ikihtoe

[ikihtoe]

are smaus still relevant?🥀

[ikihtoe]

thanks for tagging cal<3 been v offline here so idrk who to tag lol

currently reading: apothecary diaries LN vol.1 (natsu hyuuga), murder is mystery (agatha christie)

last song: my all (mariah carey)

last film: my best friend anne frank

last series: the apothecary diaries s2

sweet/savory/salty: I love all tbh, but I'll pick sweet any day

tea or coffee: coffee (with sweetener)

working on: daily consistency, reading more, trying to make this smau work, trying to work out, learning german & japanese, finding a proper schedule for myself

I've been really into apothecary diaries recently, as you can see, so after catching up with the anime I went to find ebooks as a rookie reader (with full of shame im sorry), just downloaded till vol.10👍. the last time I listened to a song (that) was bc I found a sylus ai singing My All and i was captivated and went to hear how it actually sounds (I'm not justifying ai but it js sounded just like him)

free tags!

TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW MORE

tried to reblog the original post but it was gone so here we are i guess. thanks for tagging me leigh!!!!! @poemeater <3 i love you to pluto and back come kiss me now

currently reading: nothing actually. walk of shame

last song: man in the mirror — michael jackson

last film: captain america brave new world

last series: new girl season 3, mha season 2 (rewatch), wbk s2

sweet/savory/salty?: savory + salty!!! but i would give up both kidneys for some cinnamon sugar pretzels rn

tea or coffee: tea always

working on: packing to move states in july, weeding through some rough friendships that no longer serve me, picking up guitar again, and. well. kinktober ‘25

no pressure tags 🤍 @carminechrollo @admiringlove @madaqueue @cheralith @bouqette @mochiqa @mosskissed @storiesoflilies @toadba @tokeposts @hiraethwrote sorry if you’ve been tagged i tried to choose people i haven’t tagged in awhile/at all hehe

[ikihtoe]

behind doors

the jjk men start an argument and doubt you for not spending enough time with them, unaware of your situation. (requested)

part 1 | taglist open | masterlist here

incl: gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, toji

[ikihtoe]

just saw recent jjk sketches by gege sensei and I truly believe it's time for me to kms!

[ikihtoe]

is German lit hard

[ikihtoe]

life is flavorless (no more storage on phone = no more honkai = cannot download lads)

[ikihtoe]

I miss aysha btw😢

[ikihtoe]

somehow found one of my mutual's tiktok?😭

[ikihtoe]

things have been very bittersweet and confusing for the past year, definitely not my best!! but i’m pushing through Alhamdulilah and just craved writing again. oh yeah i go by qal now just because it’s a nice twist on my @ BUT you can still call me zee in dms if you’re more comfortable with that 🤍

how are youu?? tell me everything, don’t hold back, i’ve got my office chair and pen and paper ready to hear your thoughts and concerns

it's nice to hear that^^ and same, I've been wanting to write for so long but nothing is cooking in my brain😭 I've been meaning to pick up a book to jog my mind but hardcopies r so expensive lol, though im borrowing one from a friend and im halfway there. I'm going to uni in August so I have a lot of spare time.

I'll switch from one to another if that's okay! (I forget about alot of stuff)

[ikihtoe]

Red Bull Suguru Geto and Ferrari Satoru Gojo!

[ikihtoe]

hey hi HELLOOO, it's zee coming back from the depths and settling under the canopy of a new blog <3 I MISS YOU

HIII ZEE BB WELCPME BACK 🤍

I missed you too omg i rlly wanted to chat a little with you a while ago, how are things hun?

[ikihtoe]

"hmm, is it green apple?"

you giggle in his arms, shaking your head no and smile as he leans down to press another kiss on your lips.

the past fifteen minutes had been spent trapped under his arms while he kisses your plump, flavourful, lips. it started out when you put on some chapstick and he asks for some. you knew that this was his way of getting a kiss, but when his lips press against yours the flavor is different than your normal vanilla, its fruitier. "what flavor is that?" he asks, pulling you closer to him to plant another kiss on your lips, "berry?"

"no" you say smiling as you await his actions. hoping that he does exactly what you expect him too.

and he falls into your trap. the next fifteen minutes are spent with his lips on yours as he guesses what flavor it could be. strawberry? mango? pineapple?

all no.

at this point all he could taste was his own spit on your lips. completely kissed away all the chapstick that coated your lips. he breaks the last kiss with a whine.

"y/n put some more on, i can't taste it anymore." he loosens his grip on your body as you shift underneath him to find the chapstick in your pocket.

"close your eyes, i dont want you to see the label." you tell him and he obliges, squeezing his eyes shut in a childish manner as you apply the chapstick on your lips.

once you're done you toss the tube away, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down, he's smiling. his lips press against yours yet again but this time it's different. the kiss is deeper, he cups your face and his toungue swipes on your lips and you open your mouth slightly to let the wet muscle enter. it takes your breath away and you start to feel dizzy from his touch and all the sensations happening around you. he pulls away, a thin string of saliva connected the two of you. your eyes are still closed, processing what happened when you hear him say,

"it's berry isnt it?"

you nod your head no, hoping he will kiss you like that again, and he does. but little do you know that he caught a glimpse of the berry graphic on the label when you pulled out the chapstick from your pocket.

