dunya99

[dunya99]

[redraw] villain Nanami for @killerplink's "Lost and Found" ‼️

[dunya99]

mentioning of death!! (still very fluffy though)

Satoru always had pity for the old. every time he thought about their frail and weak bones, their saggy skin, silver hair and horrendous hearing skills, he can only feel somewhat compassionate for the unfortunate.

it’s not like he himself will ever go through that, that’s what he told himself. he saw his death being something major, grand, and allowing your time spent living catching up to you is the opposite of that. and in most chances, most sorcerers don’t face their fate like that.

you knew this. ever since you first started dating the man he always reminded you to welcome in the angel with long dark wings knocking on your door with a smile, not a slap. always telling you to not allow the roses thrones prick your finger as you placed them on his grave, because they’ll prick your heart the same way.

it’s hard to digest that. it’s hard to not think about it when you while you cuddle up with your now husband, his head peacefully resting on your chest as your fingers combed through such pure hair. your eyes scanned the way his face was buried right next to your heart, pulses syncing.

quickly though, that acknowledgment flutters away the moment something illuminates in your eyes. the sun that peeked through your bedrooms blinds shimmered directly on a piece of hair that didn’t match the rest. silver. it wasn’t like his normal pure white hair, it was darker.

a smile grew on your face when you started ravaging through his head of hair, only welcomed by more and more strands on that exact colour.

for some reason, it makes you think about how much you have to scream his name for him to finally hear you. it makes you think about how more often he complains about his back, how he forces you to massage him and the room is filled with his giggles when you accidentally tickle him.

oh satoru, how silly he is to assume he’d never see the day your under eyes permanently wrinkle from how much he makes you laugh.

you lean down, leaving a tender kiss on the top of his head only to wake him up. his head sleepily shifts up facing you, his chin resting on your chest only to see your golden smile and eyes slightly watered.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” he slightly shifts, leaving a kiss on your forehead making your smile only grow.

“nothing, go back to sleep silly.”

[dunya99]

CHAPTER THREE PT. II: DIMINISHED CAPACITY ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni! | oopsie, is that... a special banner? gee I wonder if there's something to see at the end of this chapter, huh?

❀ diminished capacity.

Diminished capacity refers to an individual’s impossibility to form the intent necessary for committing any criminal act, because their capacity to fully comprehend the nature of their actions is impaired. It doesn’t, however, completely exclude their responsibility, and they may be held accountable to a lesser offense.

wc: 5.5K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. slow-burn romcom. professor and college student pre-relationship. internship interviews suck. nobara likes to steal food from people. mentions of hypothetical violent crime. nanami gets pestered by gojo even here. higuruma likes sunflowers. nanami has a sixth sense.

❀ notes etc.

Apologies to any colleagues reading the word “evidence” in place of “proof” and feeling like tackling me with a broom, lol. Also, a huge thanks to everyone who came around for part one, I hope you guys get to enjoy reading this just as much I enjoyed writing it.

Argh… Monday.

Internship hunt was hell. There was no other way to spin that wheel. You knew it’d be incredibly hard, but not this hard.

Mondays were cursed days, but to know that not only cursed, they’d also start with terrible interviews — plural — was not in your bingo card for this week. Between  oh, you just started criminal law I this semester? and we will let you know laid the crumbling sounds of your utmost despair of knowing full well you were in for a ride for those next few days.

Well, if only daydreaming about him could save you.

It didn’t, though.

Unfortunately.

You arrived at the campus cafeteria where you were supposed to meet Nobara. Even on a fairly uncomfortable chair, she slouched nearly enough to slide down onto the ground like a rag doll, and it didn’t take you much to realize these past few days were throwing her through the wringer too.

“You look like death,” you joked as you pulled your chair to sit with her, putting your tuna sandwich and can of soda over the table.

“And you look like… like… hmph,” she scoffed while rolling her eyes and propping herself back up again.

“No snarky comeback? Are you that tired?” 

“Leave me alone,” she replied, and apparently, she really wasn’t in the mood for playful banter. You took a bite out of your sandwich, pondering if you should ask her about it, but she beat you to it. “Why is getting internships this early in college is so damn hard?”

“Apparently, places don’t trust complete newbies or youngsters,” you noted, “and they want someone who has already studied all the necessary subjects prior to hiring. Also, people with prior experience are preferred.” 

“Yet these are internship opportunities! Aren’t interns supposed to be newbies who are going to learn from the experience they’ll get through the internship?” Nobara irritatedly inquired, her implied commentary more a complaint than a question. You nodded.

“Absolutely. It makes no sense, it’s like they’re just trying to hire a junior lawyer with less rights and a lower pay rate,” you churned out through your mouthful of tuna and mayonnaise, “now that I think about it, it’s probably that, actually.” 

“I can’t go back home! I mean, I made it all the way here. If I had to go back I would never get over this. I need some money, and I need some money soon, otherwise this will all just have been a waste of my time. I should just get a part time job already instead of insisting in starting my internship as fast as possible.” 

Nobara covered her face, and she sounded genuinely upset. You paused your munching for a bit, and after washing it all down with a few gulps of soda, you leaned towards her, pulling her hands from her face.

“Hey, Nobara, we’re not letting that happen, okay? Neither me, Maki, Yuuji or Megumi.” you offered in an attempt to comfort her. She let you peel her palms away, and gazed at you in a mixture of frustration and anger, which softly subsided after your comment. You decided to push your luck, just a bit. “We can refugee you in Megumi’s car. We’ll get you a hammer so you can hit passerbies for shits and giggles to let some collegiate steam out.” 

Consternated, she shook your hands off of her while you chuckled. She made her best effort to still look pissed, but you noticed a tiny smile forming on the edges of her mouth.

“That’s a shit plan, but I’ll take you up on that hammer offer,” she said, and you smiled at her, a gesture she finally reciprocated.

“I’d expect no less from you. So, tell me, in which area are you looking for internships? Fashion law?” 

“Nope, entertainment.” Nobara picked your half eaten sandwich in her hands and took a bite before you could protest. “Maki had told me it was easier to get internships in entertainment law to garner some experience for a future in fashion law, but honestly? I’m skeptical now.” 

“There might be some openings soon. Have you tried Professor Gojo’s firm? It’s the same as Professor Nanami’s, isn’t it? I mean, that giant firm with dozens of departments and that nearly every teacher at our college seems to work for.” You stretched your hand to get your sandwich back, but she slapped you away. “Hey!” 

“I need it more than you, I’m sad!” 

“I’m sad too! I had four terrible internship interviews today, give it back!” 

You both entered a silly slapping match, and the few people walking past the table would look away nervously in fear of getting dragged into the middle of whatever war was going on over a cheap cafeteria tuna sandwich.

“You were having interviews today too?! How come you never told me?! I’m gonna eat your food for not telling me stuff, you’ve been weird ever since that party that you went off for a smoke and dipped!” She took another humongous bite and you jumped over the table, finally snatching whatever remained of your food out of her hands.

