile; his eyes, although a little sad, hold the same love you’ve received over the past five years.

you don’t deserve it—you don’t deserve it when he moves to the side, leaving a space for you to occupy should you come closer. only if you want to.

[seiwas]

🕷️

Trick or treat! 💗😝 Continuing the trend and my everlasting love, could you tell me what/who kiri wants to be this year so I can coordinate?

hello starry!!! trick or treat!! 🥺💗

🕷️ - send me a character and i’ll find a costume peg for what they’re wearing this halloween!

omg if u're looking for a couple outfit, i will be so cliche and say that i'd love to see a classic lil wolf and red riding hood moment w kiri 🥺 or like. belle and the beast haha (but i think red riding hood is just a bit more sexy) but!! i don't think he wears a headpiece hehe he just lets his hair loose and plays around with the makeup 🥺 and is also probs shirtless hehe or like. ripped clothes vibes.

he also wouldn't mind going as a fire hydrant . or as a sexy lifeguard like baywatch or smth LOL (tho this one is probably a really last minute outfit)

trick or treat! let’s exchange treats!

[seiwas]

so cute! I'm so happy you're happy and having a good day sel ☺️🥰 let's play for kiri 🥺?

hello my dear!! 🥹 thank you so much, you are so sweet!!! 💗 and for sending kiri too omg— you're after MY HEART!

kiri is a massive cuddler, as in—will engulf your entire body with his. he sleeps like a brick so good luck getting out of his arms in bed 🥺 (he holds you like a kid clings onto their favorite pillow at night). he'll walk around shirtless in the morning and drape himself over you like he doesn't weigh A TON from all that muscle mass 😭. when you try to tell him you have to get ready for work, he instead, waddles you 😭 full on penguin walks you to your shared bathroom.

he does the same when he comes back from the gym, all icky and sweaty and tired but still as stubborn on wanting to hold you 🥺

send me a character and i’ll tell you a cute relationship thing they do!

[seiwas]

I just strolled, savored, sobbed through col and I-

the flavor. The characterization. I love getting to see Satoru be a real person with complex feelings without losing the goofy boyish side of him. I love getting to see both internal povs and how they see each other, I think there is such beauty and hope in that. Reader is genuinely such a role model of patience that I was just as in awe of as Satoru. I love how and where you chose to linger, highlighting the big and small moments and the moments that seem small but are actually big. If I could describe this story in a few words, it would be profound. Decadent. The work and love you've poured into the stories is beautiful to see and I am deeply, irrevocably moved. Beautiful, gorgeous, I feel like I've just eaten a full course meal while an orchestra plays on my heartstrings. I need to walk this off or stare at a wall or something.

hi!! sorry i got to this so late!! 🥺 i was so touched receiving this that i reread it so much 😭

aaaah thank you so much for taking the time to read col jaksnks i know some of the works are a bit lengthy and they jump through scenes a lot but !!! it is my baby and i am so touched that you went through it 🥺💗

it’s so lovely of you to come in my lil mailbox and type out this thoughtful message too 🥺 thank you so much i appreciate it and you 😭 the flavour 😭 am so happy that satoru’s complex characterisation was able to shine thru 🥺 it’s smth i consider and try hard to showcase when i write him, but can’t tell if am able to 😭 so i’m so glad that you see it 🥺💗 this is so validating for me!!!

and!! ur appreciation for the col couple too 🥺 i truly Love them and my heart does a little dance every time anyone talks abt them too 🫶🏻 esp col reader 🥺

to call col profound and decadent and all the lovely things you say my writing is oh that is so!!! i am so flattered and touched 🥺 how you notice the small and big moments and recognise their placement in everything too 🥺 i am so deeply moved by this message and you 🥺 thank YOU so much! i am keeping this message close to my chest aaaah

[masksonmasks]

Get to Know Me Better game

Answer the questions and tag 9 people you want to know better. Thanks for the tag @deliciouskeys !

Last song I listened to: "Alive!" from Death Takes A Holiday. I've heard so-so things about the show as a whole, but I really enjoy the cast recording. The show also has a very "Phantom Fugue"-like song called "Death is in the House", which isn't too surprising since Maury Yeston wrote both this and Phantom.

Currently reading: Oath and Honor by Liz Cheney. Christmas present/recommendation from my dad.

Currently Watching: I learned The Gilded Age is a thing! About halfway through season 1 now.

