This Is The Best Idea In The History Of Film.

We need etsy to get bought by someone who will run it like the navy i need to only see small businesses in eastern europe weaving baskets by hand and anime yaoi keychains with original fanart

need someone to draw kdj's domain expansion if he was in jjk so bad. like these are the moments that make me mad i stopped drawing in middle school

kento nanami // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

4th avenue viewing

strangers on a train

less than zero

ups and downs

play

nights in tokyo

selfish

pride is the devil

i need some wine and you, you need to be nicer

lovefoolish

banana bread with nanami kento

bride-to-be

chaos theory

simple pleasures

a trip to the tailor's

ave maria.

convenience (store) marriage

interrupted

heaven (is a place on earth with you)

tender loving care

a bento for kento

you've got a fetish for my love

Fic Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Female Reader

Genre: Fluffy Smutty Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy/Sort of Enemies to Lovers AU

CW: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Baby Daddy Nanami Kento, Unplanned Pregnancy, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, MINORS DNI

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

Summary: 

You probably shouldn’t have slapped him.

But you didn’t care. He deserved it after days of dismissive remarks and hard glares to everything you worked so hard for.

“I’m pregnant. I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. The fact that you’re the father is more than enough to keep me away from you.”

or: Despite your differences and frustrations with one another, you share a drunk but passionate night tangled in the sheets. But now, five weeks later, you and Nanami Kento have no choice but to navigate a rocky relationship while also embracing the new responsibilities of parenthood that lay ahead.

Author’s Notes: This is my very first fic and a WIP. I have two more chapters left. This entire process has been a journey and there will always be things that I can improve on. But for now, please enjoy. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I love writing it! <3

~Those Moments In Between - moments that take place during and after It Had To Be You.~

Chapter Summaries:

Thank you all for coming on this journey with me. Feel free to leave a comment to let me know your thoughts. Or send me a message if you want! Love you all <3

Chapter 1: Your life comes to a startling halt when you realize the abrasive and dismissive man you shared a passionate but drunken night with is now the father of your child.

Chapter 2: That first day when you meet him, you’re bright eyed and ready to work alongside him, filled with so many ideas that will benefit the company. Him, Nanami Kento, a highly esteemed director that always made your stomach flip in desire. But it turns out, he’s not what you thought. Flashback

Chapter 3: When it comes to work, Nanami likes to follow a specific code for people like you. And he would like to think it’s working so far. But one too many drinks and things change. Flashback

Chapter 4: When you think you’re a step ahead to keep Nanami out of your way, your world comes crashing down and makes it harder for you to decide to break the news.

Chapter 5: You want nothing to do with him. Nanami wants to make the right decision. 

Chapter 6: You catch subtle glimpses of another side of Nanami. You both come together to meet the life you have created together. A traumatic part of your life makes itself known. 

Chapter 7: Pregnancy hormones get the best of you. You are given a big opportunity in your company. But it’s not what it seems.

Chapter 8: You deal with the fallout. An unexpected visitor puts your life in jeopardy. Nanami tries to pick up the pieces. 

Chapter 9: You make a life change and show a side of yourself that you never wanted to entertain. Nanami asks you to dinner. 

Chapter 10: You catch a glimpse of the growing life within. A home cooked meal and a searing kiss.

Chapter 11: Nanami gifts you with something that sets a new course in your life. When confessions are finally laid on the table, you both give in.

Chapter 12: A vulnerable moment with each other. A baby shower. An accident that throws Nanami’s life in disarray.

Chapter 13: You and Nanami navigate through grief.

Chapter 14: A birthday, a confession, and a new addition.

Chapter 15: You and Nanami navigate through the first months of parenthood. Nanami gives you an amazing birthday gift. A surprising encounter with someone from Nanami’s past makes you unsure of yourself.

Chapter 16:  The last person you ever wanted to see pries into your life. Nanami makes a life changing decision. Your hard work finally pays off.

Chapter 17: You work hard to bring life to something dear to Nanami.

Chapter 18: You help Nanami on the anniversary of Yu's death. Nanami finally works up his courage during a warm day of Sakura season.

Chapter 19 (Epilogue): Things finally come together.

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

mirror sex with nanami, kitchen sex with nanami, bathroom sex with nanami, car sex with nanami, hotel sex with nanami, hot tub sex with nanami, sex in the office with nanami, sex on a boat with nanami

missionary on the bed with nanami, bent over the kitchen counter in doggy with nanami, on top of the couch riding nanami, under the table blowing nanami, 69-ing sideways with nanami

sitting on nanami's face, getting fucked by nanami's fingers, vibrator against your clit in nanami's grip, getting your clit licked by nanami's tongue, wrapping your legs around nanami's waist, getting impaled by nanami's cock

every "fights with ___ x reader" fic starts so srs and vague and i get a little scared to find out what they're fighting ab and it's always something like this 😭

thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.

he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.

it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.