“I haven’t been weird!” you had, “and yes, I did. I am interviewing for internship openings in criminal law, but… well, you’ve been through that these days yourself. You know the drill.” 

She grunted with tuna smeared around her mouth, trying to reach for the rest of your sandwich, and it was your turn to slap her.

“Stop it, Nobara. Quit being so stingy and buy one for yourself!” 

“Not when I can eat your food for free,” she joked while taking a big gulp from your soda can, and you sighed, which only gave her a shit eating grin. “Did you interview for that spot they announced today?” 

“What? What opening?”

“I just saw it, there was a new flyer on the main hall board. It’s an internship for criminal law, apparently under the guidance of Professor Geto,” Nobara said while shrugging. “Apparently the huge firm now has a criminal law department too. It was announced last week or so.” 

“Did it say up until when they were taking applications?” 

***

Each and every tendon in your body tensed as you sat with the perfect lady-like crossed ankles at the 45º angle under your second-hand suit. The meeting room was, for the lack of a better word, mighty, having an entire glass wall peering into the rest of the office, and towered over you high enough to have you feeling like a tiny speck of dust humbly drifting its way over the clearly expensive brown, leather couch. A few people walked by as you waited, and the mahogany table seemed big enough to fit three people. It was probably worth your entire year’s tuition, and you wondered if the ceiling height really needed to be tailored for elves. Or ents. Tree people, perhaps.

The firm’s name hung high right in front of you, the logo and letters made out of stainless steel illuminated by LEDs behind it. Opulence wasn’t a big enough word to describe that pompous display of corporate wealth.

You were fished out of your rags to riches daydreams by the pivoting door opening, figuring it was your interviewer for the position. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the already well-known foxy-eyed, long haired Professor to come in, but a much more stoic individual with the polar opposite for a hair, not only in length but in color too. You already knew him from afar, as your commercial law Professor. He carried himself in a dignified manner, and upon further inspection, not only was his navy blue suit absolutely pristine, he also didn’t have a single hair strand out of place. You got up to greet him, bowing respectfully, and he returned the gesture.

“Good afternoon, Mrs.,” he said as he sat down on his chair across from you, “my name is Nanami Kento and I’ll be responsible for your interview today.”

You introduced yourself, and remarked, “apologies, but I thought Prof- I mean, Mr. Geto would be the one responsible for this interview today.”

 “As it stands currently, the criminal law department is my responsibility,” Nanami clarified, “so I decided I’d be the one responsible for interviewing our future team. I currently work in our corporate law department.”

You acquiesced with a professional smile. Something about how every tiny detail in him was on point gave you enough leads to conclude that of course this man took it upon himself to be the one responsible for the interviews.

“I’ve read in your resume that you are currently undertaking criminal law I and criminal procedure law I,” Nanami said as he held your resume in his hand, glancing at you and then at the paper, “which isn’t ideal for an intern entering a newly built department.”

Harsh enough?

You readjusted yourself on your chair before speaking.

“Yes, I am.”

He hummed quietly and pulled another paper sheet from his briefcase, and even if his facial expression was perfectly collected, something about how the edges of his lips curled gave away that he was less than happy about whatever was written on it.

“Our HR insisted I should bring this questionnaire with me today, so that I could ask you this list of questions as part of our interview,” he stated, his words followed by a quiet sigh. Nanami then proceeded to tilt the paper towards him and took a moment before proceeding. “Tell me more about yourself in three… captivating anecdotes.”

His voice sounded robotic, as if he was feigning not to loathe the question at hand, and deep down, you did find it amusing. Not enough to distract yourself from the fact that you were usually horrible at interviews altogether, though.

“I’m currently in my late twenties. I started law school last year, and worked during my early twenties to save money for tuition. I’m really passionate about criminal law, that is why I applied.”

Oh, God. What was that?

Well, you sounded robotic too, listing off obvious factualities as if providing a recipe’s ingredients. Both of you stared at each other in silence, wondering if that was what this question was supposed to infer, and it took the two of you so long to speak up again that it became uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat, Nanami unconsciously loosened his tie — barely — before continuing.

Well, at least I’m not the only one who’s uncomfortable.

“What…” he paused for a moment, and seemed to be biting down a discontented sigh, “animal would you be?” His gaze quickly darted down the sheet of paper, and his displeasure was palpable. For someone with such a straight face, his eyes were very telling.

What are these questions? Are we a hip tech company? Nanami thought to himself, wondering if he should make a new list to leave at HR. He was quick to discard the thought once he realized that meant he’d be telling other people how to do their jobs, something he did enough of already.

You didn’t quite know what the hell to answer.

“I… don’t know? I haven’t really thought about that in my life? A cat, perhaps?”

“I haven’t thought about that either, don’t worry, that’s unimportant. Let’s move on to the next question. How…” Nanami lifted an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to tell he was absolutely consternated, “many basketballs can fit inside a bus?”

“… Huh?”

Is this serious?

“I apologize, I believe there must have been some sort of mix-up at the HR, let me…”

Nanami was interrupted by three knocks on the glass wall. You both turned your heads to see Professor Gojo pointing at something — the paper Nanami held in his hands — while subsequently making a thumbs up, a wide grin smeared all over his face.

Without uttering a word nor missing a beat, Nanami got up, walked towards the glass and pulled on something you hadn’t yet noticed. Immediately, blinds slowly descended in front of the glass wall, and Nanami calmly walked his way back to his chair as Gojo’s face tried to keep peering inside the meeting room, descending alongside the rim of the blinds. He kept plastering his hands over the glass like a mimic.

A faint pained moan and a thud echoed once the blinds were about a foot away from reaching the floor.

“Is everything okay?” you inquired, pointing at Gojo’s direction.

“Ignore that.”

That wasn’t a request. You nodded. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect. Let’s also ignore this for a while,” Nanami remarked while putting the sheet of questions aside with his fingertips as if it was radioactive. “Let’s try something else.”

Nanami had this feeling — a familiar one — that he’d be able to pry from you what he needed to know if he went about this interview in a more practical fashion. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I’m going to describe a hypothetical scenario, and I want you to debate it with me,” he stated.

“Okay.”

“A client comes to this office being investigated of homicide and he wants to hire the firm to represent them in Court. They intend to plead not guilty.” you nodded, and Nanami continued, “The victim was shot, but there was no gun to be found in the crime scene. However, the client was the only person in the vicinity apart from the victim’s body. The client’s clothes — a long sleeved shirt and jeans — are evidence that has been collected at the crime scene, but no forensics were requested for it by the prosecution. When questioned in their first meeting, the client is adamant that they did not commit the crime. The attorney needs to decide which path to take regarding evidence they’ll request or submit. Now, I ask you, which type of evidence would the attorney request if the client is truly innocent?”

You took a deep breath while mentally going over the hypothetical scenario Nanami had just relayed, and considering all he mentioned, there was only one possibility.