Tagging with zero stress, but I'd like to know: @horrorgirl4life, @christinedaaeunofficial @starryknight565, @sunshine-for-serotonin, @waistcoatntails, @lilyrosegold, @ollifree, @kosmochlor

[masksonmasks]

Nine people i wish i knew better

Tagged by: @dj-triumph (Thanks 😊)

Favorite color:

Currently reading: Falcondance by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes in a bid to finally appease the perpetually echoing question from my inner tween: "How did that shapeshifter series with the birds and the snakes and the falcons end?"

Learning that I had pretty questionable taste as a tween, but I still have to know. 2 more books after this one.

Last song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-DG0l8sSNJM (Ukraine's Eurovision entry)

Last film: The Phantom of Death (1987)

Last series: 86 and Osomatsu-san

Sweet/salty/savory: Salty

Tea or coffee: Tea. Habitually, Earl Grey with some sugar and milk.

Working on: Tepidly reviewing a Beauty and the Beast adaptation concept, trying to sing more (learning one of my favorite Samel Barber pieces: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2Ww_B8WZL0). As usual, 0 promises to deliver any actual content ever. 😜

Tagging with no pressure: @jerseyfiredragon, @angel-with-paper-wings, @horrorgirl4life, @angelandmadman, @starryknight565, @immunetosirens, @iferikcouldhearmysoul, @achillmango, @britishchick09

[twisted-up-in-wonderland]

#real #they both have that very strong sense of right and wrong #that I think will both compliment and challenge each other towards growth #plus the visual is hilariously precious #big beefy wolfman boy trailing after small angry prince of roses (tags by @starryknight565)

Yes!!!!! You get it!!!!!

Jack Howl’s Mentorship/Friendship with Riddle Rosehearts

Ummm why is no one talking about the Jack and Riddle mentorship/friendship we see hinted at in Jack’s ceremonial robe vignette????? That shit is ADORABLE and is honestly so pure and makes so much sense too????

I honestly hated Jack’s dorm uniform vignette because of how out of character it seemed for Jack to basically obsess over Ruggie. Like, I understand they were going for a “pack dynamic” thing, but they went about it in all the wrong ways and they did it so intensely and so suddenly that it just made Jack seem like a completely different character. I was a bit uncomfortable with it to be honest.

But Jack looking up to Riddle? Because he has seen Riddle work hard, stay on the straight and narrow, get amazing grades, and use incredibly powerful and difficult magic? Jack looking up to Riddle because he respects him, not just because of his power but because of his intelligence and integrity? Getting excited to learn under Riddle’s tutelage, even if, maybe even because of, the fact that Riddle won’t go easy on him?

Yeah, that sounds exactly like the Jack Howl I know and love.

I need more pure Jack & Riddle mentorship content. These two would have a great friendship.

🐺🌹

[izogf]

thank you so much @starryknight565 for the tag !! 🩷🩷 10 things for 10(ish) people you’d like to get to know better last song: i dont remember actually- i havent listened to anything for quite a while now but i rly enjoyed dangerous by bronze avery favorite color: pink and red<3 but i do enjoy all the other colors last book: i havent started reading yet this year last film: i watched love and monsters last week !! it was pretty good last tv show: im currently continuing one piece with my friend<3 we just finished fishman island sweet/savory/spicy: i like all, mostly savory, but i get rly bad sweet cravings a lot relationship status: do not wish to disclose last thing i googled: something about snow globe water HAHAHA current obsession: zoro<3 i think about him so much i dream about him every day- and also stardew valley looking forward to: about to make some big purchases in a few weeks (furniture and trinkets) so that keeps me going tagging (no pressure) @borzoi-gf @jparadox @atlasecrets @lovergirlmp3 @abageddon @4phr0d17e

10 things for 10(ish) people you'd like to know better

thanks @se7entyrell for the tag!

last song: spooky by dusty springfield (bc i'm on my 60s vibes shit — again)

favourite colour: any shade of blue!

last book: divine rivals, by rebeca ross (loved it! it's been a minute since i've read a book front to cover so fast)

last film: woman of the hour

last tv show: the consultant

sweet/savoury/spicy: savoury for food, bitter for drinks!

relationship status: single. forever.

last thing i googled: xo kitty season 2 date

current obsession: i've been watching any romcom that is recommended to me, old or new, good or trash.

looking forward to: start my new job, write a few more chapters for death defying acts and the tortured firefighters department, go out with my friends to celebrate

tagging: @munsonsreputation @live-love-be-unique

[who-can-touch-my-boob]

Tags above by @starryknight565

To just clear up my own little analysis, I’m not saying be and Sanemi are the same - but they’re like two sides of one coin. I could easily see them switching universes and keep their personalities and somehow just fit into the other person’s role.