“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”

“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.

arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.

you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.

“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”

“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”

it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”

satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”

“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.

the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.

“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.

“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.

“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.

“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”

satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”

“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”

silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.

“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”

you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”

“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”

you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.

“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”

satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.

“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”

“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”

“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”

“it’s a game!”

you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.

“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”

“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”

“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.

“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.

satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”

“love you, dummy.”

“love you too, baby.”

“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.

“yes, chef!”

“I know I’ve told this story before, but my abusive ex refused to let me take birth control. I was on the pill until he found them in my purse. I went to the Student Health Center—they were completely unhelpful, choosing to lecture me about the importance of safe sex (recommending condoms) instead of actually listening to my problem. Then I went to Planned Parenthood. The Nurse Practitioner took one look at my fading bruises and stopped the exam. She called in the doctor. The doctor came in and simply asked me: “Are you ready to leave him?” When I denied that I was being abused, she didn’t argue with me. She just asked me what I needed. I said I need a birth control method that my boyfriend couldn’t detect. She recommended a few options and we decided on Depo. When I told her that my boyfriend read my emails and listened to my phone messages and was known to follow me, she suggested to do the Depo injections at off hours when the clinic was normally closed. She made a note in my chart and instructed the front desk never to leave messages for me—instead, she programmed her personal cell phone number into my phone under the name “Nora”. She told me she would call me to schedule my appointments; she wouldn’t leave a message, but I should call her back when I was able to. And that was it. No judgment. No lecture. She walked me to the door and told me to call her day or night if I needed anything. That she lived 5 blocks from campus and would come get me. That I wasn’t alone. That she just wanted me to be safe. I never called her to come to my rescue. But I have no doubt that she would have come if I had called. She kept me on Depo for a year, giving me those monthly injections in secret, helping me prevent a desperately unwanted pregnancy. I cannot thank Planned Parenthood enough for the work they do.”

—

Curious Georgiana (via grrrlstudies)

I know I’ve reblogged this before, but it bears re-reblogging (?).  This is how you respond to abuse, this is how you give people control over their bodies/uteruses, this is how you act as a generally non-judgmental and compassionate person.  I love this story so fucking much.

(via coffeewithants)

Maybe this is the wrong platform to pose this question given the average tumblr user but

Is it just me or did our generation (those of is who are currently 20-30 ish) just not get the opportunity to be young in the 'standard' sense?

Like, everyone I talk to who's over 40 has all their wild stories about their teens and 20s, being young and dumb, and then I talk to my friends and coworkers and classmates, and we just... dont.

𝗛𝗢𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗠𝗘 *+:｡.｡

summary. jjk men falling for single moms. | wc. 2k+

cw/ tw. fem!reader, parenthood, oc, domestic fluff, mild amount of angst, friends to lovers, co-parenting, pining, slight suggestiveness with nanami's, pet names (ex. dove, sweetheart)

featuring. gojo, yuuji, sukuna, nanami

an. I'm really telling on myself rn, but I've been binging ghibli movies so I'm feeling soft, okay? also, this is a minstrel of what this fic used to be, but I rewrote it and it's basically a whole new thing and I never thought I'd put the words 'fluff' and 'sukuna' in the same post lmao, comments and reblogs are appreciated ༉‧₊˚.

𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 ༊*·˚

Being a single mom has its ups and downs, especially when it comes to dating. You can easily recount the times you sat across from a date who looked like they ate something sour after the mention of your daughter, how they paused, spine going stiff—never keen on the type of baggage that comes in small packages.

So it’s only natural to expect the same with Gojo when you tell him on the first date in the back of a coffee shop, wincing internally with a tight grip around your cup. You wait for the awkward laugh, the promise to call you later, even though they never do. 

But then he surprises you.

He smiles—that same one that filled your belly with butterflies the first time you ran into him in the elevator at work—gaze unexpectedly soft, and answers, “What’s her name?”

You take a sip of your coffee to distract yourself from that fluttery feeling in your chest. “Mai.”

Your heartbeat doesn’t slow for hours after that date; you admit you hadn’t expected him to take it in full stride.

Almost two years later, sometimes you still can’t believe it—how he fits so effortlessly in your life, that he’s shown you time and time again that he has no problem treating your daughter like his own.

He calls her princess; treats her like one, too. One day, you walk into the living room to find Mai putting clips in Satoru's hair and unicorn stickers on his face, letting her ramble about her day at daycare (because the afternoon reading circle is apparently very eventful for a bunch of four-year-olds).

