#and how his father made him want to be a good father bc he wants to give his kids what he was missing as a kid

[artslovergirl]

art & patrick at mark rebellato academy

[headcanons]

notes: i really enjoyed writing this because i just genuinely adore these characters and this movie so much. there's so many interesting little details and nuances there that i could just talk about forever and ever. i truly hope i did them justice here lol (also writing this made me jealous of people that are good at writing character analysis' and thinkpieces bc wow it is hard!) but yeah enjoy!

wordcount: 3.4k

they met at age 12 during their first day at the mark rebellato academy in their now shared room. 

when art came in with a duffel bag (that looked comically big next to his scrawny kid body) patrick was already sitting on the bed he had claimed(the right side next to the door) all by himself, his parents didn't have a very tearful nor long goodbye as they sent their son off to boarding school.

in contrast art’s mom and grandma seemed keen to embarrass him in front of his new roommate with their cooing and hugging him goodbye. 

it wasn't even like his mom and him were really all that close though. she just seemed to want to squeeze in all the moments of a loving mother-son relationship into the small segments of time she actually spent with him.

the goodbye hug and small ruffle of his hair from his grandma felt a little more genuine. embarrassing all the same as he could feel the other dark haired boy try not to crack up at the display.

"mom. please." he pleaded with her as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "i’m sorry, artie, but i need to make up for all the time i'm gonna miss with you!" yeah, he bets.

a few minutes later and a tear or two from his mother they did finally leave him be. as soon as he heard the door shut though, the awkward silence enveloping the room almost made him miss them. 

he threw his duffel bag on the left bed and sat down on the edge. he fidgeted with his bottom lip, a nervous habit he's had for as long as he could remember. 

the brunette boy shifted on the bed so he was now facing him. his mouth pulled into a toothy grin "so you're...artie?" 

art groaned and hid his head in his hands, slumped over his knees. "no, that's..just my moms nickname for me. sorry you had to see that." he says in a squeaky broken voice which didn't help the embarrassment he was already feeling.

the other boy just brushed right past all that and said "i’m patrick." and then as an afterthought, "zweig."

"uh." art leaned back up, still avoiding his gaze. it was weirdly intense. "yeah, i’m..art. um, donaldson." he said the last part like it was a question almost.

patrick began to swing his legs a little. it was clear to him that art was the quiet type even if they had just exchanged a few words so far, but luckily patrick didn't mind talking. it was something his father always hated about him. he almost talked enough for both of them which after a little while finally seemed to break the ice of art's shy exterior. 

art didnt know what he thought about patrick yet. he was pretty..confident that was for sure. even a little arrogant, maybe. art scolded himself internally for being so judgemental. it was quality he hated about himself, but seemingly couldn’t get rid of.

despite all of that he had to admit that patrick was easy to talk to. there was never an uncomfortable gap in conversation with him. which art liked since those kinds of things made him want to crawl out of his skin sometimes.

that first night he spent staying up with patrick, slowly realizing how much they had in common while simultaneously being complete opposites, is one of his fondest memories and probably always will be. he never experienced another connection that felt anything even close to that.

their room wasn't too small but with the way patrick would just constantly toss his clothes wherever he pleased it seemed a lot smaller. 

it's not like art was insanely neat or anything, he was still a teenage boy. patrick was just exceptionally messy.

"patrick, this shit is so gross, i told you to use the hamper." 

patrick groaned, "youre such a neatfreak, fuck off." 

at that response a pair of dirty boxers were thrown at his head, courtesy of art. "i don't want to see or smell your worn underwear. that doesn't make me a neatfreak." 

patrick just tossed it back in art’s direction, to which the blonde quickly scurried out of the way to dodge it like his life depended on it. 

"you know if tennis doesn't work out for you, you'll make a good housewife." patrick grinned mockingly.

“ha-ha.” art just rolled his eyes, stuck up his middle finger and let the door slam behind him with his racket bag slung over his shoulder. 

trying to get patrick to do anything was like trying to teach a cat to do a trick without any treats. borderline impossible. so by age 15 art finally gave up.

...until he realized a year later that patrick would clean his side of the room whenever they had a girl over so..

yeah, sometimes he did lie and tell patrick that a girl was coming over just so he would clean his side of the room. 

you can judge him all you want but you never had to room with patrick zweig

 and after the third time that trick stopped working anyway. art was never a good liar. or maybe patrick could just call his bullshit way too easily.

they didn't fight too often, it was more like they constantly got into little tiffs

except for that time where it got so out of hand that they duct-taped a line dividing their rooms into two sides. (i know this is giving sitcom i'm sorry but tell me i'm wrong)

eventually they kind of forgot what they even fought about in the first place but they were too lazy to take the tape off of the carpet, so it just stayed on there for like 2 years till it peeled off.

like i mentioned in my other post these two were BITCHES

they would def talk shit all the time. they were not even trying to be secret about it tbh. (see: them staring at anna crying at tashi's party)

they sat in the bleachers watching one of their classmates play a practice match

“dude, look at that forehand. it sucks.” art muttered. patrick nodded, “i know. no way she’ll even make it through the semester.” “i’ll be surprised if she makes it through this match without fracturing her wrist.” patrick snickered at art’s comment.

actual mean girls LMAO

and to be fair, they were fucking amazing at tennis, especially when they played together

so it's not like anyone could necessarily insult them back

but it also wasn't bullying or anything

they were just judgy and loved to talk shit

art had some decorum about it or felt bad about it sometimes. not patrick though. 

man has no shame. never did. as art so lovingly puts it “the part of his brain that feels shame withered away a long time ago.”

art wore glasses from ages 12 till 14 

he then switched to contact lenses because patrick said girls dont like guys with glasses and that they make him look nerdy

they weren't allowed to have any sort of electronics like computers or flip phones at the academy. not even mp3 players. 

now obviously patrick completely ignored that rule. he had like three flip phones under his bed in case his actual one ever got taken (it did)

he also smuggled in 2 mp3 players (one was for art, patrick is so kind… he did charge him 4 dollars for it though. that rich asshole. lmao)

honestly i would like to insert here what i think they would have listened to but..i was like..a baby when they wouldve been at the academy so..feel free to drop your music headcanons in the reblogs or comments 

they were only allowed one weekly call to their families from the communal landline.

neither patrick nor art were very fond of these calls so even though they weren't supposed to they would always go into the phone room together.

patricks mother always insisted on speaking in german with her son. he thought she only did it because it made her feel more connected to his father’s side of the family. not like it would fix their fucked up marriage though. 

“nein, mama, ich habe mein deutsch nicht vergessen.” (no, mom, i havent forgotten my german) he sighs. art sits on the floor next to him and flicks a rubber band at him. “ja, verstanden. ja, ich weiß.” (yes, understood. yes, i know.) he rolls his eyes. 

art understood a few of the basic words since patrick taught him some german after art asked how to correctly pronounce his last name. 

