feeling extra sad for our mother earth today. we need to come together and start looking after her before it’s really, truly too late.
Jules of Nature

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pixel skylines

tannertan36
DEAR READER
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Love Begins
wallacepolsom
Cosmic Funnies
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Today's Document
noise dept.
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
occasionally subtle

Kiana Khansmith
Mike Driver
we're not kids anymore.

oozey mess
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@fallingvines
feeling extra sad for our mother earth today. we need to come together and start looking after her before it’s really, truly too late.
𓂃✍︎ happy birthday, nanami
Nanami doesn't really celebrate his birthday. He never truly gave you a reason why, though you didn't push it either. For someone such as himself who hides nothing from you, perhaps there really isn't any significant reason necessary for him to let you know why he doesn't celebrate it.
However, that doesn't stop you from doing exactly the opposite of what he's used to.
You've planned it all. Colorful streams decorating every corner of the room, balloons inflated and placed up on the ceiling or down on the floor. You made sure there's an equal balance of them everywhere, at the same time there is a pathway for him to walk onto.
The cake is all lit up with one candle placed in the middle. It's simple, just the way he prefers it. Nothing too extravagant, like how Gojō suggested a year ago.
"I mean, he's got to go out with a bang on his birthday," Gojō said once. "Unless that bang is different from the bang I'm thinking about."
"S-Shut up!" You remembered yourself screaming, covering your face because you knew how red you turned out.
"This is why you're never going to be invited again," Nanami grumbled, turning you away from that horrid man.
"Nanamin! Wait!" You heard Gojō's cry falling on deaf ears as Nanami motioned for you to get in the car.
"Something simple is all I want," Nanami said honestly, driving farther and farther away from the source of his irritation. "Just you and me. That's more than enough."
So a year later, you did exactly that — just for Nanami. Simple decorations, not too much that it would cause an eyesore. One cake, meant for three people max. A candle meant to be blown out by one man.
Yeah, he would definitely love this.
"Happy birthday, Kento." You whisper with a smile.
Except, Nanami isn't here anymore.
© ohfreshlinen — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, or plagiarize my content.
happy birthday to the one and only
cake and candles!! haha….
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ husband!nanami and the attractive things he does pt. 3
tags. established relationship. married life. domestic bliss. gentle love. fluff. pet names (honey). soft!nanami. no angst. ⋮ author's note. another shorter one woo!! the heatwave is genuinely taking me out so i've not been in the mood to write or do anything else at all pffft hence why this is only 500 words and not a thousand ⋮ word count. 0.5k
Husband!Nanami who time and time again places a rough, warm hand on your lower back, the heat pooling through the silky dress you're wearing, arching into him the slightest bit, whilst he presses closer to you to avoid bumping into anyone else in this unnecessarily crowded place.
When you look up at him, if it’s to ask or say something, it’s all the same, because he always bends down a bit, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers his response. When he's done speaking, he’ll press a brief kiss to your cheek, perhaps your jaw, and then he’ll pull back, seemingly unaware of the effect he has on you.
Husband!Nanami who is pleasantly aware that he's got some centimetres on you, even if you're above the average height for women. So, without having to ask, or not even having to utter a single word about it once throughout your long-lasting marriage, he always slows down while walking.
It's ridiculously silly, you seem to think now and then, but it’s enough to make your heart feel warm nonetheless.
Taking a walk in the park? His fingers are entwined with yours, and his long legs seem to stop going at their fast pace so that he can keep up with you. It’s you glancing up at him that does it for Kento—cheeks flushed, pupils slightly dilated, the softest of smiles plastered on your face—and he can't help but allow his lips to tug up into a gentle smile. Oh, how nice it feels to hold the entire world in his hands.
Husband!Nanami whose tone softens when speaking to you. Usually a bit bored and calm, showcasing his practical and beyond professional demeanour, but when he turns to you—lips parting, a gentle hum, tone turning reassuring in every way possible, soothing and serene—he melts.