“If my client was truly innocent, I’d ask for forensic evidence on their clothes. Guns leave gunpowder vestiges on things like clothes, so if this person didn’t actually pull the trigger, there should be no gunpowder on their sleeves.”

Nanami acquiesced, but remained silent. 

Ok, this is not the only thing he wants to know.

“Also… I’d tell exactly that to the client.”

Nanami’s face remained completely expressionless, but something about how he tilted his head less than an inch gave you the feeling that he seemed pleased with your answer.

“And why would you do that?”

“We need to work with accurate information. If the client was lying, and we submitted a request for that evidence — forensics on their clothes — we’d be tanking their defense. They need to know what we’ll be submitting as evidence and why. I believe telling that to our client would be enough to sway them into telling us the truth,” you sighed, before concluding, “people lie. Even when they shouldn’t.”

Nanami silently picked your resume back into his hands, and seemed to scan it quickly with his eyes. You knew your chances were slim, considering you had just started Criminal Law that very semester, something he didn’t fail to notice.

After a minute, he spoke again.

“Would you be willing to use some of your spare time to study topics you might not have seen yet in criminal law?”

“Yes.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest. This was it.

Here goes nothing.

“Then, it’s settled. Can you start on Monday?”

***

This wasn’t Higuruma’s usual go-to wish when he found himself behind the Passo’s wheel, but truth of the matter was, he hoped more than anything for his car to breakdown before he got to his destination. It wasn’t something completely out of the question considering his car’s track record, but as if some destiny’s mockery had been bestowed upon him that morning, even the clack-clack-clacks he was already used to hear for the past three months were gone. As Murphy’s Law would have it, the Passo glided over the asphalt like butter. 

“Of course you won’t fail me when I need you to, you unreliable piece of-”he muttered to himself under a discontented huff.

Put upon wasn’t strong enough to convey how Higuruma was feeling, his knuckle-white grip around the steering wheel being enough to give him a sharp pain in his palms that would surely follow him for the next few hours. In a sense, he had been knuckle-white tense ever since that morning, thinking about this endeavor he was kicking himself to push through. It was the nth time he’d tried to make that visit over the past year, one that he dreaded with each and every fiber of his being. 

The Professor eyed his passenger’s seat for a second, his gaze lingering on the plastic bag he carried with him that day. Inside, there were a bottle of Kirin, an incense, and a single sunflower. The flower was definitely too long to fit properly inside the bag, and it’s head peeped though the opening, yellow petals flickering while the car moved, every ridge on the road seemingly making it jump further and further out of its container.

With one hand on the wheel, and the other reaching out, he tried shoving the sunflower back into the bag, and in between eyeing the bag, then the road, picking the flower, pushing it, the bag sliding off the seat, loud news coming on the radio, Higuruma getting startled, his glasses slipping down his nose bridge, him pushing them back in place with his shoulder, tires screeching, a car horn, his heart pounding and his ears ringing, Higuruma came to the sensible conclusion that he should, as any responsible adult would, take a break.

I need a smoke.

Who he was visiting was definitely not going anywhere.

Checking where he was, Higuruma noticed a cafe nearby, and as fate would have it, there was a single parking spot right in front of it. He maneuvered the Passo, and the car fit neatly in between the white lines. Higuruma pulled his sunflower shawl — this time, not caught under any death trap, but laid over his back seat  alongside your scarf —, threw it around his neck and got out. He took a moment to stretch his fingers in the cold air, his breath clouding in front of his mouth, and tapped around his coat to take his wallet, finally inserting some coins into the park meter and crossing the guardrail by the sidewalk. 

He’d have exactly thirty minutes to get his shit together.

The cafe was warm, inviting, and strangely familiar, its orange light almost emanating the smell of coffee beans, croissants and decadent redemption for weary travelers. The store front had a glass display through which he saw an assortment of sweet and salty baked goods. Higuruma would probably pick one of those to eat — the greasiest one, if possible —, had he not been carrying a rock in place of his stomach for the past few hours.

With his resolution waning, he mindlessly took a step back while peeping, and sighed, his tired sigh weighing on his body deciding for him that an espresso was probably the way to go.

Stepping inside, Higuruma paid no mind to whatever was around him, and waited for his turn in line to order his drink. Across from him, you nearly choked, half a donut shoved into your powdered-sugar smeared mouth, nearly spilling your own coffee over your second-hand suit.

After your interview, you thought it’d be a good idea to have a snack, and made your way inside the closest, warmest, coziest cafe you found, which was across the firm. 

At that moment, you found yourself in a cliché adult life predicament — you just saw someone you knew, but they didn’t see you. Should you go over to greet them? Should you not? Would simply leaving be rude? Should you go actually talk to the man you definitely had — and shouldn’t have — a crush on?

You clutched your coffee harder as the thoughts flew around in your mind, as second nature at this point to avoid giving him another beverage shower.

After some quick consideration, you decided you would at least say hello, after all, it was the polite thing to do. You shoved the rest of your food into your mouth, washed it all down with the rest of your coffee, haphazardly cleaned around your mouth with a napkin and slowly walked towards him, stopping a few feet away. Somehow, he still hadn’t seen you, apparently too immersed in thought.

That was when you noticed a shawl around his neck.

It was pretty damn ugly.

“Professor, hi!” you greeted, and Higuruma got yanked out of whatever daydreams — or waking nightmares — he had been simmering in while waiting in line.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t expect to meet anyone here,” Higuruma replied, “I just stopped by for a snack.”

“Oh, nice. Their coffee is pretty good,” you said, “I got the espresso.”

“And… I hope that you’re finished already? With your coffee, I mean.” he asked while checking your hands, his usually unaffected tone slightly playful, earning him a chuckle from you.

“Rest assured, I’m not assaulting you nor your ugly shawl with my coffee,” you quipped, but his eyes only widened. His owlish eyes blinked once, and then twice, in absolute silence.

That was when you realized.

Oh. I said that out loud.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Awfully hypocritical of both of us, huh?” he noted, with a discreet smile pulling on his lips. 

Relieved, realizing he hadn’t taken offense, you sheepishly returned his smile, “I guess so. I don’t think I’ll get to keep being hypocritical about our ugly scarfs, though. I can’t seem to find mine, it’s been gone ever since that party.”

It was like a light bulb went on in Higuruma’s mind, and he cleared his throat before saying, “well, I may just prove you wrong. Follow me.”

Not fully understanding what he meant by that, you stood by him while he paid for his coffee, got it and walked outside. The cold winter breeze prickled your cheeks and your uncovered neck like hair-thin razor blades, and you followed Higuruma towards a car that wasn’t all that strange to you. Upon further inspection, you noticed that it was indeed his car, the old navy blue beat up thing you used as a shield for the wind during that night when you tried and failed at least half a dozen times to light a cigarette.

And then met him, and gave him a vodka scare.