“..bis nächste woche. tschüss.” (talk to you next week. bye.) he hung up. his mom said i love you but he knew she didn't mean it so he didn't say it back. 

patrick groaned and stretched out his legs that were seemingly getting longer by the day (art secretly prayed for a growth spurt that would make him taller than patrick. right now he was still pretty short for a guy his age.) 

he handed the phone to art. “she always talks so much. it's like i'm not even on the other line.” patrick scowls. art just nodded. he knew that by now.

art called his grandma but his dad picked up instead. it was okay. talking to his dad felt a little like talking to some distant uncle that he only saw once a year, “how's it going, champ?” “good.” “great.” that kinda stuff

the phone call lasted 5 minutes. he stood up and hung the phone back on the receiver. 

“wanna smoke?” patrick asked already reaching for the two loose cigarettes stuffed into his jean shorts pocket.

art nodded. he didn't really like smoking, and he kind of only did it because patrick did. and whenever he did, all he could think about was how bad for him it was. 

he was always pretty conscious about that kinda stuff, it was a little drilled into him by his dad who was the most adamant about art becoming a tennis player since he used to be one when he was younger.

so sugar and fats (basically anything that tasted good) were pretty much banned in the donaldson household 

which kind of resulted in art subconsciously believing that anything that brought him joy or pleasure must be inherently bad for him or followed by a feeling of guilt and shame to make up for it.

needless to say art wasn't the best at indulging. he was a little jealous of how patrick never seemed to have any issue with that sort of thing.

patrick didn't care about maintaining a good diet or depriving himself of life's pleasures for the sake of tennis. he took what he wanted like life owed it to him. 

maybe that's why he smoked with patrick. to try and be more like him?

also because it gave him a nice sense of rebellion.

most things he did with patrick gave him that feeling.

at the academy they were the definition of ‘not sold separately’

if you saw one the other wasn't far behind

its not like they didn't have other friends. they did. they were pretty popular actually

but none of those friendships were anything like what art and patrick had.

especially when playing doubles.

it felt like they could communicate telepathically 

patrick knew when art was going for the ball before the other team even served and vice versa.

tennis felt different when they were playing together. better.

and it felt so easy, it felt like nothing they needed to work on. their friendship was the same. it was so easy, so natural.

after about a year or so of being friends they started being in sync. literally.

they cross their legs at the same time, they pick up their rackets at the same time, they adjust their forehand grip at the same time, they walk at the same pace, they sit down the same etc etc you get it

also that isn't really a headcanon, like this is canon in the movie. and it makes me SICK that they were still in sync in 2019. after not talking for 12 years. shut up that’s some soulmate shit

now let's talk about something else that is canon…the pushed together beds.

yes!

now, i think patrick is a person that is pretty open with his body in general in terms of like being physically affectionate. or just being physical. 

i don't know if art is, i think he's a little more reserved. (repressed if you will! i will!)

but patrick touching him so casually does fill a little tiny (gaping) void in him that yearns for touch.

he is a professional yearner as we all know

and patrick never had an issue satisfying those yearnings for him. (i think we saw that in the fact that patrick taught art how to jerk off ok next topic)

patrick would sling his arm around his shoulder, lay his long legs over arts lap, ruffle arts curls (“stop that, you're messing them up.” “no, i'm not they always look like this”),he would barge into their room after practice flopping his tall sweaty body on top of art to annoy him.

they were very physically affectionate it was just all under the guise of shoving and tripping each other and just general teenage boy roughhousing shenanigans. that counts as a love language to me ok!

art got used to patrick touching him very quick and even reciprocated sometimes 

also i do think that sometimes patrick would smack art’s ass as a joke. lol. (that's inspired by that video of the two doubles players doing that…do you guys know what i’m talking about)

OK SO!

the beds.

they were 16. patrick suggested it. “these beds are too fucking small.” he complained, laying on his staring at the smoke detector that he had covered with a shower cap so it wouldnt detect the smoke from his cigarettes. 

and to be fair…yeah. patrick stood at 1,80 cm right now and his feet were hanging over the edge of the bed.

art looked up from his book which he was only reading to impress a girl he had a crush on. patrick had told him to just pretend he read it but art said that was disingenuous and he wanted to know what she liked and why she liked it. 

“you know what we should do? we should push our beds together.” patrick sat up, grinning like he just had the best idea ever. 

arts features twisted up in thought. “isn't that a little close?” 

“nah, why, we still have our own beds. just more space.” patrick shrugged.

he glanced at their beds. “uhhh…i guess we can do that. the beds are a little cramped. although is that even allowed?” art began fidgeting with his lip like he usually did when he was in thought.

but patrick was already in the process of shoving his bed next to arts after which he let himself fall onto the two beds in a starfish position, with his gangly limbs almost stretching to every corner of the beds. “oh. great. and i’ll just curl up at the foot of the bed then?” art gave patrick a deadpan stare. 

“up to you.” patrick grinned in that specific way that really irked art. 

patrick did make some space for him once they actually went to sleep that night

even now they were two opposites making a whole

patrick always ran cold so he hogged all the blankets and art always ran hot so he immediately kicked them off of him as soon as he fell asleep 

that only made this new pushed together beds thing even better for patrick because he now got to have his own blanket AND steal arts every night

i wouldn't say they cuddled necessarily? i think it was more just like the regular amount of physical touching that happens when you sleep in the same bed

which is still pretty intimate to me idk about you guys

like their legs kind of thrown over each others, art’s arm occasionally draped over patricks chest (or literally on his face. art denies every time that he does it on purpose but patrick KNOWS he does it to annoy him. he knows.) 

one time art had a nightmare of being trapped under a rock only to wake up and find out that somehow patrick had rolled over in the middle of the night and was now laying COMPLETELY on top of art. right before he was about to push him off (because he was making art actively suffocate) patrick rolled over again and fell out of bed. he didn't even wake up from that. genuinely just slept on the floor that night. freak of nature that guy.

also patrick for sure twitches like a dog in his sleep

and i think it used to wake art up because he's a pretty light sleeper but eventually he just got used to it lol

when art went to stanford he never finished the last bite of anything he ate because he was so used to patrick being next to him and just stealing the last bite.

patrick really really wanted to get his ears pierced when he was 15. 

so naturally he asked art to do it for him.

you know…like how they did it in the parent trap. which if you asked them is a movie that they definitely haven't seen. ( but they did see it and art cried at the twins reuniting with their parents, oops.)

unfortunately for patrick art was very very squeamish with needles at that age (i think that mellowed down the older he got but he still refused to look whenever he got vaccinations or anything like that.) 

so now it was midnight, they were in their room sitting on the floor and arguing

“dude, just do it, stop being such a wuss. you're not even the one getting pierced.” patrick groaned, he had numbed his earlobe with ice but he could already feel a little bit of the feeling return to it, that's how long they had been sitting there with art squirming around because he hated even looking at the sewing needle.  