Husband!Nanami who comes home from a long day at work, the front door closing behind him (a little louder than usual, the lock clicking within the span of a second), and his sleek black shoes being left in the entryway whilst he makes his way to the kitchen.
He doesn't waste a second to squeeze his front against your back, hands pressing against either your love handles or soft belly, tugging you impossibly close. It’s only sooner or later that he drops his head in the crook of your neck, presses a kiss to the skin there and finally allows his shoulders to drop while an exhausted sigh escapes his lips.
Husband!Nanami who always looks back at you. It doesn't matter if it’s because he's leaving for work in the morning, before you close the front door behind him, he’ll glance back over his shoulder, his lips stretching into the tiniest of smiles.
Sometimes his hazel eyes will soften immensely, other times he’ll mouth the words ‘see you later, honey’. But one thing he doesn't need to mouth, or say out loud, is that he loves you more than life itself, for he proves it every day.
© loreshonour — don't repost, translate, or copy any of my works.
pink pngs ꕀ resourced from pinterest, do not credit me, enjoy ♡
⤷ dm for credits/removal.
do u have any CD frames... Both actual CD frames and cds that are frames. does that make sense. I wanna put a cool picture on a CD. Thank u!!
-🕐🐺
hi there 🕐🐺 anon!! I hope one of these work for u!!!
last two are taken apart in case that makes it easier to put a picture on it!!
FREE TO USE DO NOT CREDIT LIKES & REBLOGS APPERICATED!!!
Sukuna is willing to forgive a lot. putting petrol in his diesel jeep is not one of those things
The afternoon sun is setting over the skyline, glinting off the impeccably clean black hood of Sukuna’s diesel Jeep. He obsesses over the deep-throated rumble of its engine, monitors every minuscule rattle, documents every oil change, and lately has meticulously tracked every terrifying spike in fuel prices. To neglect this machine is to sign your own death warrant.
You know this, of course, and you know exactly how to weaponize it. You have been using the Jeep all day for errands, and now you decide to play the perfect, attentive wife and top off the tank. But in reality, being the perfect wife is just a veneer for a much, much more entertaining agenda.
You hang up the nozzle and see a satisfyingly high number on the digital display that Sukuna would normally scoff at. You finish the transaction, dial his number, and lean back against the driver’s side door with a satisfied grin.
When he picks up, his voice is a low rumble, and you can hear the faint gunfire of his game in the background. "Hey, angel. You done with the errands?"
“Almost!” you chirp with a sickeningly sweet, bubbly, and utterly misplaced sense of pride. “I’m just at the gas station. I wanted to be a good girl and fill up the tank for you since I was using it all day.”
✴︎ the 24 diner ✴︎
⁂ i. the regular (pt 1 of ?)
bruce wayne x gn reader fluff contains: swearing wc: ~1.3k ⁂ series masterlist
desc: you totally weren't counting the days until your favorite regular, bruce wayne, came back. you were.
a diner that smells of fryer grease and coffee is an unlikely place to spot a billionaire, but bruce wayne is a regular. he shows up around the same ungodly hour, sits down at the end stool closest to the door, and orders the same thing every time. when he's done, he slips you a fifty for his fifteen-dollar meal accompanied with a polite "keep the change." over the course of the past few months, there's been a silent agreement between you and your coworker that he's your regular, and she has no qualms. you have his order committed to memory and a slice of pie packed up to-go for his youngest son in the fridge.
except he hasn't shown up in the past two weeks. he's probably busy with rich people stuff, you reason, though the empty stool leaves you feeling strangely disappointed.
round patties sizzle on the grill and oil bubbles in the fryer as you absently drum your fingers against the cold metal counters. it's a slow night with a sparse trickle of customers—the kind of shift that swings between brief bursts of chaos and long, boring stretches of nothing at all. you turn your attention to a headline flashing across the old tv hanging in the corner followed by grainy footage of a fight.
warning: blue line closed until further notice. killer croc apprehended by batman.
the purple line is still down after it got joker-gassed last week and now this? you roll your eyes—can't have shit in gotham.