And helped patting him dry with your-

“Here,” he called out, opening the door to the back seat. Sure enough, you saw that red, frizzly old thing tangled up in a ball.

“My scarf!” you reached inside and took it out, instantly throwing it around your neck. Higuruma noticed how you were genuinely pleased to have finally found it, and thought to himself that he’d most likely feel the same way if he ever lost and found his beat up, old shawl. 

It was just one of those things imbued with a sense of history and familiarity that only beat up, old tokens from days past had.

“Thank you,” you whispered, while sliding your fingers through the worn out cotton. “It was a gift. I might complain about it more often than not, but-”

“But it’s an important part of your life,” he replied, and you both glanced at each other while you nodded.

“Yes. Something like that. It’s my favorite curse to carry around while complaining about it, you know?” you mused, adjusting it around your neck and gratefully welcoming the warmth it brought around your neck. 

“I think I do,” he answered finally, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Let me repay you,” you offered. “Can I offer you a snack, or anything? Perhaps a smoke?”

“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer,” he replied, and you pulled your pack out of your coat. Giving it a few taps, a cigarette popped up, and you took it in your lips, pulling another one and handing it to him.

Against his better judgement, Higuruma was slightly disappointed, and for a second, felt like kicking himself over it.

Idiot, you can’t seriously be expecting her to light a cigarette for me every time she offers you a smoke. Actually, I shouldn’t expect that at all.

 Against his will, Higuruma felt his cheeks warming up, and he tried his best to dive his face into his shawl while politely took the cigarette off your hands. You didn’t notice his moves and offered him your lighter — the same yellow, disposable one he had given you days ago. He picked it up, lit his cigarette and returned it.

“I see you still have it,” Higuruma noted, smiling gently, and you acquiesced.

“It has been my faithful companion for these past few weeks. I’m just glad I haven’t lost it like I lost my scarf,” you said before chuckling.

Higuruma leaned over the guardrail with his elbows, finally relaxing after… God knows how long. Slowly, he seemed to be getting lost in thought, and you seized the opportunity to better look at his shawl.  It had a sunflower pattern that went in a straight line right in front of it.

Still looking around as he stewed in his silent contemplations, you noticed there was a bag laying on top of his passenger’s seat. Peeping through it, stood a single sunflower, and what seemed to be the top of a Kirin bottle.

A sunflower man, hm?

The thought amused you as the corners of your mouth perked up in a gleeful smile, but you were quickly pulled out from it.

“Do you work nearby?” he asked, while taking a drag from his cigarette. “This is far from campus.”

“No. I mean, not yet. I was just… chasing my dreams,” you remarked, puffing some smoke. “What about you, Professor?”

Higuruma chuckled softly.

“I was being haunted by mine.”

You must’ve looked puzzled, because he quickly amended, “I was just on my way to visit someone and took a break for some coffee, that’s all.”

“Oh, I see,” you replied, realizing you were probably getting in his way. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from your appointment. I-”

“It’s okay, there’s no one waiting for me. Or so I like to think.”

That comment left you with more questions than answers.

“Apologies. I don’t mean to keep you from going about the rest of your day too,” he bid behind a curtain of smoke, “and thank you for the cigarette. I really needed it.”

With your final puffs, you put your cigarette out and smiled at Higuruma.

“It’s okay, Professor. I should really get going, though. We are, indeed, far from campus and I’d like to get to my dorm before it’s dark.”

With a bow, you walked away, leaving Higuruma to his own devices. He sighed, alone with himself and his thoughts once again, turning his attention once more to the bag he had inside his car.

“Hiromi,” a familiar voice called out. Higuruma turned around, only to be met by Nanami, who had a indecipherable expression on his face.

Minutes before, Nanami decided to visit the nearby cafe and check if they had his favorite casse croûte that day. He wouldn’t mind getting a croissant, though.

 Upon stepping outside his building with dreams of pastries swirling around his overworked mind, he noticed you and Higuruma outside the cafe, and figured that was the perfect opportunity to approach you both and introduce you as the new intern for the criminal law department. It was just a matter of time before Higuruma accepted his offer, as Nanami thought, and you’d be both working together. However, before he could, Nanami noticed you and Higuruma were chatting, and not only that, but you approached Higuruma’s car and got something — apparently belonging to you — from his back seat. The ugliest red scarf Nanami had ever seen.

… What?

Nanami then remembered that you were a student on the very same university he tended to.

The same one in which Higuruma was a teacher too.

Why does Hiromi have things belonging to a student in the backseat of his car, of all places?  

Nanami was at a loss for words, and faltered for a few moments, wondering how he should ask Hiromi about this. That is, if he even should ask Hiromi about anything at all. Nanami decided to watch from afar, and something about the way Higuruma was carrying himself bothered Nanami.

He had only seen his best friend behaving like that in very specific scenarios, ones in which Hiromi definitely shouldn’t be interacting with a student of his.

After you left, Kento finally walked towards Hiromi, still uncertain if he should question his friend about the nature of your relationship with him. He could be imagining things.

But something was definitely disturbing him, he was sure of it. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“Kento, hi! Oh… I had forgotten, your firm is nearby, isn’t it?” Hiromi asked while looking around. “Sorry, I always seem to forget where it is. That explains why this cafe felt so familiar. Care for a smoke?”

“No.”

“You haven’t smoked with me in a long time,” Higuruma offered, pulling his own cigarette pack from his coat’s inner pocket. 

“I quit years ago,” Nanami reminded him, trying to put an end to this conversation detour.

“You still smoke on special occasions,” Higuruma offered, “eh, I wish I had your resolve.”

“You do, you just fail to direct it at things that will benefit you in the long run.”

“Just my little human shortcoming, I guess,” Higuruma finally replied, sparing Nanami a soft smile. He walked towards his car while unlocking it, “Let’s have something to eat, the coffee opened up my appetite. I just need to get more coins in case I end up going over the meter’s time limit, hold on.”

“Hiromi,” Nanami said once again, his tone graver than usual. That caught Higuruma’s attention.

“Hm, is everything okay?” Higuruma asked while leaning into his car.

Before Nanami could go on with his planned line of inquiry, he noticed what was over passenger’s seat. Especially the sunflower.

“Are you at it again?” Nanami asked, gesturing with his head towards it.

“Ah, you saw it…” Higuruma commented, as if he was a child being caught red handed while making a mess out of the house. “Well, yes. I’m trying to, and failing at it once again.”

“You know you don’t have to go, right?” Kento offered, while pulling some change from his pocket. “I have coins, we’ll be fine. Let me get you a snack, this cafe has the best casse croute around.”

“I do have to go, though,” Higuruma closed the door and stepped back onto the sidewalk. “I should, at least.”

Higuruma’s earlier energy seemed to wane ever so slightly, his shoulders falling while he slouched, unconsciously making himself smaller. 

“I don’t think I’ll manage to do it today, either,” he finally said, his eyes low on his feet, and his voice barely above a whisper.