“that's worse though because i have to look at the needle going in your ear!” art argued

“ well, i can't do it myself.” patrick replied.

...

“are you wearing my shirt?” art squinted at him

“stop trying to change the subject.” 

“i told you to stop stealing my clothes. i don't want to do laundry that often.”

“can you focus?” patrick groaned

“dude.. okay, fine. just give me a second.” art took a deep breath.

“oh. my god. you're not performing open heart surgery.” 

“shut the fuck up.”

“you shut the fuck up.” 

and what do you know that response got art to get over his fear of needles for a second and stab that thing right through his best friends ear 

the little high pitched yelp patrick let out in surprise at that is something art didn't let him forget about for like two weeks after

it took about another hour for art to pierce patricks second ear and eventually they managed but then like a week later patrick forgot to put his earrings in and the piercings immediately grew shut

so all that drama was for nothing!

i think art has always kind of been the type of guy to want domesticity. 

i already posted about this somewhere but i kind of came to that conclusion because patrick said “he wants to spend time with his family” to tashi in the alley scene

patrick hadn’t spoken to art for like a decade at that point

and you could say it's a good guess but NO! 

patrick knows art like the back of his hand and patrick knows that art has always wanted a family and how much it probably kills him to miss out on time with them due to his career at that point in time (also just throwing this out there i think art always wanted to have a daughter more than a son, like that just makes sense to me. maybe bc i think his own relationship with his dad is so distant? idk!)

so yeah

also the sauna scene where patrick says that marriage isn't what he was for 

(to me) also implies that he is the opposite of art who was meant for marriage

anyway do i think that art shared his wishes for a family and marriage in the future with patrick? yes

do i think patrick jokingly made art promise to make him his best man? yeah

and furthermore do i think about the fact that patrick then had to read about arts wedding in some tabloid years later? yep!

i’m sure i could think of more in the future but that's all i've got for now! i hope this was coherent enough to enjoy because it’s not as proofread as my fics usually are lol! i just wanted to get these thoughts out there

if some of these seem familiar it might be because i took some of these from my twt!

i also have some more headcanons floating around on my tumblr that i didn't include here if you want to find those, or not, i'm not your mom! 

[suffarustuffaru]

Genuine question do you think there's a chance that Julius could be into Subaru? Because I only really hear about Subaru being into Julius when it comes to Juilsuba

(no arc 5+ spoilers in this post)

short answer: yes, i think there’s a chance. a pretty good chance. but whether you want to interpret julius as being Romantically into subaru is up to you. however theres no denying that subaru is special to julius and that julius Loves this guy.

long answer: so i will give the following disclaimer to this, which is that i can only really speak for my own interpretations of the text. for this ask i talked a bit with a few different mutuals about this (bc while i really enjoy julius and julisuba A Lot i wouldnt consider myself an Expert so—peer reviewing it is :3) but—yes im speaking for my opinions here, so in general i recommend looking over the text/media yourself to see what you think too 👍👍

and i think in general like. i wish we saw more subaru ships from the non-subaru lens of it!! :o speaking as someone whos made shippy content from both subarus pov and the other pov, while im not perfect with it either, i just think that it’s always important to get that other pov. and sometimes its kind of a forgotten part !! :< i just think its interesting 1. seeing someone fall in love from subaru, 2. getting that outside pov of subaru, and 3. it makes the dynamic truly equal to focus on the other side of it too 👍 i dont have a lot of julisuba content atm (this will change eventually) but in the past ive rambled a bit about julius’s side of julisuba in one of my….. bdsm……………… posts :3 but anyway ill summarize what i think is going on with julius’s side here:

for julius, his prim and proper knightly persona is pretty like. i get the vibe that hes really Cultivated himself into this over time, especially bc he wasnt involved with nobility until his parents died and his uncle took him in and joshua started trying to shape julius too into what he is now. julius used to be a bit of delinquent (dont know How delinquent he was exactly but just that he was) and of course theres a big switch into julius learning noble and knightly ways and norms, julius trying to keep that armor around his heart, according to subaru. it’s learned behavior and now he struggles a little taking it off. being a knight is entrenched into julius’s familial and personal values, and julius Always strives for perfection. julius seems so put together that we kinda forget he too has his flaws but similar to subaru, he can be a bit pushy, a bit oblivious, a bit reckless. looking at the world in slight rose colored tint. pushing for More. accidentally stepping over others, maybe, but striving for strength in their own ways. Greedy. they’re kindred spirits in that way.

on the flipside of that, subaru inspires imperfection out of julius. repeatedly. subaru inspires julius to get that part of him from his childhood where he was this earnest overzealous passionate little kid and let it out again instead of being prim and proper 24/7. “juli”.

julius steps in to save subaru during arc 3 also bc julius sees himself in subaru—a passionate kid who fumbles in every single direction but that heart is there, and subaru is a walking whirlwind bc unlike julius, he can’t slap a prim and proper persona over it. he wears everything on his sleeve. he’s misguided, in the wrong, but still. his Heart is a tempting sight, and it hits julius a little personally. subaru was a mirror of julius, the part of julius that julius tried to hide a little all while subaru Offends the knights and says shit like how the knights cling to their father’s names (when julius almost kinda does cling to his family name and his knightly ideals to make himself into something Bigger and Grander), but of course julius has Morals and cant let subaru get hurt to the other knights. and sacrifices his reputation in the process—

(these are from the Arc 3 interlude that shows Julius’s side of the duel aftermath)

“did you find his tarnishing of your knightly pride unforgivable to that extent”…… and of course julius readily accepting punishment 👀👀

“the very symbol of his pride as a knight”…. yeah that duel meant several things to julius, and it sets up the entirety of julisuba from here on out. julius treasures idealism—

(hooray juliemisuba crumbs!!) but… julius noting how this duel wasn’t enough to break subarus spirit 👀👀 “It would not be such a bad thing to trade swords with a fool full of idealism once more.” “As for an annoyance… perhaps he was that, a little bit.” fucking hilarious but also so true—bc julius himself is Also a fool full of idealism. naturally, he takes a liking to subaru quickly which then leads to him declaring subaru his friend in later arc 3 <3

“It is truly in Lady Emilia’s nature to cause pain in others…. That very nature is what allows her to live as nobly and beautifully as she does. I do not deign to wish her to change. Thus, all I can do is hope that she lives more righteously, more genuinely, without anything to be ashamed of.” / “Does that go for the boy, too?” / “It goes for everyone…. It is for that very reason I wield a sword.”