Plus, it’s also the way they carry themselves - speaking as in how they pronounce their words. And how discreet and polite their speech is when speaking among certain settings. I’m sure you guys noticed (which Tanjiro pointed out in s1 of kny) that Sanemi talks very… rough(?) but quickly change to a polite speaking when in front of the master and his family.

Something I also noticed with Hak (from only the first episodes). Hak, just like Sanemi speaks in a very similar tone, the way they linger on vowels or drag them out. (Sorry I’m not native English speaker so I don’t know on the spot how to describe it).

Also how their body language is, their fighting styles and how confident they are in their skill.

The difference however is that while Hak is obviously more comfortable and easygoing around people while Sanemi is emotionally constipated and suck at human interactions. BUT HERE ME OUT!!

THEY’RE THE SAME BUT ALSO NOT THE SAME. AND THEY ARE BOTH SO FUCKING HOT AND COOL!

Well, this wasn’t the best analysis because

1: I just started rewatching Yona of the Dawn yesterday and don’t remember much of Hak and made this post from watching only 2 episodes… so of course I could be so way off once I’ve gotten longer in that story I’ll come back to this post.

2: Sanemi is really sexy.

Rewatching Yona of the Dawn (also realised the anime came out 10 years ago???) But anyway, I’m definitely going to read the manga since it was cancelled after season 1.

And yeah, you guys assumed right - this is actually a Sanemi post in disguise. Because Hak, the hunk in the anime/manga is so fucking Sanemi coded. They speak in similar tone, both rough but kind, Hak is something-something wind tribe and Sanemi is the wind pillar.

I’m also reading the manga after watching the one season anime because I know it’s most likely a little filthy (raises a suggestive eyebrow).

Like damn they both just carry their weapons in the same manner.

OH! Btw, I also highly recommend anyone who hasn’t watched Yona of the Dawn to do so, I remember loving it back when it came out in 2014 and was devastated it didn’t get more seasons.

[seiwas]

waaah thank you so much for reading 🥺

i love seeing your reactions even tho they're a bunch of keyboard smashes (sorry 😭😭😭)

₊˚⊹｡ (you were good to me) | nanami kento

wc: 2.8k

summary: nanami counts his chances and bets on this last one.

contains: implied f!reader but no mention of pronouns, canon-adjacent, exes, mentions of alcohol, swears, mentions of drunk calls, pov switching, angst, c.death

a/n: another brainchild from me and @augustinewrites, with song inspos: you were good to me, tequila, bourbon, already gone, all i want, and something in the orange

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: waiting for that call you know won't come

part 1 <- you are here

October 31, 2018.

Your company halloween party isn’t all that fun when you think about it. 

The optional suggestion from HR to wear a costume has always been promptly ignored for as long as you can remember, pressed suits in dark neutrals coloring the celebration instead. Nothing exciting about it at all. 

It used to be though, when you had Nanami to spend it with. 

Liquid pools by the sides of your fingertips, condensation dripping down your glass of bourbon. One of the perks of being in a financial firm’s halloween party is that the alcohol is good, expensive to match the tastes and budget the partners can afford. 

Calling it a party is overhyping it, if you’re being honest. It’s just another day at work, except without the alcohol restrictions; your coworkers still check the markets every five minutes (you do too, out of habit), and directors still ask for summary reports while attending to a phone call or two—one hand on a tablet and another on a drink, earbud slotted securely in one ear. 

You and Nanami used to hide, even just for a few minutes, by the break room at the back, inside the pantry—a place now foreign but still filled with all your memories; you haven’t stepped foot in it since he broke it off. 

It's a common notion amongst your peers that workplace romance is dead—it always has been (at least, outwardly). HR would have cut either of you out of the next payment cycle if they had caught wind of your mingling. 

Workplace romance is dead, they say, but what you had with Nanami was alive, beating with every giggle muffled by the palm of your hand. No one would ever consider him a funny guy, but you did—all his snide remarks, comments unapologetically deadpan in a way so bluntly his. 

The gray curtain separating you two from the rest of the office kitchen was thin, but it held every weighted moment you snuck with him—secret confessions a little before midnight, a hand or two you couldn’t possibly resist, sobs hushed down, bitten between your teeth with you tucked into him. 