Assessing the situation, it was clear that Higuruma was in no way in the right mindset to have that conversation regarding you, so Nanami put a mental note on it to ask about it at a later time. He stepped beside Hiromi and put a hand gently on his shoulder, sighing.

“Is it low tar?” Nanami questioned, clearing his throat to disguise his displeasure.

“Hm, what?”

“Your cigarette. Is it low tar?”

Higuruma huffed, a tiny smile forming on his lips as he said, “yes, yes it is.”

In a smooth motion, Higuruma pulled his pack back out of his coat and took two cigarettes out of it, handing one to Nanami along with a lighter. With the disposition of a man ready to face the electric chair, Kento pursed his lips around the cigarette, and lit it, only to be thrown in a coughing fit moments later.

“How the mighty do fall,” Higuruma noted with a discreet smirk on his lips, “you used to smoke more than me.”

“Shut up,” Nanami managed to churn out in between coughs, “this brand is awful.”

His friend chuckled while taking one long drag from his cigarette.

“Hey, Kento.”

“What?” Nanami considered tossing the cigarette as far as he could, but tried his best to survive it, even if just for Hiromi’s benefit.

“Is that offer still on the table? To…” Hiromi paused for a moment, clearing his throat, “hm, work in your firm?”

Managing to get his throat and lungs under control, Nanami glanced at Hiromi, knowing full well that good things came to those who wait.

Just like he had.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Hi, did you know I like to shamelessly plug people's work? No? So, yeah. I love doing that.

I got this STUNNING commission from @radish-breath and I have no shame to admit that I scrumpt a scream never screamt before when I got this 😭💜 I think you should go check out her work if you still haven't, lots of great sfw and nsfw pieces (all truly delectable 🤌) - Twitter | Patreon | Carrd.

Rad, once again (you already listened to me screeching like a banshee and ugly crying over it, lol), thank you very much for this amazing piece. It is beyond my wildest dreams alsdjasldkj

-

Tag list (updated):

@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @redlikerozez @killerplink

@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @cmdrfupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider 

@ohhheymessa @bigbaddulce @actuallysaiyan @s-witch-bitch @yeonjunarchives

@soft--cherry @quinnyundertow @traffi @shibataimu @shimadalluvia

[dunya99]

URGENT HELP🚨🚨🚨🍉🇵🇸

Hello,

How do you do ? I hop to be in a good condition.

This is my special campaign

We hope to help us by donating or sharing to others.

Every donation makes a different even if it a small.

As you know, the war began on October 7 and lasted ten months. During this period, we were unable to obtain food, drink, or treatment because we did not have money.

There is no source of income for the family at the present time, so we are unable to buy food, clean water, and medicine, especially after we are afflicted with the ongoing infectious diseases spread in the north like Hepatitis C disease.

Our house has been damaged a lot since the beginning of the war. We are from the north of Gaza and we are still in the north and have not displaced to the south. We displaced 10 times from place to another seeking to safety .

We hope for your help and support, even if only a little.🙏🙏

Vetted by Femme intifada on telegram.

Also, vetted by gazavetters on tumbler and my number is #60

My campaign was recently vetted by butterfly effect group on Instagram and my number is #964

This is the link if you would to read our story well 👇👇

https://gofund.me/4e896ac1

Thank you all

!!

[dunya99]

foreordainment

pairing — prince!gojo x reader

summary — the notorious prince has left the palace walls once again. on his adventures would he have never guessed a stunning woman would enter his life all thanks to the big mouth of a little boy.

wc: 2.4k

a/n: inspired by this drabble i made not so long ago. not accurately happening right after the drabble, this is mostly a fanfic with that same idea i had. enojoy!

the deserts night was no exception to the cold. all though in the day its heat petrifying, its nights cold rummages through your veins. satoru paid no mind to the nights chill, how could he? this is the only moment he found where he can carelessly wander the streets without his fathers knowledge.

satoru didn’t n understand why his father kept him away from the publics eyes, sooner or later hes going to be the next crowned king. how is he even supposed to know what the people want when he doesnt even know the people!

he sneaks his way through the palaces large garden and into his stable. grabbing his horse and something to cover his face, something that allows him to carelessly wonder the streets, choosing his fathers old green scarf.

strolling through the markets and towns, not leaving his horses back. all though night, the market never failed to die. the crowd was huge, people constantly pushing their way through and the loud noises of street advertising and donkeys only made the narrow street more agonising. he hopped off his horse, his hand held onto its rein, pushing it through the crowds of people, and children?

a group of children collected at the princes feet, their assumptions following he’s a warrior — danced around him with questions and awe.

“are you a warrior?”

“did you leave the battle field?”

“how many bad guys have you slain?”

he chuckled. all though one particular boy caught his eye. his hair was blond but if you looked close enough it’s undertone of pink was strong. his smile was so big and bright he swore heat was radiating off it. he was the boy jumping around asking him most of the questions. all though satoru didn’t answer, his excitement only continued to bubble, as if warriors are so cool they don’t need to talk. the boy rambled on and on about how he wants to be a warrior himself. saving the world the same way the king has and to fight alongside royals.

his excitement was so contagious that both him and satoru didn’t catch you shouting at the top of your lungs for that silly little boy to come back. satoru was so deep in his paradise of pride but the moment he saw you — his mind debated if he’s actually in heaven, meeting his hoor al ayn.

“yuji!” you trap the little boy in your arms, lifting him up. you look up at satoru and nod your head but yuji saw no end, continuing his ramble. “yuji say bye to the man before we leave.”

“noooooo i dont wannaaa!!!” you tsk while rolling your eyes, turning around and propping yuji on the floor.

“say bye to the man or else i’ll leave you here and you live with this man who sleeps in the sand and eats okra stew for breakfast lunch and dinner!” yuji instantly pokes out his tongue in disgust. quickly, you look up to the man slightly shrugging. “no offence.” satoru nods in acknowledgment. you’ll never know that satoru is smiling ear to ear hearing your light hearted and pure interaction with the boy.

yuji obliges, waving and saying his goodbyes and when satoru waves back, you scoop him into his arms and walk off. the urges to break his mute persona were strong, insanely strong. he wanted to call out for you, ask about where you’re from and what’s your name, but something tells him not to, his limbs remaining stiff.

the rest of his night was left finding a spot for him and his horse and watch the city’s chaos. a prayer repeated in his brain that you will return.

and it seems it was heard

after a long, tedious days training and listening to his fathers lectures about religion and the most forgiving, he'd sneak out of his palace chambers and sat at that same spot everyday. every star that twinkled in the sky encouraging his actions. one day though, while his eyes grew heavier and his head leaned comfortably on the stone wall next him, the shaking on his knee woke him right up.

what is the cause of his knee being shaken so rigidly? only to find out it was little boy he saw at the market the other day, his words and questions founding no end.

satoru only smiled as the pink haired boy practically jumped and twirled around him. he couldn’t help but notice you; standing not so far away, watching.

though no words exchanged between the two of you he respected that. he respected you being kept away from a man you know not much of, yet allowing the little boy to spread his infectious joy.

yuji rambled to satoru about all kinds of things — what he ate for breakfast, his adventures with his friends which consisted of him trying to ride a goat only to inevitably fall face first on the ground, and you. it didn’t take long for this big mouth to tell the man your his sister, and that you’re only allowed in the markets with a mahram, and in this case, a 5 year old boy.

before yuji spills what you do here in the markets, you sneak from behind and cover his mouth with your hand, offering satoru a worried smile. “alright yuji we should head home, no need to bore this man. he probably already has soooo much to do.” you should of had a better approach at that because yuji kindly welcomed you with him slobbering his tongue all over the palm of your hand, saliva dripping down.