HINATA SHOYO. (probably doesn't notice the label though tbh). BOKUTO, hanamaki, oikawa fucking tooru, sugawara (he knew from the start it was berry but goes along with the act to amuse you), akaashi (same as sugawara). NISHINOYA. (same as shoyo, genuinely continues to guess), ATSUMU. KITA FUCKING SHINSUKE (he knew from the first kiss, but realized that this made you happy). KUROO. SUNAAAAA.

[ikihtoe]

Kuroo Tetsurou knows how to tie a tie. He wore one every day of high school, after all. It's not a difficult skill to master. Truthfully, he could probably do it in his sleep.

But, all those years ago, you offered so sweetly. It wasn't hard for him to say, sheepishly, "Sure. I'm not too good with these things."

Ever since, it's one of the most cherished parts of his morning routine. He watches as you hold up random ties from his collection, eying them thoughtfully before making your selection. You stand so close to him, your gentle fingers turning up his collar and looping the tie around his neck. He can smell your shampoo, feel the warmth of your skin. Your fingertips brush the sensitive skin of his neck as you make the knot, sending tiny thrills of electricity through him each time.

"There," You always say as you smooth his collar down, "Perfect." You give the knot one final tug, and it's a familiar signal. He closes the gap, pressing a kiss to your lips as you finally let go of the tie.

"Thanks, babe," He always murmurs against your lips before he pulls away.

You always grin. "Have a good day, today."

He thinks he's done well, all these years, hiding the truth from you. His one harmless fib.

It's his cousin's wedding. He's surprised to learn how many of the groomsmen really don't know how to tie a tie. He's going around the room, tying one tie after another, when he hears a familiar voice just inside the door. Freezing halfway though the final one, he slowly turns, caught in the act. You're crossing the room before he can even begin to feel foolish.

"I always knew, you know," You say simply, a teasing smile making your eyes dance. You tug the tie draped loosely around his own neck, the one he'd been saving for last. "Need a little help with that?"

As you carefully tie the tie for him, then tug him down for a sweet kiss, he thinks he might be falling in love with you all over again.

(part 2)

[ikihtoe]

your personal space has never really truly been yours since you’ve started dating him. his muscled arm around your waist when you wake up in the morning, has become as familiar as the sunrise itself. it used to be cute, his warmth a cozy start to the day. but now, it's suffocating, like he can't bear to let you go, even in his sleep.

you shift carefully under his weight, not wanting to disturb his sleep. his breath keeping its steady rhythm against your neck, and you wonder if he dreams of you as you lean in to kiss his forehead gently. he smiles in his sleep, a small, contented expression that almost makes you want to slip right back into his arms.

the sheets rustle softly as you slip out from his grip. you slowly tiptoe across your shared bedroom, craving the simple pleasure of being able to enjoy making coffee alone. the smell of freshly ground beans fills the kitchen, and you lean against the counter, enjoying the quiet morning.

but as your coffee brews, a twinge of guilt creeps in and you can almost imagine when he'll wake up and wonder where you've gone. despite enjoying the well needed alone time, you knew the longing to be close to him will pull you back into his embrace sooner than you'd planned. almost as if in complete sync with your thoughts, you hear a mumble approaching the kitchen, and then his voice, thick with sleep, calling out softly,

"angel cmon back to bed with me, you know i don’t like sleeping without you"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gojo, nanami, bakugou, iwaizumi hajime (27) althetic trainer, oikawa, kuroo, geto, choso, yuji, midoriya

[ikihtoe]

I DONT UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE. DIE IN MY ARMS

[ikihtoe]

— 15:44, unintentional triggers .

contents: established relationship. domestic softness. quiet longing. praise as affection. and you, absolutely losing your mind over it.

you’re just peeling vegetables.

not anything poetic. not anything heroic. not even anything you’d remember tomorrow. just perched on the stool by the kitchen island, a chipped ceramic bowl in your lap, fingers steady as you drag the peeler down the side of a potato. your legs sway a little, socked feet brushing against the base of the stool, and the late afternoon light pools against your back, warm and slow like honey.

it’s one of those quiet moments that barely registers as memory. the kind that happens a thousand times and yet somehow still matters. the kind where the air smells like garlic and home, where the sun hits the tile just right, and the only sounds are the soft scrape of blade against skin and the rhythmic thunk of a knife on the cutting board.

nanami’s standing at the counter beside you, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, his tie draped carelessly over the back of one of the chairs—a rare sight. he’s relaxed, eyes focused on the onions he’s slicing, fingers moving with calm precision. every now and then, he glances at your pile of potatoes, like he’s tracking your progress. not because he’s impatient—just because he’s looking. just because you’re there.

then, out of nowhere, he says it. his voice even, unbothered, like he’s commenting on traffic or the weather. like it isn’t a goddamn landmine.