Workplace romance is dead—it’s supposed to be, but a few desks down and a sharp left turn from yours, it haunts you, still. 

You take a sip. 

.

Nanami has a sense for these things. 

It’s always when something doesn’t feel right that the numbers start to click. 

Clusters of sorcerers have been grouped to surround the vicinity, his own trio comprising of himself, Fushiguro, and Ino. The instructions are simple: to be on standby in case anything happens. The wait time should be a good sign; it’s highly unlikely that anyone can match up to Gojo, after all. 

He checks his watch, each second ticking agonizingly slowly. It feels unsettling, like the calm before the storm—a deep unrest simmering. Unsafe is the first thought that comes to mind, then you second; it prompts him to call you, his fingers slightly trembling. 

Your contact is still marked with a star, filed under his favorites (he knows he probably should have moved it).

One ring. Two rings. Three. A ‘toot’ at the end of the line—it makes him antsy. 

Then, the veils go down. 

The action is alarming; these opponents move themselves like chess pieces, he knows this much—all part of a bigger plan, always with an underlying motive.

His thumb hovers over the call button again, thinking. The expression on his face remains impassive, sharp angles and straight lines concealing the weight of each worry. 

“Nanami-san,” Ino calls. 

Fushiguro’s already started theorizing, rationalizing some sort of ploy behind this occurrence—all highly plausible, all probably true; it’s some sick play that the moment the calculations click, there isn’t enough time to call you. 

“That’s why we’ve stopped standing by and started to act,” Nanami interjects, shrugging off his blazer, khaki cotton falling off his shoulders as he slips his phone in his pant pocket. 

.

If anything, you should probably do your best to enjoy whatever you can from this year’s Halloween party—after all, it’ll be your last in this company. You handed in your resignation papers last week, and though your boss has pulled you aside for the nth time tonight, disguising pleas as empty promises, you know better than to believe it.

It doesn’t matter to you anymore; you’ve made up your mind. 

The bartender mixes you another drink: 2 ounces of bourbon for a ball of ice, the same one you’ve been having the entire night. 

A White Russian is your usual pick—a spiked latte as you call it. Nanami’s claimed that Bourbon On The Rocks is like its older, more mature cousin, and you’re afraid he’s right. He always is.

The hints of vanilla and caramel remind you of your morning pick-me-up, part because of the drink and part because of the man you used to spend it with. 

Your phone vibrates from your inner pocket, but you don’t feel it, the alcohol dulling your senses. 

.

“Na-na-na-na-na-na-min!” 

For this reason, he thinks, it’s good that the nickname has stuck; a perfect identifier for whom and where it’s coming from. 

Echoes of Itadori’s voice lead them straight to a rooftop, Fushiguro catching the boy’s attention to ask for the run-down. Mechamaru warns that it’s pandemonium deep within the station, curses of all grades mixed with scattered transfigured humans. There’s only one thing he knows can be responsible for that. 

Nanami doesn’t do jokes, but he secretly wishes this is just a really bad one, because—

Gojo’s been sealed. 

—the punch line isn’t funny at all. 

Sorcery has prepared Nanami for anything, but this possibility lies in his 0.01%—if this has happened, it’s free game. 

It makes sense now, why this unease has slowly been surfacing. 

Keep people safe and survive—the single thought at the forefront of his mind. 

He moves quickly, devising a plan for maximum efficiency; Ino is to stay with Fushiguro and Itadori inside this veil while he meets up with Ijichi to put down the other one. Time is running short, options even more so—there are only a handful of people who can do certain requests and being a first-grade qualifies him as one of them. 

Eerie silence greets him as he steps out on the sidewalk, the streets practically swept. It’s instinct when his hand reaches in his pant pocket, fingers moving in memorized pattern as he calls you again.

You don’t pick up for the second time.

.

One of your co-workers almost trips down the steps to the taxi, your arm stretched out to catch her should she fall forward completely. Cool air nips at your cheeks; you’ve had more to drink but you handle liquor well—if managing to keep up with Nanami means anything. 

The vibrations of your phone get lost in the commotion. You haul your co-worker into the cab and tell the driver her address, asking if he can drive you to yours soon after. 

.

It’s shit.

Climbing up the steps to the overpass fills him with a sense of foreboding. A sickening dread. On the way here, he spotted four managers, dead. 

The sight before him angers him more than anything—blood pooling around Ijichi’s frame, crumpled on the ground. He steps closer, crouching low to check for a pulse; it’s faint, but it’s there, accompanying the man’s shallow breathing. 

