To lose her sensei and father within just months of each other, to fight the former during the war itself... Sakura couldn’t begin to imagine what her friend was going through. Just months after the war, it had been decided that the gift-giving festival, Rinne Matsuri, would return to its traditional roots of paying homage to the dead instead of simply focusing on the cheerier aspects. Given how much the war had taken out of the village... it had been warranted. Having accompanied the Yamanaka to the Konoha Cemetery, with bouquets they’d arranged at the flower shop had they cleaned and then adorned both graves with the creations.

The older girl watched on as the blonde prayed over her father’s grave, heart heavy for her. Carefully did she enter Ino’s periphery and touch her shoulder, solemn but sincere.

                       NEW YEAR’S KISS MEME !!    @homefrontt 

she’s  always  been  bold.  bold  and  brash.  a  loudmouth  who  tends  to  speak  before  her  brain  allows  her  to  think.  her  emotions  are  worn  on  her  sleeve  and  her  intentions  never  masked,  always  on  plain  sight  for  everyone  to  see.  she  is  ...  a  lot.  a  handful,  even.  but  that’s  just  her  charm,  taichi  thinks.  it’d  be  weird  if  she  were  to  be  any  other  way  and  he’s  glad  to  see  she  hasn’t  changed  the  slightest  since  elementary  school.  except  he  hasn’t,  either.  he’s  still  a  coward,  a  liar.  pathetic  to  the  core.  he  thinks  he  is,  at  least.

chihaya  is  everything  taichi  is  not  and  it  shows  when  he  tries  to  ignore  three  magical  words,  eight  magical  letters.  her  voice  is  muffled  by  exploding  fireworks  above  them,  dotting  the  sky  in  the  prettiest  colors  and  most  magnificent  of  shapes.  and  a  part  of  him  thinks  he  may  have  just  experienced  some  sort  of  hallucination,  mere  wishful  thinking  --  nothing  more.  because  having  chihaya  proclaiming  her  love  for  him?  might  have  just  been  the  only  thing  he’d  ever  be  wishing  for.

he  blinks,  once,  twice,  eventually  dares  to  avert  his  attention  from  bright  explosive  pyrotechnics  to  the  girl  beside  him  when  he  notices  her  gaze  hasn’t  left  his  face.  it’s  a  split  second  in  which  his  eyes  meet  her  own,  in  which  he  realizes  it  is  not  a  dream.  he  knows  this  pout.  heart  starts  to  hammer  against  a  ribcage  that  suddenly  doesn’t  feel  sturdy  enough  to  hold  the  increasing  heartbeat  in  place.  and  it’s  in  this  moment  that  his  instinct  kicks  in,  that  his  cowardice  slips  from  him  once  more.  

           he’s  long  used  to  it:    the  scent  of  grease  and  cheese  dominating  his  room  whenever  he  returns  from  classes  he  very  unwillingly  has  to  visit  in  order  to  maintain  his  masterfully  crafted  disguise.    a  task  he’s  deemed  to  be  easier  than  it  actually  is.    but  lelouch  has  never  shied  away  from  a  challenge,    much  less  from  a  plan  he’s  already  set  in  stone,    something  he’s  decided  on.    hues  of  purple  land  upon  the  green - haired  woman  he’s  housing  and  hiding  in  here,    school  bag  tossed  aside  carelessly.

@homefrontt​​​ said:  [ roast ] / airi and her bff atsumu  (non-verbal starters) (acc.)

“Just wait, I’m tellin’ ya I got this.” Frustration boils under the varnish of his words, heavily edged and sharpened by a familiar accent - everyone always tells him how much worse it gets whenever he loses his temper, which, to be fair, happens a little too often to everybody’s liking. And not only for linguistic reasons. Sat by the fireplace in the twins’ grandmother’s home, Atsumu glares at the fire, all too conscious of Airi’s gaz analising each and every one of his moves, taking note of every detail to better make fun of him when the timing would be right. Because that’s the kind of girl she is - just like her brother, too. The apple never falls far from the tree, huh. 

The frown between his eyes deepens, jaw tensed and eyes drilling into the fuckin’ s’mores that just won’t cook properly -- c’mon, how many times has he done this with ‘Samu?? Sure - when his brother is around, the younger Miya twin, the one who actually knows how to cook, is the one in charge, while Atsumu sits back and helps by way of ‘encouragements’ (namely “hurry up, I’m starvin!’” and “how long does it even take?”, and other variations). Still. He’s seen it be done before!! He’s doing it exactly the way Osamu usually does it!! 

sentence meme ( accepting )

          “Oi,  oi  Utahime!  You keep making that face and it’s going to get stuck like that forever!  You wouldn’t want that,  would you?”  Gojo mimics her expression with far more dramatics,  as if he’s tasted something bitter.  Though only the lower half of his face is visible she’s sure to get the sentiment of his theatrics.

          He shifts a moment later into a straighter posture,  long legs bent outward and at the knee obnoxiously where he sits on the lounge chair opposite her.  Of course she often treated him like a pest,  rightful so as he pestered her often,  there were certainly serious moments in between.  He wonders if that’s what this is supposed to be or if he’s expected to continue to play the jester to her court...  he probably would either way.

          “Then it really would be the  same shit every year,  eh?”  He adds,  reaching for his cup of sugar tea on the table beside him.  It’s cooled considerably but he doesn’t mind,  lifting it to his mouth to take a purposefully loud drink.  Anything to get a rise out of her really.