Reblog If You’ve Read Fanfictions That Are More Professional, Better Written Than Some Actual Novels.

I NEED A FULL LENGTH FIC 70K WORDS

baker nanami kento who opens his shop at 6 am and brews coffee, patiently waiting for the pretty (single) mom who picks up two doughnuts (one which is always free, she is a regular after all) and chats with him about her 4 year old daughter with a kind smile.

he always wants to ask you out — but he’s a little scared, if he’s being honest, that you’ll reject him because of the scarring on the left side of his body.

when he does ask you out, though, you say yes with a warm smile — tease him that you thought he’d never ask.

you get married three years later.

now that i am a real adult i am starting to realise. media lied to me about the availability of rooftops to go hang out on. every day i wish i could be hanging out on a rooftop somewhere looking cool as fuck

GIRL NO YOU’RE MOURNING SOMETHING THAT HASN’T EVEN HAPPENED YET AGAIN!!!!!!

⊹˳⁺ 🕷️🔥💜 WATCHDOG

💜💜 SURPRISE, COVER REVEAL DAY ! 💜💜

I have been bubbling with excitement as I was sitting on this for some weeks now. I’m just so happy to be able to share with you guys the official cover of my debut novel.

P.S Deciding to assign Camilo and Josephine novel the color purple actually came searching up the symbolism behind the color. Which I realized many of the words that symbolize with purple connected with the story of Josephine & Camilo.

⊹˳⁺ ♡ Big thanks to @/booksnmoods (on Instagram) for creating such a wonderful cover for me that I adore so much. It was such a wonderful experience being able to express what I want and my vision being put on such a wonderful cover. Just made my 1st experience of commissioning my first novel cover such a smooth and exciting ride.

Tropes that will be included in Watchdog, Coming Soon

- 🕷️🔥 Bodyguard x Client

- 🕷️🔥 Childhood friends to Lovers

- 🕷️🔥 He falls first

- 🕷️🔥 Interracial Romance

i of course see the appeal of the stoic, tough-guy nanami but many days i find myself just gravitating towards the soft nanami, the gentle nanami, the nanami who kisses every one of your fingers before slipping your engagement ring on for you in the morning, the nanami is open with his love, the nanami who keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet, the nanami who learned a new technique for baking pastries because you tried a pastel de nata one day and loved it, the nanami who keeps his hand around your waist when you're walking through the nearby market, the nanami who gladly gives up his two-bed apartment to move into your cramped little studio since you can't bear to part with the memories just yet, the nanami who hugs you when you cry on the day it's finally time to move into the new house, the nanami who never had a pet growing up but pores over cat owner guidebooks before you pick up your new kitten together, the nanami who paints the spare bedrooms in your favourite colour, the nanami who never raises his voice at your children when they're struggling with homework or practicing the piano too late into the evening, the nanami who helps them instead of reprimanding, the nanami who tells you that you're only becoming more beautiful as the years pass, the nanami who puts your records on the turntable when he's making breakfast for the family every Sunday, the nanami who takes you to the same lovely bistro every anniversary to the point where the chefs recognise you both, the nanami who is eternally grateful to get to build this life with you.

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

TENNESSEE WHISKEY ☆ reiner braun.

☆. warnings — drabble, fluff, drinking, country music, reiner’s lovesick, readers infatuated, slow dancing, making out, going back to reiner’s after to bang. this is nothing special just a random thought.

listening to tennessee whiskey got me thinking about construction worker!reiner who spends this weekend attending a friends concert at the infamous devil’s tavern. he’s got on a white tshirt, light blue washed jeans that are a bit raggedy from being years old. and rugged brown leather boots adorned on his big feet. blonde hair messy from running his hands through it from anxiety. this is their first getup and he could feel his palms sweating. he knew how excited they were for this gig, they’ve been talking about it all week at work on the site they were fixing up. reiner’s sitting at the bar, sipping on a glass of whiskey and bopping his head slowly to the music playing from the other band on stage at the moment.