It goes for everyone, julius says. these are values he treasures most in himself and in others, and once he sees it in others, he finds himself drawn to them. (though def interesting how julius doesnt 100% answer ferris’s next question on subaru straightforwardly…) julius comments on emilia here, but its also like. why does julius, the upstanding picture of a knight, follow anastasia, a cutthroat business woman? (other than her being the absolute coolest and the ana camp being a whole family <3)

its bc of greed and ambition. the strive for something greater, to dedicate your life to your passions and devotions. theres a whole ss about how julius is told by ana that she wants the best knight possible and bc of his own insecurity assumes she Must mean reinhard—but no. julius is the finest knight for a reason—bc he painstakingly shapes himself to be that way. of course he sees a similar sort of trait in subaru, how subaru shapes himself to be something greater too, and julius finds himself a littleeee starry eyed. perhaps. pun intended.

anyway. this is my long winded way of saying—yeah, julius is drawn to subaru for a lot of reasons. julius quickly finds himself attached to subaru in arc 3, and subaru coaxes out julius’s imperfection while encouraging julius’s passions.

as far as i know (of course feel free to add onto this if im missing stuff), there isnt anything in canon that reads as particularly homoerotic about subaru from julius’s pov. at least not to the same level as subaru repeatedly checking out julius’s body and saying julius is oh so handsome LMFAO. (though julius’s rainbow spirits are super cool.) so i cant definitively go “julius is 100% romantically into subaru”. especially as im asexual myself so personally romance is fun to me but not always a requirement for every ship’s depiction (or at the very least i Love exploring ships having different dynamics across different iterations of them)—so this is more so me going “theyre so intimate with each other in their own ways !!! i love viewing them from multiple angles !!!” <3 but their friendship and what they have in canon is extremely good foundation for romance. and julius likes subaru a Lot!! theyve gone through quite a bit together and theres More to come !!

[dutybcrne]

Thinking abt Kae’s Fatui verse,,,,

[captain-amadeus]

Yall would not believe how Roland wasn't actually forcing Sofia to call him dad, and in fact, was unsure of what would be more comfortable for her to call him.

You can clearly see how Roland didn't want Sofia to feel like she had to address him as formally as she was with "Your Majesty," but didn't want to force her to call him something she wasn't comfortable with. Especially since he's just getting to know her, Roland wouldn't want to rush Sofia into calling him dad, since she would need time to adjust with having a new father.

Roland was just suggesting some names that Sofia could use, and maybe would've been ok with Sofia using Your Majesty if it was by her choice, but the way she sounded nervous while addressing him made him reassure her that she didn't need to worry about being formal with him.

And I say maybe because "Your Majesty" sounds like something Roland's father might've made him address him as. If Roland had to be formal with his own father, it would've made him feel detached from even having a real father, instead feeling he was being raised by an authority figure. Roland wouldn't want Sofia to feel that way.

Roland would want his children to feel comfortable calling him whatever they wanted because he wants them to know that he respects them and cares for them emotionally.

[hauntingblue]

Oden's prophecy of young pirates coming to save wano becoming yamato's hope for his freedom.... and him becoming oden because of it.... it's just so good... on the other side luffy taking ace's spot for liberating yamato... I think I hauve covid

[padfootastic]

dear miss padfootastic: harry learning he's gonna be a dad and promptly losing his mind and going to the only person he can think of for dad advice: sirius.

gosh miss imp i have so many thoughts about this!!!!!! (i wrote almost all of this and realised that i did it post birth lol bc that’s the moment that made the most sense to me but we can easily doctor it to be pre birth as well!!)

- the first time harry holds james sirius in his hands, he has to dip out in three minutes flat to puke all over the nearest washroom. it’s sirius holding him, brushing his hair back, and soothing him on the dirty hospital floor. tells him that he did something super similar when he held harry for the first time too. it doesn’t hit harry then.

- when they’re all back at home, the first few days, it’s all a sort of frantic autopilot where he has no time to think. it’s only when things calm down a bit that he realised how his hands shake and his pulse races when he thinks about being a father. it’s not…debilitating bc it’s his duty, one he asked for, and harry’s never been one to back down from a duty. but it’s still—he doesn’t want to be a passable dad, he wants to be a good one.

- so he goes to the best one he knows: sirius.

- the thing here is, harry thinks he’s gonna be a terrible dad. he was abused and neglected in his most developmental stages of life, never really knew what unconditional love felt like let alone parental, and does not trust himself around a vulnerable defenceless child. knowledge of his anger and it’s consequences does not help.

- but also to consider: sirius had almost an exact similar experience. he was equally terrified to be a godfather for harry bc he never trusted himself w delicate things. so he knows, intimately, what’s it’s like to fear yourself.

- it doesn’t get better with one conversation. sirius knew this going in. what he does, instead, is help harry become confident by being there, always, without fail. makes him see that he’s got this down pat, and his child loves and trusts and adores him and there’s no greater privilege than that. he’s there every single time as a safety net, to tell harry that nothing will go wrong, yes, but also to prove he doesn’t need anyone else.

- it’s also a whole lot of ‘omg this is so difficult, you did this for me?????’ and just. realisations about ‘omg u changed my diaper??? i peED ON YOU??????’ that basically make it impossible for him to look sirius in the eye for a few days.

- another point to consider: harry sees sirius with jemmy from an outsider pov yeah? and he can finally see what others have all this time: how sirius looks at someone he loves wholeheartedly, how much he adores his children. and it’s humbling and awe-inspiring and a bit terrifying. imagining the full force of that love directed towards him, making him wonder what he did to deserve it

- there’s a loooooot of midnight/asscrack of morning firecalls/mirror calls etc for emergency assistance bc ‘are babies supposed to sleep like tho at! he’s been farting all night sirius iTS SO BAD! omg his poop is green padfoot is my baby toxic?????’ ykno. normal new dad stuff.

(and this is random but there’s also one,,,,forbidden conversation with sirius about it he’d ever hated him bc harry had some very unsavoury thoughts in the beginning when he had teddy that he hates himself for to this day and if he has to hear his godfather say he didn’t want him to get rid of them then he’ll do it. it’s a tough but necessary one)

[lilgynt]

naturally i’m gonna be very upset at 6:09 am after an all-nighter over my brother and his actions

[thebestestbat]

raven and jgy are also kind of complete opposite characters bc jgy's entire teenage and young adult life was about trying to find a way to become his evil father's right hand man and raven's entire teenage and young adult life was about avoiding her evil father's attempts to make her his right hand woman.

[welcometogrouchland]

well idk about anyone else but i- as the anon who sent u the darius camila ask in the first place, would be elated

I'M WORKIN ON IT FOR U ANON 🫡

[aro-ortega]

i have GOT to replay beck valentine

[witchywcmans]

PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 3k

song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa

author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.

You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.

You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.

Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.

Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious. 

You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.

“Am I dead?” You asked softly. 

Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”

Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.

Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”

“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?” 