co-worker kento hc! O///O
a/n: das my shi right there
more kento: here!
masterlist: here!
coworker!kento who always goes on coffee runs with you!
it started off innocent enough, you were a new hire who needed to be taught the ropes of the corporate world. and there was no one better suited for the job than quick, efficient, and considerate nanami kento?
on the first day he gave you office intel he had collected over the years of working with the same people. he helped you match names to faces and who ordered what.
on the second day he came as “supervision” just to make sure you truly learned everything he taught you.,
from that day on, no matter rain or shine, or a dangerously close deadline kento was there in the line of the local coffee shop with you.
coworker!kento who hates overtime but endures it for you.
its not a one time occurrence, whenever you mention having to stay late or complain about sleep deprivation kento always said the same words.
“ill stay with you tonight then, for professional company and safety.”
coworker!kento who blushes whenever your hands touch..
despite his perfect exterior, kento nanami is still a man, and with that he had ulterior motives. each coffee run, lunch date, willful nights of overtime, and hours of close proximity kento endured everything to feel your skin against his.
he yearned for the touch of your soft hands against his calloused ones, how your skin left a lingering scent of whatever handsoap was in your bathroom. his fingers lingered longer than what HR deemed appropriate and he always touched his face after your hands mingled secretly sniffing in your scent. each time he got that familiar yet excited whiff his face became a soft pink.
coworker!kento who behaves like a cat.
kento was a cat at heart, he was moody, selective in affection and company, and most importantly compliant to only one person..
wherever you were he was always close behind, watching silently from across the room.
he brought you small gifts like a cat bringing its owner dead mice and birds as a sign of its devotion.. sometimes it was blind boxes, other times it was baked goods, or supplies you had run out of that you had only mentioned in passing.
coworker!kento who moved his cubicle to be next to yours!
there’s not much to say, one day you walked into the office to see his lunch box, computer, and neck pillow all set up next to yours..
coworker!kento who gets too shy to talk to you in person..
kento isnt a man of many words.. well at least not in public. when the two of you spent time together he was quite talkative but at work he was afraid to break his persona of the “stoic” worker man in the office..
when he gets that nervous feeling which was more often than not.. he would type up emails for you! when people saw him rapidly typing at his screen it was easy to assume he was working not trying to find the right words to ask you to grab lunch together!
coworker!kento who likes to play footsies..
its uncharacteristic, but everyone has guilty pleasures and kentos was playing footsies! it was a simple way to express his affection without having to full on say it.
each time he initiates he taps your right foot three times with his own waiting for you to tap back. he cant stop the smile that grows on his lips when he feels your feet kicking against his. his shoes scuffing from your heels and the friction of the floor though he didn’t mind, as long as your foot was near his.
coworker!kento who often takes over your work so you can relax.
kento was a stubborn man especially when it came to you, he insisted on helping with projects, emails, and files that were due soon even if he had his own deadlines to meet.. he always said the same lines:
“i can handle it, you said you didn’t sleep well, take this opportunity to get some rest. that way your work will be up to standard.”
coworker!kento who is flattered to be called your work husband, and hopes to be more.. once he figures out how to ask without his gmail.
school dad — nanami kento.
imagining former volleyball star turned househusband nanami kento in this predicament with you, his beautiful, intelligent history professor of a wife, in your workplace. well, specifically in your classrooms.
the problem had started months ago, at least it wasn't something that kento had any intentions of steering up. but when it comes to how things were with your students, even the intentions he had, or they had, become something that is intentional.
it felt like they knew him like he was always there.
well, he was....he brings you your lunch every day.
but it was the fact that you were so warmly thinking of him.
of course, the kids will get to know him quite a fair bit.
at first, it had simply been stories. it wasn't much, but when you mention these small things about him in passing, all the while waiting for everyone to settle themselves down from topic to topic, they become more engaged in the husband they see during lunch time.
but there would be times where you would go and pause in the middle of the lecture, or even at the end of the lecture to give your students a moment to take a break, and you speak of your husband.
