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OMG. YOU'RE FINALLY BACK.

I FEEL LIKE A CHILD ANXIOUSLY WAITING FOR YOU IN THE CASHIER. hurry up, mom, ts woman is looking at me 🙏

LMAOOOO

it's okay my son i'm almost back with the cheez its.

i'm only halfway back ngl LMAO

i'm leaving for a trip for THREE WEEKS TMRRW. and then after that i'll be back.

i'll crank out some shit to post on the plane while my sister's sleeping tho

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i just recently came across your acc and i LOVE ur smaus 😭😭 some genuinely made me lol but i was wondering if you could start adding ino to the characters u write abt? ik u said there are specific characters you dont write abt, so is ino one of them?

oh my gorsh tysm!

also no i dont write for ino yet...

HOWEVER. once i rewatch season 2 a couple more times im gonna add more ppl to the current line up.

unfortunately i am an anime only (who keeps up with manga spoilers) so i dont know a lot abt the characters that appear more in the manga...

it's nothing personal abt the characters. i just feel very content with the way i portray my current line up and want to reach that level of confidence w other characters!

so not yet but soon hopefully!

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Not a question but

It's so refreshing to see jjk smau's that capture the characters so well 😭😭 genuinely busted out laughing in some I woke up my husband 💀💀 (it's almost 2am) thank you for doing them! 🫶 (I may have stalked and binged them all 🫣) LOL

STOPPP OMG THIS IS SO SWEET

also i rlly love picturing you laughing at 2am and ur husband waking up LMAO

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voice notes

jjk guys send you a voice note on accident

a/n: it keeps labeling as mature ugh

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me when i lie

i WILL make sure i post something by this weekend tho do not fear

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i WILL make sure i post something by this weekend tho do not fear

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i'm going to completely wipe my requests.... sorry if u submitted one and want it to be done- there's just too many and it's overwhelming 😭😭😭

feel free to resubmit tho!!!

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they need an excuse to talk to you

a/n: making my grand return even tho i should be studying for ap's rn

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"it's been a year daddy..."

anyways it's been over a month since i last updated here...

i have been busy looking at colleges

i picked which one i'm going to but it is very much not a top pick for me </3

but i am content

i will probably upload a lot more come may 12th or so!

soooo see u all then i guess

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im not mentally prepared for s3 🤕

me either....

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A FELLOW DESI QUEEN

YEPPPPP PERIOD

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i fear i just binge read all of your smaus im obsessed 😭🙏🏽

omg lets kiss

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is it casual now?

a/n: me when i’m- me when i’m- me when i’m knee deep in the passenger seat

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ghost of you- k. nanami

kento struggles to live with your death and the ghost of your memories that remain in your apartment. cw: angst, mentions of death, the best piece of fiction i've ever written before, and nanami grieving song: ghost of you by 5sos

"THERE'S YOUR COFFEE CUP- THE LIPSTICK STAIN FADES WITH TIME."

The words fell like stones. Nanami didn’t react at first. He only stood there; his gaze fixed somewhat over Yuji’s shoulder. The only sound to be heard was the faint clench of his jaw. The boy’s voice cracked, spilling apologies and fragments of how it happened but Nanami couldn’t hear any of it. The meaning of the words- she’s gone- had already carved themselves into silence. Nanami left the school without saying another word, heading back towards your shared apartment.

The apartment was exactly as you’d left it. His coat hung beside yours on the rack, the sleeves limp and lifeless. Your new shoes that you hadn’t had a chance to wear out yet sat neatly by the door, the laces slightly undone, just as you’d always left them. The book you were reading lay open on the coffee table, it’s spine soft with wear. It was your favorite. You’d spent years trying to get your husband to read it. Nanami had always told you that he would read it when he had more down time. He never did.

Nanami stopped in the hallway, his eyes falling on the scarf you always wore in colder weather. It lay draped over the arm of the couch, forgotten in your rush to leave.

He remembered the day you bought it. You had dragged him to a night market on a whim, despite him protesting, saying he needed to prepare for an upcoming mission.  You spotted the crimson scarf at a stall, wrapping it around your neck in a clumsy attempt to barter with the vendor, the deep red fabric standing out against your dark coat.

Now, it lay there, untouched and lifeless, the vibrant red dulled by the fading light from the window.

The scarf was the first thing he allowed himself to touch. It’s fabric was still soft but frayed at the edges, torn from the way you’d twist it between your fingers when you were nervous. He’s watched you do it hundreds of times- before battles, during arguments, and before you told him you wanted to live with him.

He ran his thumb over the worn threads, his breath unsteady. The scarf still smelled of your perfume. But he knew that would fade too, given time.

He avoided bed that night, sitting at the kitchen table until he was too exhausted to bear the thought of sitting up.