He does quick work bringing Ijichi to the rescue team, hopefully fast enough to make it back to Shoko where she can fix him. 

The casualties are rising. 

It isn’t safe anymore. The radius of collateral damage is widening and this is just the beginning.

What will happen to you? If the events in here break containment? 

How can he keep you safe if jujutsu society falls? 

He crunches the numbers, sorting through each possibility; the phone in his pocket feels heavy, sinking with each step he takes on concrete. It’s not often that Nanami runs out of options—there’s always an answer to anything; but this, he thinks, has never made him feel more desperate.

His fingers hover over your contact again. 

There’s not enough time—this is the only way. 

He needs to get you out of here. 

. 

You’re left with a voicemail. 

The key slips from your hand, falling to the ground again, like the many times it has before. You step inside your apartment, swiping through your notifications to find two missed calls and an email. 

It’s confusing enough getting calls from the ex you drunk dial once a week; receiving a flight notice set to depart later tonight with a ticket under your name doesn’t make things any clearer. 

You tap your screen, odd anticipation and nerves coiling in your belly. 

“Hello,” the audio starts, “I’m assuming you received the email.” 

His voice sounds different when you’re a little more sober; you’re not sure if that’s a good thing—if it’s worse or better, just that it aches the more you hear him clearly. You kick off your heels, letting the audio play as you pour yourself a glass of water. 

Your ticket details stare at you from your screen. 

(Shouting isn’t a quiet man’s usual and his throat hurts from the overexhaustion. His voice echoes across the sea, calling for everyone to hurry over. There’s only so much Fushiguro can take from beside him, holding open the simple domain for everyone to slip through simultaneously.

He supposes, this isn’t the first time he’s done something out of character today—moving your flight and hoping you get on it is the most reckless thing he’s ever done.)

“I’m sorry this is so sudden, I understand if you’re confused. I know most of our conversations have been unideal lately.”

Metal clinks in the recording, a sound so familiar to you—the links of his watch band hitting. Nanami has a habit of shaking his wrist when he’s uneasy about something, and you can almost hear it from the small breaths he takes before each sentence. 

It should embarrass you, the amount of times you’ve drunk-called him, but you have reason to believe he doesn’t find it all that off-putting. 

(He wonders if he’ll get another chance to sit through one more unideal conversation with you. 

Blood drips down the side of his head, his shoulder slashed through his shirt. Adrenaline moves every muscle he barely has the energy to.)  

“Do you… do you remember that vacation we planned?” he breathes out from the other end, a hesitancy uncommonly heard from him, “To Kuantan?” 

You do, very vividly—a trip discussed some time ago with your head on his chest, scrolling through flight promos on your phone. Nanami’s dream has always been to be free by the sea; you don’t expect it from a man turned jaded, but it feels like a secret spoken truthfully. 

So you take it and run, booking a flight two years down the line—a ‘when we have the time’ flexible enough to move and transfer whenever either of you would like. 

(In a flash, he’s flushed along with the current, waves engulfing him as he’s washed out of the domain.) 

“I’ve thought about it and believe now would be a good time,” his voice continues, “with your resignation and things. ” 

The spray sunblock on your dresser is barely used, but you grab it knowingly. Nanami is pale and—

(—when he burns, he thinks of the Kuantan sun—how nice it would be to be under it, bathed in the deep orange afterglow next to you.)  

“I…” Nanami rarely stutters, but you hear a slight shake to his timbre, “I know this is a tough ask, especially when I’ve been unfair to you. But…” 

You can picture him clearly—hand running through his hair as he adjusts his lenses; he pinches the bridge of his nose before shaking his wrist, that familiar metal clinking. 

It almost sounds pained, his acknowledgment of it, as if he’s long since regretted treating you any less than you deserve. Does it make you stupid? Or sad? That you still hang on to every word he says, that the spaces between your fingers still miss the way he used to fill them. 

You drag the zipper of your bag shut, patting it down to flatten.

“...I hope you know the reason I left isn’t because of something you did.”

The Nanami you know speaks nothing but the truth, and you believe him each time. 

It’s a contradicting mix of comfort and anxiety, like he’s freed you from the guilt that used to weigh on you heavily. If it isn’t because of you though, you don’t know what else it could be. 

You sigh, pushing down on the door handle as you take one last look to make sure you didn’t leave anything. 