“ewww!!! yuji!!!” you quickly jump back, wiping his spit on his clothes. satoru couldn’t help but laugh, your interactions always shocking him with how wholesome they are. yuji doesn’t pay any mind to your obvious disgust and obnoxiously waves his hand.

“bye byeee mr warrior.” satoru gives a little wave and the nod to his head, as if he’s baldwin iv. he watches you grab the boy back into your arms, scolding him for his immature behaviour and how you’ll use your fathers belt to hit him later tonight. the last thing he heard from the distance was a squeal for mercy.

never would he have expected this to be a daily occurrence.

a little boy shaking his leg the moment he sees him and being exposed to his radioactive energy. satoru started doing hand signals too, not being afraid of letting out a laugh here and there. when yuji would complain about you force feeding him beans satoru would look up to you, putting his hands into a heart shape and breaking. you’d roll your eyes initially only to later giggle. oh did those giggles temper with the princes heart.

everything about you tempered with his heart. your lovable sweet smile, your voice and your care. your care and love for yuji never went unnoticed. he noticed it ever since yuji first ran into him. you where worried about your brother running around and talking to a random man with a sword on his hip. yet now, yuji is attached to his hip. quite literally.

maybe for one day you could trust the strong man to keep an eye on your little brother. the market sang your name to come in and explore, how can you reject its captivating tunes? yet when you came back with bags and bags of scarfs, books, and painting supplies, you see yuji resting his head on the warriors lap, dozed off to sleep. the warrior payed no mind, a book in his hand that he only constantly turned the pages too, not grasping its context.

you quietly walk behind him, main for yuji but you couldn’t help but notice the (assumed) warrior next to him. all though you couldn’t see the man’s face you can tell his eyes drifted inaccurately on the page.

“excuse me, do you need help with that?” he looks over his shoulder to you. he slightly nods and raises it up for you to take. you put down your many heavy bags and sit beside him, flipping to the start of the book. you couldnt help it. normally if your father or mother saw you, you’d be cursed for even breathing the same air as a man you don’t know. you swear they’re over dramatic, using words like “purity” to further control you.

you clear your throat and begin reading. if there was one thing your parents did give you, it was the ability to read and recite. and you used it. it was rare for a woman to even know how read, and yet here you are reading to a man. perhaps he was breaded as a weapon, no time wasted on teaching him how to absorb the worlds arts and holy words.

when you finally finished, his eyes were stuck on you, or what you assume. something about his gaze hinted awe. perhaps he really likes this book. “i uh, i should really be heading back home now.” you give him a smile, handing his book back and standing to grab your lot of bags. when you turned back you see yuji, curled up and carried in the (alleged) warriors arms.

“it’s okay, you can just wake him up.” he shakes his head.

“i’ll help you. let the boy sleep.” you swear that’s the first time you heard him speak. it was nice, actually. something about hearing him speak made him seem more human than a moving mannequin.

“it’s okay, really. i appreciate your request.”

“i insist. i cannot continue to allow you to walk home alone in the dark night.” he was right. the markets that were once bustling where dull, the town fallen into slumber. i mean, once on your way home you almost got kidnapped!

“okay, but let me hold yuji.” he nods. you place the bags on the floor and he carefully transfers the sleeping boy into your arms.

you lead the way down to your house, walking past the died down markets and quiet towns all the way to the not so far farm land. the prudent smell of fertiliser made satoru scrunch his nose. a high contrast from the musk scent prominent within the palace walls.

finally arriving home you slowly creek open the door and turn back to satoru, putting your fingers on your lips and signalling him to be quiet. you both tiptoed your away inside, taking off your shoes in the most quiet way possible before walking on your fathers favourite red persian carpets.

you kept your steps light and he only watched, wanting to replicate your feather like steps. yet when you turned around cueing him to walk, his steps only caused the wooden floor to loudly creek. your thankful the snores of your father aren’t disrupted.

you creak open yujis door and gently place him on his bed, tucking the little boy into his covers. you see satoru, standing and not knowing what to do with the heavy bags stripped on his arms. you gestured to him to quietly place them on the floor. oh lord, ensure my father rather wakes up to an animals call, not the warriors attire.

“i want to sh—” you cut him off, placing your hands on his chest the moment you hear your fathers loud snoring stop to the sound of a loud cry of a goat. the fumbling and foot steps of your father mix with the loud beating of your heart. your heart so fast you can feel your pulse down to your fingertips. it’s so fast—wait is that him?

if only you could see the face covered by that green scarf. his cheeks so red it’s easily distinguished from his vibrant features. when you realised what you’ve done you quickly moved your hands away, a pretty pink rose on your face.

the moment the door closes you jump to apologising. “i’m so sorry, trust me i acted before thinking.” he only smirked, not like you can see it, especially since yujis room is so dark.

“shhh its okay, calm down.” he placed both hands on his shoulder, his additional comfort warming your heart. it felt… nice. and satoru could tell, his actions giving comfort only readies his heart to jump up all the way to the moon and split it in half again.

“now, what i was trying to tell you was that—”

the door creaked open again and you clover his mouth immediately. you swear in that moment you saw two angle in front of you. you refuse to move until the wood creaks come to an end. maybe it was your fight or flight — but when it all came to an end you realised you didn’t just cover his face from his scarf, but under instead.

you could feel small stubbles of a beard and his lips both mooshed against your hand. you quickly moved your hand away, cursing yourself. he must think your some sort of creep now! ugh! your self criticism was cut short the moment he moved his hands away and softly chuckled. “i should probably be heading out.”

“right. do you know the way? i can lead you back to the towns.” his smile deepened as he nods

“yes please.”

maybe this is an opportunity. the opportunity to finally show what he wanted to show for so long. when you both finally get out of the house as quiet as you can, you lead the way to the markets.

“by the way i’m so sorry i disturbed you so many times.”

“don’t be.” he assured, leaving your heart somewhat at ease. you shared a few moments of silence until the question that’s been bugging the back of your mind finally bubbles its way to the top.

“weird question but… what do you look like under the scarf?” he sort of stopped in his tracks, looking at you and you only turn back. you didn’t know if shock or amusement was presented on his face.