“you always peel them so neatly,” he murmurs. “makes prep so much easier.”

you freeze.

mid-peel, blade halfway down a russet potato, your fingers stutter. your breath catches, just for a second. not because the words themselves are extraordinary—they’re so normal—but because of the way he says them. like they mean something. like you mean something. like this small, mundane thing you’re doing is valuable. necessary. helpful.

it hits somewhere deep. not in your chest, not in your stomach—deeper than that. the place where affection settles before you even recognize it as such.

you blink down at the potato in your hands, now stripped of most of its skin, and feel something warm crawl up the back of your neck.

“…thanks,” you manage, but it comes out too soft. barely audible. you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the way your wrists are dusted with peelings, how ridiculous that should be to get flustered over. so you duck your head, hum like you���re just focused, and hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse is suddenly loud in your ears.

nanami just keeps slicing, none the wiser. not even a pause.

—

it happens again two days later.

you’re half-awake, standing by the window in one of his shirts, hair a soft mess from sleep, watering the little forest of plants you’ve cultivated over time. nanami passes by on his way to grab a file from the bookshelf. he’s not dressed yet, still in the soft gray shirt he sleeps in, his hand brushing your back gently as he walks behind you.

he presses a kiss to your temple, barely more than a breath of contact, and murmurs against your hair, “you’re so good at remembering them. i always forget.”

your hand stills on the watering can.

there it is again. that same weightless sincerity. no expectation, no performance—just honest, matter-of-fact appreciation. and once again, it folds you in half from the inside out. your body doesn’t know whether to melt or short-circuit.

you swallow hard, staring down at the aloe plant like you’ve just been handed the nuclear codes.

he keeps walking.

you almost want to scream.

—

after that, you start keeping a count. not out loud. not anywhere he could find it. just a little running tally in your head of all the moments he says things like that. things that sound like simple facts but land like full-body hits.

 • thursday, when you reorganize the kitchen drawers:

“you arrange things in a way that actually makes sense. i’d be lost without you.”

 • saturday, after you remember his coworker’s birthday and send a note with him:

“thank you for always being thoughtful. you notice things others don’t.”

 • monday, while you’re brushing his hair back post-shower, his eyes closed in quiet trust:

“your hands are so gentle. it’s like you were made for this.”

you nearly combust at that one. nearly bite your tongue trying not to squeak. you pull your hands away a second too fast and pretend you didn’t feel your heart slam against your ribs like it was trying to break free.

he blinks at you, puzzled, but chalks it up to the steam or the timing or maybe the water temperature. he doesn’t press. just goes back to humming contentedly as you towel off the ends of his hair.

you think you might die like this. slowly. painfully. lovingly.

—

the final straw comes on a tuesday evening.

the sky is dipped in soft gold outside the windows. the kind of light that makes everything feel suspended—like the day is holding its breath before slipping into night. you’re curled up on the couch, legs tucked under you, a blanket draped over your knees. there’s a book open in your lap, but you’re barely reading. mostly you’re just listening to the quiet rhythm of him breathing beside you.

nanami’s in his usual spot, one arm resting across the back of the couch, glasses low on his nose as he reads through some report. you don’t speak, don’t need to. you just reach over, wordlessly, and hand him the cup of tea you made him earlier—just the way he likes it. strong, a little sugar, splash of milk.

he takes it, offers a soft sound of thanks. then, after a sip, glances at you over the rim.

“you always remember exactly how i like it,” he says.

and you groan, just a quiet, suffering noise, one hand dragging over your face like you’re trying to physically reset your brain.

he startles, eyebrows twitching upward. “did i say something wrong?”

you drop your hands and turn to him, wide-eyed and exasperated and pink all over. you look at him like you’re on the edge of a confession—because in a way, you are.

“you don’t even know, do you?” you whisper.

nanami blinks, visibly confused. “…know what?”

you lean forward, blanket slipping from your lap. “you say things like that and it destroys me. every single time.”

his brow furrows. “like what?”

you hold up your fingers and start ticking them off, your voice somewhere between awe and agony. “you always remember. you’re so good at this. i’d be lost without you. you’re thoughtful. you’re gentle. do you know what that does to me?”

he just stares at you for a second. then—very slowly—his lips part, and something shifts in his eyes. realization creeps in, soft and quiet, and then it blooms.

he smiles. warm and full of something you can’t quite name. the kind of smile that curls at the corners of his mouth like he’s found a secret he intends to keep.

“i meant every word,” he says, setting his book aside with a gentle thud.

you narrow your eyes. “i know. that’s the problem.”

he shifts closer, close enough that his thigh brushes yours beneath the blanket. then he leans in, presses a kiss to your cheek, and murmurs, “then let me say it again.”

you let out a strangled sound and immediately bury your face in his shoulder.

he chuckles—low, fond, smug in the most affectionate way possible—and wraps an arm around you.

“you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he adds, voice warm against your ear. “you know that?”

you make another miserable noise and nudge your forehead harder into the crook of his neck.

count: 9.

and something tells you it’s only going to get worse from here.

(worse. better. same thing.)

[ikihtoe]

jjk brainrot is so bad it's all I think about for the past 3 years