“what’s got you all sweatin’?” a soft voice pulls him from his thoughts, turning to his left to see a pretty young girl sitting on the stool beside him. glowing brown skin, auburn curly hair that grazed her collarbones, and warm, cat-eye shaped brown eyes. he feels the wind knock out of his lungs, throat going dry. you’re wearing a red and black checkered button down that’s tied to your front above your belly button and it’s butterfly piercing. so much skin exposed he feels naughty just glancing. black shorts hugging your thighs, and a pair of beat up converses. you have a few strands of hair tucked behind both sides of your ears where an array of piercings lay.

you raise a brow at the man’s lingering eyes. “you deaf or sum?”

your smile is pretty, like the moon shining in the sky above the old ranch his father has. reiner clears his throat. “sorry, jus’ got distracted.”

“i’m pretty, aren’t i?” your entire face raises as you smile and coo at him. reiner’s eyes nearly abandon his sockets.

“yeah, i-i guess,” he’s holding onto his glass dripping condensation with both hands, swallowing it from how big his veiny hands were. “change the subject, ma’am.”

“oo, manners. but you never answered my question, hun.” your elbows are leaning against the wood of the bar line, kicking at the ground softly, inching your face closer to his room hear him better. he swears he’s gonna pass out. he’s never met a woman so beautiful like you in his lifetime. the man’s only thirty-two but still.

hazel eyes meet yours as the pink on his soft lips part to speak. he smells nice, you think. looks even nicer. “my friends are playing tonight. they should be on in a few minutes. it’s their first gig.”

“mmm, are they any good?” you take a swig of your beer. he almost looks bewildered when you ask that. you shrug innocently, “what? is that wrong of me to ask?”

“they’re fuckin’ astounding,” reiner corrects you, sounding like a fanboy who’s diehard for his favorite band. think he’s a little tipsy. he hears how he comes off, and the scoff leaving you and immediately goes to apologize. “sorry, sorry. that was rude. i meant that they’re. . . good.”

“nah, you said astounding. stick to that,” you laugh, tilting your head to the side. “i like you. you seem very protective of your friends and their passion.”

then it’s his turn to laugh. “thanks. they’ve been up my ass about showing up tonight so i made a promise that i would. i’ve been in a little drought lately.”

“how come?”

reiner goes silent, staring off into space. the sudden announcement of his friends’ band causes the big, beefy man to sit up straight, a wide smile on his face. his eyes lit up like he’s just won a million dollars, shocking overtaking you as he yells ‘c’mon” over the loud music, grabbing your hand gently and pulling you with him to push past the crowd and make it to the front row. this man you met only a few minutes ago having your heart in the palm of his hand that still interlocked with yours. you felt small under his touch, safe, protected. it’s like going to a concert with a first date. adoring as he jammed out to the mellow, country music, switching to indie tunes. the bands versatility fitting your music taste well.

reiner felt like he was in a dream. squeezing a pretty girls hand as he jams out to his favorite music. feeling free, feeling happy. it’s been a while since he’s felt happy. his friends performed five songs, the last two being covers to famous artists. one of them being tennessee whiskey by chris stapleton. he took this opportunity to dance with you, slow dancing to the tune and smiling into each other’s faces. kissing not long after. your full lips gliding with his own delicately, tasting the strawberry chapstick in your lips. moaning into his mouth and pulling him closer, if that was remotely possible. as the crowd cheered around you two, empty in your heads, you continue to kiss. reiner applauding for his friends mentally. they’re watching with glee for their friend, going to mention it later on.

not long after were you making out against the fluffy sheets of his comforter, wrapping your legs around his waist as you hug him close to you. reiner kissing your neck while making love to you under that same moonlight he saw in your smile.

© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

thinking about desperately riding nanami kento. first few buttons of his blue shirt are undone and his tie is loose around his neck. and you’re tugging on the damn thing, pulling him in closer for a kiss, mumbling something about how ugly his tie is. and he laughs, deep and breathless, as he gives your ass a squeeze. he makes you ride him harder, tells you that the two of you can go shopping first thing tomorrow morning