But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.

No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.

But the need between your legs still throbbed.

“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.” 

He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”

“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced. 

“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor.  “What should I do?”

“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.

Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”

“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment.  Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”

Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.

Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.

It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.

Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”

“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”

“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface. 

This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.

Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”

Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”

“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”

He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”

You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface. 

“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”

You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit. 

He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake. 

“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”

“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.

Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”

“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.

You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …

You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.

“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”

He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”

“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?” 

[kanalaure]

i think about this literally all the time. feanor is a singularity, and he would have been a singularity even if he HADN'T been brilliant. he literally was set apart from his first moments, and then again when his father bartered his happiness for his own*

there's one thing where i don't quite agree, and it's that he probably isn't the first elf to ever lose someone and see their body? because middle earth is dangerous-- there's wild animals like boar, and high places and deep waters, plants that they had to discover if were safe to consume or not...... any number of things that could kill you either passively or intentionally. the elves agreed to go to aman even after melkor was chained. but i also find it really likely that those who had accident-driven deaths were let out of mandos, maybe even following the arrivals of the vanyar, noldor, and teleri. and miriel........

but even beyond that, miriel's death is set apart because they don't actually know what happened. there's a body (like the ones who had an accident), but they aren't entirely sure what happened to cause that (more like the ones lost to the dark rider and never returned or emerged from the halls of mandos. also: your periodic reminder that the narrator is not unbiased, and may in fact be guessing or repeating a common conclusion). on top of that she is refusing to come out, and it makes them nervous. this place is supposed to be perfect, it's supposed to be safe. so they need to find a cause, and they decide that feanor is it (no wonder he spent so much of his life away from tirion wandering. i wouldn't want to be there either) so they can pretend nothing's wrong and it can never happen again

(and, well. it DIDN'T happen again. so maybe it really was that miriel put too much of herself into the making of feanor and was exhausted enough to need sleep unburdened by a body that needs things that'd interrupt rest and then spent the next however many years being bothered by people who wanted to know 'are you coming out now?' until she went 'never. fuck off and let me rest.' but its still a horrible thing to make a CHILD shoulder)

and then, to top that off, the first provably premeditated violent death (ever) was finwe. feanor's father, his only parent, slaughtered in his front hall. following that, namo refused to release him, making feanor the first orphan in aman with no hope of reuniting with his parents.** no damn wonder he lost it

sometimes I think about how things went down in valinor and it’s no wonder that fëanor was Like That TM. like imagine you’re fëanor. You live in the equivalent of paradise, the so-called undying lands and everything is supposed to be perfect.

“oh yeah all the elves are immortal and they don’t really die. and anyway this is the safest place in the world so what could possibly happen? all elves are immortal and nobody has ever died. oh except for miriel þerindë, fëanor’s mother. yeah, no one knows why she died. she died giving birth to fëanor. yeah, it’s a mystery to everyone.”

“oh yeah elves never remarry. we only marry one person our whole lives. oh except the high king of the noldor, finwë, fëanor’s father. yeah, he wanted more kids so he remarried his old wife’s friend. yeah, the valar let it happen. Each to their own I guess.”

Like this guy spent his entire life being the exception to fundamental conceptions widely accepted by everyone around him. It’s a truth universally acknowledged that elves don’t die—except fëanor’s mother. It’s a truth universally acknowledged that elves don’t remarry—except fëanor’s father.

How do you deal with the grief of losing your mother when no one around you has really experienced loss? Like yes the elves from cuiviénen have but that wasn’t really the same thing; the elves melkor abducted from cuiviénen just kind of disappeared—can that really be called death for someone (elves) who have no concept of death and loss except for this? how do you cope with being the only elf in literally your entire world who has experienced the loss and death of someone close? How do you deal with a feeling so complex and harrowing when no one can relate to your experience at all? When no one can feel what you’re feeling? When no one has before?

Like congrats! You are officially the first elf ever to experience the death of a loved one! You are the pioneer for grief! The prototype! No one can really help you through it because they don’t understand losing a mother. like how do you even begin deal with that?

apparently you don’t. fëanor clearly didn’t. but like is it any wonder why

and then on top of that! How do you deal with your father being the only other exception in the entire continent? Elves don’t remarry and no one else ever has, no one else does, but it’s fine when your father does it? and you’re supposed to be perfectly okay with that? With your father having more kids with a different wife and not feeling like he’s replacing you? And again! How do you deal with all of these complicated feelings that come along with it when no one around you has experienced something similar? how do you cope with being the only elf in literally your entire world who has to adapt to these circumstances? How do you deal with a feeling so complex and harrowing when no one can relate to your experience at all? When no one can feel what you’re feeling? When no one has before? Especially on top of whatever you’re feeling wrt the grief of losing your mother?

and then when melkor Does his Thing, literally the first elf ever to be killed in the entire world they know in valinor is fëanor’s beloved father. valinor is supposed to be a safe haven where the elves are the safest they can ever be because this place is the ultimate safe and beautiful place. There is no danger here—except there is. No elf has ever been killed (as in being stabbed and bleeding to death and leaving a body behind)—except finwë, fëanor’s father. How do you deal with the grief of loss that’s so different and at the same time so similar to the one you didn’t know how to deal with before? What do you do?

you’re already the single elf to have experienced the grief of losing a mother. you’re already the exception to everybody’s rule. you were promised that this place was unfailingly perfect and safe and yet you’re not safe. Why isn’t it as safe as you were promised it’d be? Why is it your dad that dies? Why isn’t anyone else? How is that fair?

like yeah, no wonder fëanor was Like ThatTM

[jamminvroomvroom]

no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

-

whoops? lol

-

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789

(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)

[hauntingblue]

Ennies Lobby 3.0. yes that's happening I have too much to yap about

Omg look at these freaks

Franky is so real.... look at him....

Omg 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I have teared up so many times just bc luffy smiles with meaning at some point. insane btw.

MY GOOOOOOOD!!!!!! AAAAAAARGGGGGHHHHH

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

The neutrality of it all....

I forgor about aokiji revealing that he was friends with Saul and that he was protecting her because of it... the "live life and prove to me that ohara is still alive"... damn reminds me of garp saying to ace that he would find out if it was wrong for him to be born. "I don't know if it was right or wrong for saul to let you live" yeah that's it. But anyways all this happened because aokiji was loyal to his friend and now we know that he didn't even kill him!! So why is he with blackbeard?? I can't shake it!!!

I can't do it.... I can't.....

Luffy and franky talking about how mich they like the ship while he's chasing his speedos bottomless through the city 😭😭 it's so sweet actually... Franky only has one pair of speedos... thats why he ran thru the city to get them I get it now

"If you don't mind being a little rough I'm wiling to help" robin you freaky girl. But truly that is one of many robin and luffy's autistic communication moments they just know. Also if robin stopped crushing his balls but everyone could see the hands being there that means that she was just holding them for a while while he wept. Normal things here.