“want to see for yourself?” definitely amusement.

you swallow, taking a step towards him and reaching up to his green scarf, slowly lifting. wow has your breath been taken away. his eyes where like crystals, so blue they matched the fairuz rock on this ring. his structured face was so perfectly accented by a faint white bread on his face and his eagle nose so beautifully put together. you questioned yourself if another prophet has been brought down by the most mighty himself.

he smiled as your eyes dazzled all over his face, taking him in. he turned away, a faint colour of pink oh his cheeks. then it clicked.

“wait are you… are you the prince?” he turned back almost immediately, his crooked smirk only deepening. he took a few steps back.

“maybe.” he lowered his scarf once again, concealing the light underneath and walked off. you only stood there, watching him disappearing into distance, shocked.

[dunya99]

𝐒𝐚𝐛𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

❀ . . . . . . . . ❀

❀ . . . . . . . . ❀

welcome to my corner of the internet. i’m 19 years old and have desires and dreams awaiting to be achieved. don’t be scared to stop by and say hi

❀ . . . . . . . . ❀

⚘ inbox always open ⚘

[dunya99]

Higuruma was a nice colleague. Not the “meaningless compliments” or “small talk about the weather to fill the silence” nice, but he’d always let you steal his smokes whenever you both found yourselves outside on a break.

It started on happenstance, on one fateful day that you forgot to pack your cigs into your bag before you left the house. You asked for a smoke, he gave you a death on a stick — as you’d both call it — and that was the day you both had your first actual conversation. Higuruma was usually a guy to keep to himself, sitting silently by his own desk and only getting himself up to go on these occasional breaks.

You learned that most of his diet consisted of a variety of instant noodles and terrible soda. That he’d prefer to arrive early in order to avoid the small talk sessions with the firm’s gossipy secretaries. That he’d usually get home after his work days to a mostly empty house that he never bothered to furnish beyond a couch, a bed, a desk and some bookshelves.

After a while, you stopped buying cigarettes completely, and would — albeit not proudly — keep a watchful eye to see whenever he was going out for his smoke break, just so you could count a minute before stepping out to meet him. He never found that — how you’d always coincidentally go out to smoke at the same time as he did — to be suspicious, or if he did, Higuruma never asked about it.

And then, after a while, his shoulders grew looser, his smiles were more deliberate and he’d even crack a few jokes here and there — terrible ones, ones you had no idea why you were laughing at.

On one particularly cold night, you found him smoking by himself, as he usually was, completely bundled up. The cold weather would get to him most days, you noticed, and picked his cigarette from his mouth to take a drag.

“You should buy your own cigarettes,” he remarked with no chide.

“Not when I can keep smoking yours,” you spiritedly replied while handing it back to him. “Gotta save some money.”

“By smoking my whole pack?”

“Absolutely.”

Higuruma smiled gently towards you before leaning over the guardrail with both of his elbows.

“Well, I might need to get a promotion then. To fund both of our addictions.”

Even when he complained, it wasn’t more than a half hearted grievance, and he surely never stopped you from picking his smokes directly from his mouth. Not when you did it so casually, inspiring the intimacy he’d like to share with you.

Someday, perhaps. And over more than just some cigarettes.

[dunya99]

~The Hidden Reflection of the Darkness Within~

A Picture of Dorian Gray- inspired Nanami x Afab!Reader Fic

"See?This is the condition of my soul...I turned into a monster. I corrupted my soul in the foolish attempt to hide the scars on my body.. How could you love me now? "

"You don't have to hide anymore, Nanami, not from me... Destroy it. Stop letting this portrait weigh down on you..."

Coming soon...

[dunya99]

Hiiiiiiii new mootie!! 💕 Nice to meet you!!! Bumped into your blog by chance and instantly became mesmerized by the poetic imagery you use in your writing 😍

hi pookie!! nice to meet you too!! and thank you so much! i’m so happy and excited to have you as my mootie

[dunya99]

it is no secret when a king breeds not only a first born son, but a first born son described as the blue eyed prince in his tribe. while the title of khalifa is fought over, the people distract themselves into a boy, the blue eyed prince.

though his name unusual to many, exotic some describe, satoru was a fan favourite prince. every daughter and sister bowed to the one above hoping to be the one of many by his side.

yet since the days ready of marriage, he’s hidden away. lock doors and the boy that was described to be for the sorest of eyes is hidden from the public. whines and moans heard from the town yet it should not concern you. a prince like him marries many under wealth, why should common girls like you worry?

yet that day you accompanied your brothers chaotic street shopping adventure, his lavish bedroom door slowly opens, a famous prince now undercover. he slips his way down and swings on the palace vines to reach the common town and you unknowingly stand next to him under a palm tree.

escaping from the blazing heat you stand next to a man or a boy? you couldn’t determine, his face covered with a green scarf, perhaps a warrior. yet you’ll never know the boy next to you is the next heir, and you’ll never know how astonishing the boy was seeing you. every rational thought in his brain had to fight the urges to scream and tell those around that the other 50% of the worlds beauty has been found, founded on your face. yet he keeps quiet, using your beauty as a shelter and a distraction from the sky’s vicious crown. you’ll never know that the roles has switched with you and satoru. that same blue eye prince that used to fascinate you, is now in awe of you.

[dunya99]

you hate this weather. its stuffy, humid. you toss and turn, unable to sleep. the mixed feeling of the heat and the stickiness overwhelms you. you couldn’t sleep like this, muddy heat engulfing you. especially when you’re the type to who has to snuggle onto something in order to have a genuine good nights sleep.

you rose up, rubbing your eyes as your feet dangled off your bed. you sat there for a bit, staring at your feet and your bedroom floor that was messily decorated with clothes. quickly, your moments of silence was disrupted by a loud thud coming from the inside of your apartment. the thud shaking you fully awake. you stayed sat for a bit, processing and wondering what might of happened only to nail it down to an intruder. you got to your feet, kneeling under you bed to grab that metal bat you have stored for safety measures just like these.

you poked your head out your bedroom door on the lookout. scanning the area around you before sliding out your door as quietly as you could. once you made your way to your living room something wet lingers on your feet. the moonlight that casted through your large apartment windows confirming your worst nightmare, it was blood. before panic took you into insanity you look up only to notice a somewhat familiar figure sprawled out on your floor.

a toned male body with long limbs and hair, you only know one man like that. your ex boyfriend: suguru geto

thoughts and questions overwhelmed your brain as you stood there, staring at his body limp on your floor and making a mess out of his own blood. he was wearing a black shirt and his usual black baggy tracksuit, both clothing drenched in blood.

this is not the man you last remember seeing. the last time you saw your ex was when he told you about his dream. a dream of a world of only sorcerers. when he first told you his plan you couldn’t help but crack a smile, assuming what he just said was some sort of sick joke. but he wasn’t joking. his face was still, his eyes scanning the muscles on your face as you slowly realised this isn’t some funny silly joke. it’s wasn’t like him either way to joke. to be honest, you hate yourself for not seeing the signs before, it was so clear. the man you once love twisted into this new man. a stranger. even though that was years ago, it’s no surprise that a figure you recognise so much, looks somewhat morphed. morphed into something corrupted.