(It’s a lie when he tells himself he can’t feel anything; the left side of his body is burned, charred down to his sinews—it's a surprise he can still move. The damage should have been enough to numb him, but it still hurts when he thinks of you. 

Did you receive his voicemail? Are you on your way now?

Time moves slowly as he drags his feet across the station floor.) 

“I’ll… explain myself more when I see you in a few hours.” 

Your stomach starts feeling funny when you get in the taxi—the pauses in his recording are obvious. 

You wonder what’s going on in his head. 

(This is cruel, he knows, concealing the truth and feeding you false hope. He’s a liar, but there’s no other way. There’s no time to explain everything to you. 

If this is what gets you out of here—) 

Silence. 

You hear his footsteps through the recording, the sound of his feet shuffling, contemplating. 

He speaks again, hesitancy tinged with sadness you can’t decipher, “I apologize, if this is out of nowhere,” a  breath, “but I hope I was good to you in the time we had.” 

You shift in your seat, fiddling with your fingers. There’s a finality to his tone that you find oddly misplaced—the sound of a goodbye more than a second try. 

It is wholly unlike him to be this sentimental. 

Tears well up in your lash line as you think back to everything: how he used to wait for you after work despite it being past midnight, how weekends were filled with nothing but love, massaged into the soles of your feet; how he’d buy your favorite breakfast sandwich even though he’s a snob about the ingredients in it. He drove you anywhere as long as you had music control. 

Nanami is an old soul, and you indulged him by buying records for that vintage record player he has. Songs from the 50’s, 60’s, maybe a bit of jazz from the 70’s and 80’s too—for a man so stiff, he sways smoothly to its melodies, holding you closely each time. 

He has only ever touched you gently, attentive to every need you express lovingly; his kisses always form a line straight to your heart—from the top of your head to your forehead, down between your eyebrows to the slope of your nose. His lips are soft against yours, ticklish as they drag down your neck to your collarbones. 

A patient and tender lover, the most wonderful man for the greatest years of your life. 

He was more than good to you—you couldn’t have asked for any better. 

(A mess of curses greet him on the floor—transfigured humans he has no choice but to take the lives of. 

He’s exhausted. 

His blade swooshes to the right, body following the path it glides to. He allows himself a glimpse of rest, to think of how it must feel to dance by the glistening seaside with you.) 

“You were the best thing to happen to me in that shitty place.”

His honesty rings loudly in your ears, resounding even as you pull up your luggage to the check-in counter 

Oftentimes, Nanami would say things and they’d sound a lot like ‘I love you’.

“I hope I can be good to you now, too.”

(Saying it would have been selfish—it’s good he didn’t, even though he wanted to. Those 3 words mean nothing if there’s no guarantee he’ll be alive to prove it to you.

A hand presses against his back; a crack in his soul.) 

“The details are in the email, I’ll be there when you land.” he pauses; it takes a beat before he continues again, “See you then.”

You’re half-nervous and half-excited as you board the plane. The voicemail sounds suspicious, his actions even moreso, but if what he’s saying is true—

(It flashes before him, too fast and too slow; Haibara smiling, the life he couldn’t save. Yuuji calling him from the corner, a ‘Nanamin’ one last time. 

Then there’s you. Just as he’s about to give in to it all—the beach. How pretty you’d look, beaming up at him, pointing towards the sun as it sets into the endless sea.)

“Don’t forget to turn off the lights.” he says softly, like a reminder to be cradled safely. 

You settle into your seat, the captain speaking over the announcement system. 

“Flight MH 1730 to Kuantan, Malaysia from Tokyo, Japan. Departure time is 11:16 p.m. Estimated arrival…”

—you can’t wait. 

(At least he’ll get to save your life, right?

Nanami Kento. Time of death: 11:17 p.m.)

a/n: writing this was really tough (because it absolutely gutted me), but it was a good challenge! a few info bits: partners = high ranking roles in the company; white russian = vodka, coffee liqueur, & cream + ice; the flight details are not real; the pov switching is real time, except for the voicemail, which acts as a voiceover to the events concurring between nanami and you.

thank you notes: to @augustinewrites OF COURSE. what would i do without you fr. this has plagued us for the longest time and we have been way too sad for too damn long bc of it 😭 thank you for half-mothering this, where would i be without your sad songs 🥹 + @mysugu and @soumies for running through this idea & the voicemail dialogue with me 🥺 very important opinions from very important people indeed 🥺 + @stellamancer for helping me with my grammar doubts 😭

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