"my husband made too much food again, so please take some before i leave." you say to your freshman class as you take out multiple tupperwares from your lunch bag, with a nonchalant look on your face. "bring your lunch containers and get some."
"my husband says half of you need to sleep more." you smile as the seniors look at each other and then at you as you take out bags of camomille tea. "my husband made this himself. he said you should drink these after exams, so you'll relax."
"my husband packed my lunch this morning and forgot that i hate tomatoes." you frowned as you faced your sophomore class. you sighed. "oh well, i know it's still going to be delicious. he brought some hot cocoa too....if anyone wants hot cocoa, bring your cup!"
over time, your students learned more than they probably should have. they learned that after retiring from professional volleyball, the six feet tall legend named nanami kento had happily embraced domestic life as a househusband while his wife continued her career.
you spoke so often, more than you thought. the younglings learned that he did most of the cooking because he genuinely enjoyed making cute character lunches for you, based on what your favorite anime or hisotrical person is at the time.
they learned he woke up before you every morning to make coffee and that he learned how to make freshly brewed coffee with his former teammate ryomen sukuna, who himself learned for his wife.
they learned he folded laundry with a level of precision that bordered on concerning, to the point that you never truly have any space wasted and sometimes, you have too much excessive space in your dresser.
they learned he has a household spreedsheet, in mutliple colors and folders, from the household budget, to the snack budget, he knows the finances inside and out. and of course, always makes budget for spoiling you. and that was, in your words, limitless.
yet what they learnt best is that your husband loved you. he loved you since you were both young, when life was nothing but a jungle to figure out. through the roar of your youth, to the dawn of your life, he has loved you and he still does love you. perhaps he always will.
to say that your students were jealous is an understatement. because you were so lucky. there was simply no other way to describe it. they had never met a married couple quite like the two of you, not even majority of their parents.
it wasn't because kento had once been a volleyball superstar. admittedly, that had earned him a fair amount of attention in the beginning. some of your students had gone home only to realize, after furiously searching the internet, that the quiet man who dropped off your lunch had once played in packed arenas before thousands of screaming fans.
the realization had spread through the department like wildfire.
"professor [last name]."
you looked up and smiled. "yes, kensei? what do you need?"
"why have you never mentioned your husband is that nanami kento?"
you had blinked. "because he's just...my husband."
the entire lecture hall had fallen silent. they could not believe that you had that. nanami kento was and still is the biggest deal in the sport even after he's gone and retired. he was notorious as a blocker and for the techniques he developed in each and every jump.
he was called the strident wall of japan for a reason.
yet, to you, he wasn't anyone else but your husband.
people just didn't know how to process that fact.
one student had slowly raised a hand. "respectfully, professor...that's like saying the moon is just a rock."
another nodded. "or saying the pyramids are just triangles."
you had laughed so hard you'd needed to set your marker down. "well, it's just the truth for me, you know? he was my friend then he was my boyfriend." you had managed between giggles. "and now he is just my husband."
your students never recovered from that revelation of perspective. but after the novelty wore off, after the excitement of discovering that your husband had once been famous had settled, they realized something far more interesting.
nanami kento wasn't remarkable because he'd been an athlete. he was remarkable because he adored you with an almost embarrassing level of devotion. it came so naturally to him that he didn't even seem aware he was doing it.
your students noticed.
of course they noticed.
one week, every rice ball had tiny cat ears in your already well made chara-bento, because you'd been so moved after rewatching an old anime. and so your husband graciously added a snack for you to munch on.
another week, he'd somehow recreated the roman colosseum entirely out of rice, seaweed, and slices of egg because you'd spent the previous month lecturing about the roman empire with what your students lovingly referred to as "concerning enthusiasm" when you took on a substitution class.
"he made me julius caesar today!" you'd said absentmindedly while opening your lunch, grinning. "looks yummy!"
the classroom had gone quiet, with one student mouth agape, said "...what?"
you'd turned the lid around and nestled carefully inside was an adorable rice ball with a tiny laurel wreath made of parsley. beneath it, written in seaweed letters, your husband neatly put: et tu, eat too.
you'd burst into laughter the second you'd read it. "oh, it's so good. he's too good at this."
your students, meanwhile, simply stared. "...professor."