The faint smell of jasmine still lingered from the tea you’d made before you left the apartment that morning. The mug remained untouched, your reddish lipstick staining the rim.

Nanami remembered how you’d always insisted on using that specific mug, despite it’s chipped rim, cradling it in your hands like it was a prized possession. You refused to buy a different mug even when Nanami teased you for still using it.

He stared at it now, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. He had meant to replace it. He should have.

His hand hovered over the mug, but he didn’t pick it up. Instead, he stepped back, his movements stiff and deliberate, as if afraid to disturb your daily routine.

Sometimes Nanami felt like he was seeing a ghost. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or his wish for you to come back but every now and then, he’d round the corner and see you sitting on the couch and he’d think it was the end of his bad dream.

He smelled you too. Walking down the city streets, he’d often smell the recognizable light jasmine scene of your perfume.

All he wished for was to see you once more.

Dust gathered in the apartment. Nanami noticed it one evening as the sunlight filtered through the curtains, highlighting the dust layer that had settled over the shelves. Your job was dusting. He was still used to letting you do that aspect of the housework.

Atop a shelf sat the photograph of you that Nanami had taken on your honeymoon in paris. He stood there for a long moment, admiring the candid shot of you laughing, your head tilted toward him, your eyes bright with something he couldn’t place. You’d never liked that photo, confused why Nanami insisted on framing it. It was Nanami’s favorite photo of you. He kept a copy of it in his wallet.

His hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach for the frame. Instead, he reached into his pocket and took his handkerchief, wiping the dust from the photo before turning away, the soft creak of the floorboards the only sound as he moved through the apartment.

Nights were the hardest for him. The bed was too large for just him and much too empty now, offering no comfort. He slept in hours at a time, his dreams plagued with fragments of you- your smile, the sound of your voice, the way you’d call his  nickname.

“Ken,” you smiled.

He would wake up reaching for you, only to be met with the cold sheets and a hollow ache of reality as he didn’t feel your frame wrapped around his.

Nanami avoided your things, letting them gather dust like arifacts in a museum. Your notebook, filled with scribbles of journal entries remained untouched on your bedside table.

Once, he caught himself reaching for the notebook, his fingers hovering above the cover as though it were something sacred. He ached to hear your thoughts, the stupid and the good ones. But the thought of seeing your handwriting was too much. He left it where it was, retreating back to the kitchen to try to busy himself with boring everyday tasks.

Nanami reached for your notebook one night, unable to stop himself. Both the cover and pages were worn, littered with your handwriting- small, slanted letters that trailed off into half-finished thoughts.

He flipped through it carefully, his breath catching when he found a pressed flower tucked between the pages. He remembered the day you’d put it there. It was from the park, one you had plucked during a quiet moment during your picnic date with him.

You had smiled then, tucking the flower into your notebook without a word. Now, the fragile petals crumbled at his touch, their edges browning with time.

Food tasted different now. Nanami, who had once savored the art of cooking no longer felt the warmth he once felt when he cooked for you, letting you be the first to try his new dish. Being the first one to taste his food felt wrong. He’d always let the sink have the first spoon now.

More often than not, he would set out two plates by instinct, only to stop midway, staring at the empty space at the dining table. The second plate was always returned to the cupboard after he’d finished his mechanical and tasteless meal.

Nanami refused to speak of you, not even when prompted. Not even when Gojo made an offhanded comment about how quiet his apartment was. He simply nodded, deflecting the conversation with a remark about needing to get back to work.

But the silence stretched on, growing heavier each day. He’d become just as quiet as the apartment. His colleagues noticed how he presented himself differently. He had always been quiet and reserved at work but now it felt like he was missing his soul. There was no meaning to his work any longer. He did everything mundanely. Afterall, the only reason he rushed to finish his work before was wanting to come home to you. And now, the thought of coming home was daunting.

His new routine had swallowed him whole. Missions came and went, each one lacking more and more meaning as he continued. Nanami fought like a man with nothing to lose- precise, unflinching, yet with extreme recklessness. He’d already lost everything when he lost you, the fire he once felt for sorcery being extinguished when the very thing is what had led to your demise.

Nanami stood in the doorway of the apartment, looking at your methodical mess as he did every day when he got home. The air was still, undisturbed by your absence. Yet the apartment was full of everything you’d left behind. He hadn’t dared to move anything.

He closed his eyes, the scarf clutched in his hands, drawing in a shaky breath. The crimson scarf smelled like nothing now. The smell of your perfume had faded just like the last traces of you.

a/n: this was so depressing to write but i loved every second of it

© 2024 SEOUPS do not plagiarize, steal, translate or repost my works on any platforms!

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i’m finally finishing fairy tail.

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writing is becoming such a struggle these days

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you have a secret admirer

a/n: happy valentines day to the singles reading the #jjk fluff hashtag on tumblr.com