you walked up to him, still holding onto your metal bat, ready to possibly strike at any given moment. you finally have a clearer look of his now matured face. his face structured and chiseled with his own unique dark touches. blood was dried up on his forehead, that seemingly coming from his head. his prefect silky hair you used to happily clean for him now clumped up with scabs of blood. you slightly kick his body, wanting to wake him up yet still cautions, the metal bat still in its position. his eyes open and you wish they didn’t. you wish he somehow got his eyes gouged out so you could forget the way they swirled in the dark, wishing you could forget how the violet hues left your heart in a trance.

you stayed firm all though, not allowing that smile you used to kill to see get to you. he’s a dangerous man, you remind yourself, you need to report this to the higher ups. come on, fight him, do something! yet you can’t, your body frozen. he watches the way you react to him, he studies your face. the confusion and distraught making his smile depend. that prick.

‘hey.’ your brows knitted together, his voice broke when he spoke. your glad it did, not being able to hear his full on voice because if you did you might of smashed his head with the bat. your grip tightened on your bat which immediately caught his eye, making that stupid smirk you always use to love deepen.

“why are you here?’ you raise the bat higher, as if threatening him to answer. a chuckle left his mouth, suffocating your brain further before he spoke. ‘what happened to hello, princess? i’m hope you don’t welcome all your guests with a bat in their face.’

‘you’re not a guest. tell me why your here before i smash your head.’ he jokingly rolled his eyes, his brain cooking up a reply that you already know it’s something to purposely piss the hell out of you.

‘i just wanna know how you’re doing sweetie. is catching up with an old friend illegal all the sudden?’ you don’t budge, not giving him the satisfaction of pissing you off. he finally speaks up again after a moment of shared silence.

‘so i uh.. got into a little… fight. look i know you probably hate me an everything but is it too much to ask if you could help me? like back then when you used to always heal me. forget about all this stupid sorcery politics… i missed you.’

you cannot believe the nerve this guy has. sneaking into your apartment, getting your floor and carpet soaked by his own blood, trying to to charm his way back to you and then ask for a free healing? it sounds like he wants his last kiss to be your bat. he’s lying, you know he’s lying. he’s only here to use you he doesn’t care about you. war erupts in your brain, his words entering your ears with swords, slicing any rational thought you have, but not all.

‘no you don’t. suguru don’t do this to me. your lying to me aren’t you? tell me the truth.’

his violet eyes examine your face, an expression you couldn’t read on his face as he looks down, lifting his shirt to expose a large wound scraped across his stomach and chest. it was huge, the blood still not dried, only bubbling and gushing out. you lower your bat, squatting beside his body as you watched the cursed energy swirl and twist his insides.

‘look i know you don’t trust me but… can you just help me? you’re the only person i know who can help me. just… maybe make it stop… bubbling?’

you look at his face, that smirk and cocky expression switched to now worried, scared even, his eyes bulging out like a loss puppy. you don’t know when the last time you saw him like this or if you ever have seen him like this. to be honest, it scares you. he props himself to his elbows and you put your hand on his chest, pushing him back to remain lying down.

‘just this once.’

——————————————————————————

a/n: every time i come here and write it’s when im suffering the consequences of going overboard on leg day

[dunya99]

rip sukuna you would of loved those muslim brothers podcast where they basically talk down on women

[dunya99]

rip gojo, you would of loved knafeh b kaak

[dunya99]

Satorus mad something other than him took your ability to walk, and that other thing is the gym.

recently, silly you forgot to stretch and warm up your body for leg day, and now you are suffering the consequences of your actions. sure when you finished the workout that day your legs were shaking but that means it worked, right?

gosh you wish that was true. each time your leg even moved an inch they shivered in pain, as if your muscles were about to rip out your thigh and run away across a rainbow or two.

and oh boy did your husband — satoru — take the opportunity to tease you.

he’d remind you that this is ‘the consequences of not going with him’ and how your all the sudden ‘too good to stretch’ while giggling at how annoyed you’re getting. this all happened right in the morning too, when the pain was still fresh, and his stupid poking and teasing made your life a living hell. you would of kicked him by now if you weren’t in so much pain.

but when he finally stops, he takes the opportunity to pamper you, carrying you out of bed (bridal style) and sitting you down on any surface he can around the house. he’d sit you on the kitchen bench, your feet dangling as he prepares you something. if hes feeling extra nice he’d prepare you a warm bath with even a massage, but you both know where that will go. soon your bridal privileges are taken away, don’t worry hes still carry you, (any excuse to show off his muscles to a hottie like you, he’d take) but instead he flings you across his shoulder like a rag doll. with love, of course. shown by either a kiss of a cheeky little slap on the ass.

________________________________________________

a/n: am i writing this because this is what im currently going through? yes…

[dunya99]

i’d like to sit down and have an in depth conversation with suguru geto, i feel like we’d agree on a lot of things.

[dunya99]

Nanami is the type of dad to absolutely adore his baby girl.

he’d let her little hand take him to her “secret fort” that she built, trying to enter without making everything collapse since it’s obvious not built for his size.

he’d let her steal your make up when your not home and practice on him, no matter how berserk it looks he’d always compliment how much of a great job she’s done, pasting a sweet kiss on her cheek that leaves a red mark from the lipstick he’s wearing. (don’t worry he’ll buy you everything back after, maybe even more)

when you’d go out to the park and you accidentally drift to sleep on his shoulder he’d signal to your daughter to quickly grab flowers while he searches up how to make a flower crown and his phone. oh, and the sweet expression of shock on your face warms his heart, as if he’s fulfilled his purpose and is ready to die, but of course he won’t let himself die, he’d miss you and his daughters warmth even if death is nothingness, his soul would still yearn.

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a/n: sometimes i’m scared ill get married and it’ll be nothing like how i write it to be 🥲

[dunya99]

sometimes the words ‘i love you’ don’t cut it out when it comes to replicating the emotion that your husband!satoru feels for you. the words ‘i love you’ don’t show his need for doing anything in the world to please you, no matter it’s difficulty. i love you doesn’t serve justice to the way he’d row his way to where the pacific and Atlantic meet and mix the oceans together, ignoring the differences in densities, or would split the moon in half with a click of a finger because a man can do anything the moment he witnesses your sugar sweet smile.

husband!satoru sometimes feels utterly disappointed when you refuse to let him spoil you, refuse to let him build a rocket out of his love and fly you both to the same moon that he talks to every night about you to the point that the moon would call your name, but don’t be surprised, just satorus antics.

can you blame the man for being obsessed with you though? you’re the only person who’s ever seen him for him. your the only person that teases him back, your smart ass reply’s take a lot of his will power to stop him from tossing you onto his shoulder and taking you straight to the bedroom.

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