Franky blaming himself all this time... 🥺🥺

And he just takes his trunks and walks to the ship without putting them on akdjaosnso alpha moment while saying a melancholic goodbye to your family... crazy

What.... what is he doing

Luffy's fake ass laughing and saying how usopp will do great on his own.... I am seeing you cold sweat

This shit has always been so funny to me.... luffy definitely suffers from nepotism

Usopp asking if they don't know he's sniper king skdbjs no, they (luffy) don't know akdjaons

Look at these wet little beasts omg. Matching icons akdhaksjks

DADAN MENTION????? IN THE ACE VS BLACKBEARD CHAPTER????? AAAAAAAAHHHHH

Face card and pose unmatched as of yet. Look at the evidence.

I am killing myself now. Goodbye.

But I'm already dead!! Yohohoho... Anyways water seven and enies lobby is done.... I am scared (thriller bark) of what is coming you have no idea. Also!! Luffy nearly dying after hia battle with lucci starts the domino effect of luffy being barely strong enough to save everyone until it climaxes in sabaody and then culminates in marineford which is crazy to me btw. Luffy's evolution until then is about how no matter how strong he is it would never be enough. Insane. I don't know what else to say. I love you robin and franky. ACE STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP. nvm it's too late already. AAAAAHHHHHH

[pedgito]

↝ FOR THE WORK (10k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Using your neighbors address for deliveries doesn’t seem like the worst idea until you find yourself with a world of dilemmas and a burgeoning crush on the single dad who lives there. [Pre-Outbreak]

↝ PATROLS (17k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: A story of how things began, where they ended up, and where they might go. A collection of patrols over the course of several months is forcing you closer to Joel than you ever imagined, tense circumstances leading to hasty decisions and one bad choice after the next.[Set Post S1]

↝ SOFT & SWEET (5k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based around Work Song by Hozier. A comfort fic with lots of angst and fluffy goodness. Content Warnings: mentions of violence/blood/fighting (nothing graphic), joel being in a state of shock, sex for comfort/coping, no heavy sex warning it’s just v intimate, psuedo love confessions bc joel is bad with words

↝ MEET ME IN THE WOODS (50k words) | (Finished Series) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Taking a much needed vacation for the holiday, you aren't aware your cabin has been double-booked until you're face to face with the other guest the night you arrive, left with a big decision to make and the possibility of a month with a man you know nothing about. But, through communication and isolation, you learn that you and him might not be that different after all. Consumed by your shared loneliness, you find company in the unlikeliest of place—a stranger named Joel, in the middle of the woods. [No Outbreak] (6 chapters)

↝ MET THE DEVIL LAST NIGHT (6k words) — (AU) Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: 18+ Demon!Joel, Virgin!Reader, this was little plot and mostly smut lol.

↝ THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR RIDING (3k words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots.

↝ HANDSOME, DIRTY, RICH (12k words) — BFD!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: The rich father of your bestfriend, Sarah — Joel Miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided. ↝ RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW (2.7k words) Summary: joel is celebrating your one year anniversary with a few surprises.

↝ MILLER'S GIRL (24k+ words) | (Finished Series) — (AU) Professor!Joel Miller

Summary: A sudden infatuation with your professor yields strange, unnerving results and Joel Miller, in his first semester at a new job finds himself in an unlikely position with a student that hides their intentions behind innocence.

↝ MOONLIGHT (8k words) — No Outbreak!Joel Miller

Summary: a series of nights spent with a neighbor you find an unlikely connection with, sharing a similar interest to pass the time, it forms into something much more intense and suddenly, neither of you can deny it anymore.

↝ STICKY SWEET (3.2k words) — dbf!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You're stranded, you need help—of course, Joel Miller is your savior.

↝ DIRTY LAUNDRY (5.6k words) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You've got an issue and joel's willing to solve it. After all, what are neighbors for?

↝ ANYWHERE BUT HERE (1.8k words) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: A poor damsel in distress, saved by the most unlikely of man.

↝ ABSOLUTION (Ongoing Series, last updated 7/18) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Moving in with your soon-to-be stepfather under the roof of his brother, Joel, ends up being a turning point of change in your life.

REMORSE FOR REMEDY (Ongoing Series, last updated 8/21) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Alone, the Miller's brothers seem like your only hope. The outbreak is still fresh, weeks after the fall and all that matters is survival and the unlikely comfort that comes along with a man who wants nothing to do with you.

BONUS (+ other characters):

TWO IS BETTER THAN ONE (9k words) — Tommy x Reader x Joel

Summary: Both the Miller brothers have a thing for you and you have a thing for them. They give you an ultimatum and you don’t like that. So, instead of one, you choose both.

UPDATED: 8/23/2024

[pepperyduck]

growing old with kento nanami, pt. 2

word count: 3.5k

warnings: having kids, raising kids, naming kids after lost loved ones, descriptions of growing old, like actually growing old and having grandchildren, descriptions of body changes after birth, dad nanami, no angst in this one just living a happy life with husband nanami :3 (18+ mdni!)

notes: i love u all sm, i am giving this man the ending he deserves. now get ready bc i just went through a terrible breakup and must project it in my writing. much love!!!

part 1 | masterlist

nanami watched you with loving eyes as you laid in your hospital bed, exhausted and sleeping so peacefully after the delivery of your baby. your hair stuck to your face in messy patterns from all the sweat, your chest rose and fell on the perfect, comfortable beat. this time, he was sitting in the chair next to your bed, a book open and ready to be read, but kento’s eyes refused to skim the pages – you looked so beautiful. the room was quiet, only the soft buzzing of an air conditioner and beeping from one of the monitors stuck to you would infiltrate the silence. kento paid close mind whenever you began to stir, lightly fluttering your eyes open to look at him, oh so tired.

“good morning, beautiful,” kento cooed, closing his book to rest it on his thigh. he reached out his hand to lay it atop yours, a soft smile grazing his lips when he looked at you.

“hi,” you groaned, slightly rolling over and wincing when the sharp pain began to shoot through your body. kento’s brows furrowed whenever he saw your discomfort.

“how are you feeling?” he asked.

“tired…it hurts,” you muttered, closing your eyes again. kento’s thumb lightly grazed over the back of your hand, tracing the veins.

kento made sure the nurses that came to check on you administered some pain medicine, and after a while, you began to not be in as much torment as before. you were told you could go home in a day or two, after the pain subsides and the baby is evaluated to be in good health.

kento pushed you down the hallway in a wheelchair towards the nursery, and politely asked to see your baby. you cried so many tears of joy the moment your baby boy was settled in your arms, swaddled in a hospital blanket and sleeping gently. he was so beautiful, a spitting image of his father from the word go. even though he was tiny, and his features weren’t so defined, you could already see the resemblance.