On the days that he’s off work, you have to keep the fridge stocked with food, or else they’ll eat nothing but sweets all day. And when he does cook, he'll have a chair pushed up to the counter for Mai to see and help—though your kitchen is often left a total mess afterward.

It’s after dinner, Mai tucked into bed, his arms tucked around your waist while you scrub a pot, a thumb tracing your abdomen—sweetheart, what if we had another?—and you let yourself think about it. Can’t help it.

This time you won’t be alone in a delivery room, Satoru’s large hands comfortingly wrapped around yours before holding his newborn for the first time, one with Satoru’s smile and maybe your eyes. Another set of small feet running down the hall for cuddles in the morning… 

You reach down and cup his hand, despite it being covered in sudsy dishwater, though he doesn’t seem to care.

“I think…I think I’d like that.”

𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗝𝗜 ༊*·˚

He’s always been your best friend: since the day you fell off the swingset when you were six and after you found out you were pregnant and never heard anything back from the father. 

It's possibly the best and worst thing that could have happened to you. 

The best because he’s there for you until the twins come screaming into the world; it’s no surprise they’re just as drawn to his sunny personality as everyone else. Yuuji becomes a shadow at your side in the weeks after, becoming somewhat of a quasi-parent even though you never asked him to, which is why it’s the worst.

Those easy smiles are slowly replaced by the feeling of your heart trembling in your chest whenever you catch him hastily tripping up the stairs to the nursery to wake the twins from their nap. Or when he takes the three of you to the park for a picnic and spends the entire time staring at one of the sleeping little boys on your chest as if they’re doing cartwheels.

You try not to think about it too much unless you want to risk losing Yuuji, to crumble whatever solid foundation your friendship sits on. Plus, why would he want to settle with a single mom anyway?

You’ve seen the girls he’s dated, and none of them walk out of the house wearing a sweater covered in baby food stains, pretty, willowy girls who put a little more effort into their appearance than you have in months. 

And the sadder, more obvious answer is that there’s no way he feels the same about you—sweet, whole-hearted Yuuji who’s friendly to strangers and always willing to help wherever he’s needed. 

You’re not the exception.

There’s some truth to that, which rapidly disintegrates as the months go on. You can no longer ignore how Yuuji lights up whenever someone accidentally mistakes him for the twin’s father or mention how cute your family is.

It’s easy to imagine until you’re so wrapped up in thoughts that make you bite back a smile—of coming home to Yuuji napping with the twins on the couch, quiet evenings snuggled up under soft blankets on the couch, kissing him when he leaves for work in the morning—that you nearly miss what he says to the sweet old man who’s been giving Yuuji unsolicited parenting advice, “Maybe she’ll actually say yes when I ask her to marry me someday.”

He’s not looking at you when he says it, but you see how his smile reaches his eyes (soft as if he’s inserted himself into the same future you thought of), and for a moment, you allow yourself to hope.

𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 ༊*·˚

He’s never been the type to want kids of his own, and yet he couldn’t turn a blind eye when you call him nearly two months since that night at his brother’s birthday party—hazily remembering you telling him you’re one of Yuuj’s friends before he took you back to his place—to tell him you’re pregnant.

“You don’t have to be there. I just thought you should know,” you say wetly.

“Jesus—” he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. He doesn’t think the employee breakroom at the gym is the right place to have this conversation. “Listen, don’t cry. I’ll be there, alright?”

Sukuna at least thought he’d actually be with the person he has a kid with. Over the next four years, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

There’s a lot that’s undesirable about the situation, like the fact that every time he leaves his room, he always ends up stepping on Legos because you insist on buying Hana more and leave them at his place, or that he can't eat anything these days without a small hand reaching out for his food.

But the one thing that really makes his blood curdle is whenever he has Hana for the weekend, and she rambles through a mouthful of mac n’ cheese about how you and Yuuji took her to the park, with more stories about Yuuji this and Yuuji that.

He should be grateful his brother is such a doting uncle, yet he grinds his teeth the longer his daughter prattles on.

Out of everything, this is the one thing he chooses to find an issue with: high-school sweetheart Yuuji, pictures of him found in frames all over your house; helpful and supportive, perfectly polite, always-nice-to-be-around-Yuuji who everyone gravitated towards, even you, it seems.  

He tells himself it’ll go away eventually, that strange pit of jealousy festering in his chest like an open wound. It doesn’t.

Sukuna spends so much time thinking about it that he’s thoroughly annoyed by the time you stop by to pick up Hana for the week. 

“Did you guys have a nice weekend? You seem…” Of course, you’d pick up on his shitty mood. “Upset.”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, hoping you’ll leave it alone.

You don’t.

“Listen, if this is about Friday, I told you Yuuji’s okay dropping her off.”