"yes?"
"is your husband... funny?"
you'd looked genuinely confused. "of course he is."
"we didn't think he was capable."
"he makes puns constantly."
"...that man?" they remember a different man from the court during matches. the one who nearly pummeled megumi fushiguro hard when he did a block in the national league. "how...."
"the other day, he made me napoleon pancakes once."
"..." they were just looking at you, too stunned to speak.
"they were stacked very short."
there had been complete silence. until one student quietly muttered, "...that's kind of romantic."
"that's what i'm saying!" you'd replied happily.
your students exchanged glances once again and slowly opened their lunches as you eat yours happily, going on your phone, texting your husband and sending pictures to him.
perhaps.....perhaps they had underestimated professor mom's husband. it became increasingly difficult not to notice him. not when he's such a devoted husband to you.
every day, almost without fail, sometime around noon, there would be a polite knock against the lecture hall door, just like the first time. it was never loud enough to interrupt and never impatient. still, it was just enough for you to hear and when you open the door, they found that you'd always brighten immediately.
"come in."
the door would slide open just enough for kento to step inside. he never lingered enough to interrupt your lectures, especially since your classes happen during regular lunch hours too.
your devoted husband would simply walk over with your lunch bag in one hand and your favorite insulated tumbler in the other. they would over hear your little conversations, its warm visuals hidden by the drafty covers of the door.
"you forgot your tea. it's a good thing its still warm."
your voice went high pitched, almost relieved. "did i? that's why i couldn't find it in my bag!"
"you also forgot your charger." your husbad seems to remind you. "i know you're not going to be home till late tonight."
"...did i?" you were more uncertain this time. "oh, how can i be such a klutz!"
he seems to laugh lightly, the small creak in the door making them see an extended arm. they lean forward and gasp. he was patting your head, reassuring you tenderly. the atmosphere in the room palpitating in the feeling of your warm hearted love. before long, they saw that he'd hand both over. then a small pause.
"...how long have you been standing here, for your lectures?" her husband whispered to her but it was audible enough to hear.
"......more than a half an two hours." you found yourself answering, carefully.
your students would watch, fascinated. he sees nanami kento pull you close and say. "take five minutes."
"kento, my dear—"
"sit. they gave you a table for a reason. i told you to request it for a reason." he softly tells you as he all but comes in and helps you sit down. "okay, sit here. let me massage your feet."
your eyes widened, round cheeks turn cherry red. "kento, not here—"
he lifts his head, not minding the kids who was watching them. "remove your shoes, i can see your legs shaking. let me make it feel better before i go, okay?"
you lowered your head and resigned yourself to your fate. "...yes, dear."
without fail, you'd obediently sit down and remove your shoes carefully. the students didn't seem to know what to do. some turned around, the feeling of a married couple being this caring for each other felt too much. the other seemed to just not know what to do.
but one thing's for sure and that is, every single time, you folded to your tall, gorgeous and caring househusband. whatever the situation, you let him have his way, especially when it is him taking care of you.
your students found this hilarious. their professor, who regularly intimidated department heads during faculty meetings and had once reduced a guest lecturer to silence during an academic debate, became astonishingly obedient the moment her husband gently told her to rest.
one afternoon, after nanami kento had left, a brave sophomore finally asked what everyone had been thinking. "professor..."
"hm? is there a question on the storming of the siege of inabayama castle, ibuki?"
"...does he always win your arguments?"
you'd looked up from your lunch. "oh, no. well....does it really depend?" the class collectively relaxed as you leaned back and tried to think on it really well. "...i usually lose before they become arguments half the time. not because im not a good debator, he's just way more logical than i am."
"but you're the head coach of the debate team!" another student way in the back yells. "you make people cry in the training!"
"they're not my husband, though." you laugh softly. "he's way more good at knowing how to take me down....and of course, he tends to be right. which is very annoying at times. but that's marriage!"
the room dissolved into laughter. "okay, anyone else have questions?"
another student raised her hand. "i do!"