“have you decided on a name yet?” the nurse sweetly asked, clipboard in hand with all your information. you and kento swapped looks for a moment, obviously unprepared for the question. for a minute, you thought in your mind about all the names you discussed, finally landing on one that would be thoughtful and fitting.

“what about ‘yū’ kento?” you suggested, looking up at your husband for his approval.

the gesture of naming his son after his passed best friend made kento a little sad, but he knew haibara would be proud and so happy, so he nodded his head in agreement.

“yes, yū. that’s perfect.”

taking care of such a tiny human came so naturally to kento. he was easily able to balance work on top of making sure the baby was okay. for the first few months, it seemed as if yū would always cry when he was with you, until kento finally would pick him up and settle the baby in his arms. kento had taken an adequate amount of time off from work, working only 3-4 days a week, he made sure you had enough time to rest in between taking care of the baby for days at a time.

after a while, yū began to calm down, reverting into a happy, smiley, giggly baby. you felt more comfortable taking care of him on your own without kento there. so, in return, kento began working even more, picking up his normal 40-hour work week. since you had moved cities, you hadn’t found a stable job yet, but that was okay. because kento wanted to take care of you. he wanted to be the one to take care of his family.

so, you let him. he provided as much as possible for you and your child, all the while ensuring he wasn’t overworking himself in the process. he wanted to live a happy life, after all, he was never going to revert back to the ways of his 24-year-old self; working impossible hours and remaining exhausted 24/7.

since yū had began to grow older, hitting the year-old mark in the blink of an eye, you came to realize that you only took care of him. not that you minded, of course, you loved your baby. but you were less active, and it showed on your body. more and more, you looked in the mirror to find the pregnancy weight still latched on to you, the body you once had just didn’t seem to be there. you knew your husband should be the one to talk about insecurities, sure, but with all the surgeries he went through, and all he did to improve his health; you thought he looked just as ravishing as the day you met him. he did look just as handsome, even with the scars covering half of his body. he was simply a beautiful man.

and you began to feel undeserving. ugly. lesser than the person you were married to. and for what? because of some baby weight? it was natural. so why did you feel so increasingly terrible about yourself as time went on? you worked out, you stayed as healthy as possible; but it was like nothing was going to let you get back to how you looked before the baby.

you were looking in the mirror in your bathroom, a huge one, just like you dreamed of. but the large size of the mirror only gave you more sight into your own reflection. a reflection that filled you with disgust. you frowned at the weird shape and size of your tummy, or at least the shape you thought was weird, and the way your face seemed chubbier, and your thighs had grown in size.

“hey, honey,” kento greeted you, walking around the frame of the bathroom door. his sights were immediately infiltrated with the picture of his gorgeous wife, with her sleep shorts tugged down below her stomach, endearing stretchmarks littering the skin that once carried his beloved son.

you tugged your shorts up quickly and replied to him, “hi, kento.” with a quick turn on your heel and a step forward, you planted a light peck on his lips. he smiled down at you, eyes glittering with the very glimpse of such a beautiful woman.

“what are you doing?” he asked, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you close. you sort of slumped your body against him, resting a head on his shoulder, and you sighed.

“do you think i look…different now?” you couldn’t stop yourself from asking the question, blurting it out as you rested against your husband. he pulled you away and rested his hands on your waist to look you in the eyes.

“what do you mean, hm?” kento’s thumbs grazed up and down your soft skin.

you looked back into the mirror, frowning once more at the silhouette your body created. with a pitiful tone, you began to speak, “my body. ever since i had yū, it’s just been…ugly. i feel ugly.” you described yourself with one of the most hurtful words and caused kento’s eyebrows to furrow as he looked at you.

ugly? how dare his own wife speak about his wife that way. because, in his eyes, you were the most breathtaking individual on the planet. in the universe, actually. sure, he had noticed the changes of your body – the changes that came from you growing a human being inside of you, single-handedly giving him the best gift he’s ever received. if anything, he loved the changes of your body, somehow your skin became even softer to him, contrasting his rough hands perfectly.

“i’m sorry,” you apologized, noticing your husband’s glare once you looked back up at him. he shook his head.

“don’t apologize, i understand.” kento comforted you, bringing a sweet hand up to your cheek to pull you in for a soft kiss. once he pulled back, he ran a thumb over your cheek, “do you want to know what i think, sweetheart?”

brows furrowing, you looked up at him with a confused expression, “think about wh-,” he cut you off with another kiss to the lips. he skimmed his lips over different parts of your face, planting light pecks over all the skin.

“i think,” kento’s lips trailed down your neck slowly, then to each off your shoulders, beginning down one of your arms. “i have,” his kisses didn’t waver as he made his way down your arm, giving a firm kiss to the back of your hand as he held it, kneeling down. “the most,” he smiled up at you before focusing on your tummy, kissing the shirt that laid atop your soft skin, trailing all over your abdomen.

“beautiful wife in the world.”

you giggled at his gesture, the laugh soon faltering because kento’s stare on you was full of complete seriousness. the things that kento thought were always fact, never fiction, you should’ve known that. so yes, what he said was true. it would always be true in his eyes, too. always.

with all the intimacy conjured in the bathroom, that was the night you got pregnant with your second child, a daughter named mayu.

parenthood came with its own highs and lows as your children grew. your daughter loved her father til’ the earths end, always opting to stay under his arm whenever he was home. mayu had taken more of your looks this time, not quite the spitting image like yū was to your husband, but enough to tell that you were her mother. she was full of energy and happiness and took on a sassy personality from a young age. yū, however, was very emotional and laidback compared to his sister. it was quite funny how much their personalities showed, even when they were unable to talk. but as they began to grow up and adopt certain mannerisms, their personalities began to bloom even more.

as kento got older, he had gained just a tiny amount of weight, filling out his muscular form even more. his abs slowly faded with time, turning into a less-defined version of themselves. and your favorite part about kento growing older was his hair. once your children reached 3 and 5, kento had reached a good 35, turning 36 soon, little grey pieces began to pepper themselves into his hairline, shining brightly in between the blonde strands. he began to have small crow’s feet in the outsides of his eyes, and smile lines from the amount of smiling he did with you.

on yū’s first day of school, kento had to hold you as you sniffled back tears, watching your oldest boy walk through the front doors of the school. he held his arm around your shoulders and waved his son off, shushing you and saying he will only be gone until 3 p.m. little did you know, kento had to hold back his own tears, because in that moment he felt so accomplished as a father, even though that was only the beginning of yū’s journey.

not to worry, though, because on mayu’s first day – your husband cried like a baby seeing his daughter walk off into school, nervous for the first time in her life.

the first few years of your children’s school life were smooth sailing. yū and mayu alike made many friends and looked at school in a positive light. you and kento never got tired of their endless stories – about a game they played or a lesson they learned or a book they read. every little art project and 100 on a test decorated the fridge. kento made sure to teach them both about the importance of schooling and how to remain at the top of their class, along with balancing the increasing schoolwork the older they got.

it wasn’t until yū hit middle school that things began to go downhill.

neither you nor kento thought that your children would be able to see curses. only one of you was a sorcerer, and kento was the only one in his family that was able to be a sorcerer, too. but when kento took him to a bakery, yū saw the same creature as his father crawling around on the floor, eliciting an ear-shattering scream – kento felt doomed.