“I bet he is,” Sukuna sneers, shoving the last of Hana’s Legos into her bag.

You huff. “What is your problem?”

“Nothing, but I bet you’ll run back to Yuuji and tell him about it anyway.”

“Are you seriously jealous of your brother?”

He scoffs but doesn’t answer.

“If you want to be with me so badly, just say it.” You put your hands on your hips. “Go on, say it.”

In the end, he breaks first. Wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, he presses his mouth to yours, fingers flexing at your little gasp. When he breaks the kiss, panting a little, he says, “I want to be with you, and I want to raise my fucking kid with you. Happy?”

There’s a scandalized gasp, and he looks down to find Hana standing there with her sandals on the wrong feet, blinking up at him with round eyes. 

“Daddy, that’s a bad word.”

“Listen here, brat—ow.”

𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 ༊*·˚

The first time he meets you, one of the associates for his company introduces you as his wife—a fresh-eyed college student who’s more concerned about staring at other women at the business function than the beautiful one on his arm—and he kindly shakes your hand, watching you give such devoted attention to a man undeserving of it.

What would it be like to be loved like that?

A few years have gone by when he sees you again, except this time, there’s no ring on your finger, and you’re in the middle of walking into his office for an interview with a little boy balanced on your hip.

“Sorry, my babysitter called in sick, and I couldn’t find a replacement in time—Oh.” It’s in that small moment between closing the door and hauling a diaper bug up your shoulder that you recognize him, too. “I didn’t realize you were the one doing the interview.”

He arches a brow. “No?”

“Sorry…again. I didn’t mean it like that, and I’m usually not this unprepared.” You set the toddler down on the floor and straighten out your skirt, giving him a shy, pretty smile.

Nanami swallows and gestures to the seat in front of his desk. “He can stay.”

While he asks you questions, your son—Haru, he learns—keeps busy with a coloring book that you give him, and before you leave after the interview, he silently proffers Nanami a sheet of paper filled with yellow and green crayon squiggles. 

He tacks it to the corkboard wall next to his desk.

When you start working as his office assistant, he never brings up the topic of your ex-husband. It’s obvious the man doesn’t care about his family, anyway—not when you show up most days looking worn out. 

It starts to burn in his chest, the way your eyes drop sometimes, the little reassuring nod he’ll catch you giving yourself after what must’ve been a rough morning. 

Nanami knows he’s in way over his head when he asks you out for coffee; how he’s surprised you say yes, which leads to more dates until he slowly finds that smile of warm devotion aimed in his direction.

Eventually, your things fill the empty spaces in his home, and the spare room in his house becomes a nursery. His once quiet mornings of reading the paper are now pleasantly disrupted by the smell of pancakes and Haru trying to climb into his lap to read with him. 

The first time Haru asks for Nanami after a nightmare—rubbing his wet eyes while standing near Nanami's side of the bed in his shark pajamas, sans one sock, until Nanami scoops him up and deposits him between you—he winces (because he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s taking something away from you) before he notices the soft smile curling your mouth. 

He can’t pretend to fully understand why you ever agreed to that first date when the odds weren’t terribly in his favor, but he has a long time to learn, and right now, he’s focused on other things.

"Quiet, dove,” he murmurs, kissing your temple. “You're going to wake the baby..." 

thank you for reading <3

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ 𝗄𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂 hated himself every time he ended up arguing with you.

hell, even if it’s unintentional, he couldn’t bear to see you isolate yourself instead of communicating, knowing it was when you just want to be alone. but the awful thoughts in your head (like he had another woman) making him wish he could take them all out of your mind.

even though you told him to go away, and used his full name, nanami wouldn’t stop. he’d hold you and reassured you with kind, soothing words.

and if you did, he’d just hold onto you and speak soothingly to calm you down. he brought you to the bed and made sure you both got cozy. he leaned against the headboard while you were in his lap.

he’d wipe away the tears on your face and the ones gathering in your eyes. his other hand would softly brush your cheek, as he apologized for the hurtful words he didn’t intend.

he’d take your knuckle and kiss the marriage ring on your index finger. your heart fluttered, even though you couldn't stand him. kissing every spot on it, he would later rest your hand on his chest so you can feel his heartbeat, making sure you know he’s yours; all while looking at you with affection as his hand gently caressed your hair.

if he successfully comforts you, he won’t let you go, not even to use the bathroom. he’s refuse to sleep by himself, worried you might escape. he’d sleep on the couch, the bathtub, or even the cabinet, but for you? don’t expect too much.

and when you wake up tomorrow, you would notice a breakfast is already prepared beside the coffee table, with a little note “i’m sorry for yesterday’s occurrence, my love. i've to go to work, but i already kissed your forehead beforehand.”

you found yourself smiling widely at the sight.