“what do you think we should do?” you questioned, leaning against the counter as your husband sat at the kitchen table, lips pursed beneath intertwined fingers pressed on the lower half of his face.

“i do not want him to be a sorcerer,” kento stated, a stern tone in his voice, “but he…he’s…i don’t know if we can stop it.” your husband sounded defeated at the statement.

he could only ask himself why this had to happen to him of all people; someone that had run away from jujutsu twice now. you and kento both decided to wait until your children were older to explain it all, and where all their uncles and aunts and family friends came from, but at the time, it all seemed inevitable but to give some sort of explanation.

so, of course, he called one of the people he trusted – and now respected – the most.

“nanami!” gojo squealed as soon as the front door was opened, revealing the still tall and lanky satoru. kento seemed to still be annoyed by his presence, yet inside he was thankful for his friend to show up on such short notice. gojo had been around your children some, obviously, but you and kento tried to keep your distance because of how dangerous it all was.

after giving satoru the rundown of the past days’ events, you sent mayu off to a friend’s house and sat yū in the living area with all the adults. until that point, he had no explanation as to what he saw in the bakery. but with ease, just as everything was with gojo, he gave yū the clarification needed to understand he had a special gift, and to use it wisely. kento made up his mind as to not scare your son by telling him about how he got all those scars, saving that for a later date. yū still didn’t understand everything entirely, but ended up having some sort of grasp on his abilities. that was all that was needed.

you and kento collectively decided it would be yū’s choice when he was old enough to decide to become a sorcerer, with the help of gojo, of course.

fortunately, or unfortunately, for mayu, she would end up not having the same abilities as her father. it was sort of a blessing, only having to worry about one kid being raised to fight the second they turned 14.

the years spent waiting for yū to become old enough to decide about jujutsu felt like a ticking time bomb for you and kento. many, many nights were spent in the kitchen, talking endlessly about your concerns but also the upsides to having your son learn under one of kento’s most trusted partners. but the both of you became more honest with your son about the reality of going into jujutsu, the pros and cons of becoming a sorcerer, and how it could both positively and negatively affect his life.

ultimately, though, kento was the most relieved he’d ever been when your son gave his answer about becoming a sorcerer, a few days away from the end of middle school.

“uh, no, dad. it sounds way too dangerous. i want to go to college.” yū’s words came off as that of a normal, moody teenager, but in the end made a weight lift off you and your husband’s shoulders.

they say time flies when you’re having fun, and that was the truest of statements when it came to raising your children with kento. yū’s high school years approached quickly, mayu’s seemingly approached even faster, it was all a rush of images that remained in your head. the sports teams, never missing a thursday night game to cheer on your son from the stands, as he led his soccer team to the regional levels. the first time yū brought a girl home, with you and kento seemingly even more nervous to meet the sweet young lady that attached herself to your son’s arm. prom was so much fun, seeing your husband knot the same printed tie around his son’s neck that he wore in his sorcerer days, before taking a thousand photos of yū and his girlfriend. your son had the most elated, idiotic smile on his face once he opened the door to find his girlfriend dressed to the nines in a stunning dress, the same smile on his face when he came home after a fun night with his friends. and of course, graduation topped it all off, yū standing at the top of his class just like his father. both you and kento had to stifle back tears watching him walk across the stage.

mayu’s high school days were a flash as well, a very fond memory looking back. she remained with the same snappy and sassy personality, just as when she was little. mayu remained close with her father, but began to talk to you as she got older, needing advice for any decision she made. it made you feel like a proud mother, someone she wasn’t embarrassed of because even through her mood swings and bad days, she always found refuge in you. mayu became the student council president by her second year, running every school event like a ship, making sure to always get extra t-shirts for you and kento because you would always show up. while yū was away at college, mayu became your focus as you let your son navigate his way through life.

kento thought he was going to have a heart attack the second his beloved daughter said she had a boyfriend she wanted the both of you to meet. the night that boy rolled up in his car, knocking on the door frantically, kento put on a stern and serious face as he was the one to open the door. mayu came running up behind kento, to no avail, as her boyfriend was already bowing and then shaking your husband’s hand. he politely introduced himself, practically shaking with how intimidated he was by your husband. but the night went on smoothly, you had dinner together and found out more about mayu’s boyfriend and his aspirations. at the end of the night, after he had left and mayu went to bed, kento said he was an, “alright young man,” which was the biggest compliment if you were going to date his daughter.

mayu’s graduation was the time for kento to sob again, seeing his daughter get so much recognition for all she did for the school, feeling like the proudest dad of two children. yū had driven into town, sitting next to you and kento in the stands, a bouquet of flowers for his sister. mayu moved into her dorm only a few weeks later, leaving you and kento in an empty house, riddled with the memories of raising two beautiful, accomplished, important and thriving children.

it all went by too fast.

after your birds had successfully left the nest, you and kento spent all your time together once again. the days would mix up as he began to work less and less to prepare for his retirement. time flew by, aging you and your husband both, the wrinkles becoming delicately pronounced each year, the grey hairs eventually taking over all the blonde in his head. you spent your time reading, baking, and most of all, traveling as soon as kento’s last day at work hit.

you flew all around the world, visiting the most gorgeous and diverse cities alike, emerging yourselves in all the different cultures, practices, and kento’s favorite part – the food. you visited malaysia with him again, just as you did on your honeymoon, the love you felt all those years ago still present within you both. you walked along the beaches and toured all the spots you favorited on your honeymoon again.

your life with kento nanami was beautiful.

you lay in bed with your husband at your side, his peaceful yet loud snores endearing as he sleeps so soundly. tomorrow, your 25th wedding anniversary will be here. you’ll walk out on the porch of the beautiful condo kento bought after retirement with a cup of coffee for him. you’ll read a book as your husband basks in the view of the beach he longed for all his life. your children and their spouses will drive in around afternoon, and spend the weekend with you both, letting you get time in with yū’s new baby, your grandchild. you will mingle, laugh, maybe cry and reminisce in all the memories you and your husband built up over the course of decades. your house will be loud with the sounds of kids and family and friends, all there to celebrate the life you’ve had with your husband.

even if kento were to die the next day, or in a year, or in 10 years, something would always remain true.

kento nanami had successfully spent his life with his true love.

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