"what is it, suzuka?"
"so...if he tells you to sleep..."
"i sleep."
"drink water?"
"i drink water."
"stop grading papers at three in the morning?"
"..." the students look confused with your silence. "okay, here's the thing...."
"professor?"
"...he confiscates my laptop." you admitted to them, rubbing the back of your head. "even back then, he tells me to go to sleep a lot. it got to a point he almost broke up with me about it. but you know....now we're okay! i sleep well and good."
the lecture hall erupted.
"he confiscates it?"
"he changes the password, then tells me the next morning. but its not even a different password." you pout. "it's always the anniversary of our first date."
"your own husband locks you out of the computer?"
"he says i'm 'grounded from academia' and that he would like to embrace me in his arms! i appreciate that and all, but i get delayed with checking. so he always gets forced to do the work!" you say enthusiastically, with a thumbs up. "get a husband to your work!"
the laughter only became louder at your work. "but in my defense, i once stayed awake for seventy-two hours straight writing the baseline of my journal article cause i said to myself one sitting can make it happen."
"that's not a defense, professor." one of your students said.
"that's exactly why he changes your password." another seemed to agree. "even if its just the same one, it makes sense!"
"i mean, it doesn't really make sense when he's just doing the same password." you laugh. "any case, it's fun. i do the same to his. it takes him a while, though!"
your students had collectively decided that nanami kento was, perhaps, the only human being alive capable of successfully managing you. it was around then that they started calling him your keeper. and you heartily agreed with them. if there was no nanami kento keeping you well and good, then you would not be able to do your job well like this.
that lasted all for some time, this feverish fervor for you and your husband and what your marriage is and how its been a support to your teaching and your academia. however, somthing someone says and it sticks. one of your students accidentally said:
"professor mom's husband." they said and that had made you blink.
"what?"
then another seemed to want to create a chain. "but that doesn't include his title as househusband....how about....professor mom's househusband?"
"bah! too long! try something else." another student chimed in.
"dad." the student in the front said, raising their hand. "dad seems good."
there was crickets. the student turned flustered. you couldn't say a word, because you didn't know what to say. you didn't think such a couple like you two just sharing your mundane life would mean this much to your students.
for a while, none of you acknowledged it the first time. or the second. or even the tenth. because surely, if everyone ignored it, it would disappear on its own. but even when you want something to disappear, it doesn't often work that way.
so if anything, this situation you had right now was something you couldn't ignore. it was such a snowball effect. there was one time you finally had a decent hour to have lunch and he stayed with you, talking in the mini-forest section in the school courtyard.
before long, there was a lone and bold student, completely without shame, waved at kento across campus one afternoon. you looked at him with a stunned look as your husband just seemed confused. especially after what he says.
"hi, dad! hi mom!"
kento stopped and turned to you. then slowly, he looked over his shoulder. there was genuine confusion on his face. you lowered your head blushing as multiple people started to look at the two of you, and the student.
"oh god...."
"...were you speaking to me?"
the student smiled brightly. "yeah!"
"...i'm fairly certain i'm not your father."
"biologically? no. i would know, haha!"
"..." you didn't know what to say. "kid—"
"emotionally? debatable." the student just continued.
your husband blinked. "...i'm going to pretend i didn't hear that." kento stood up and said, "i'm going to pee."
you nodded at your husband. the student turned to you. "he didn't say no."
you pinched the bridge of your nose. "he literally did."
"not convincingly, he didn't. you didn't too!"
"i'm not your mother—"
"hmmm, not by blood, but definitely right now, that's the vibe!"
unfortunately, the title caught on. your freshmen called him dad because the sophomores did. the sophomores called him dad because the juniors did. the juniors insisted they'd inherited the tradition from the seniors. the seniors claimed they'd simply accepted what everyone else already knew.
no one could actually identify who had started it. by then, it no longer mattered. nanami kento, despite denying it every single time, somehow ended up greeting your students whenever he visited campus.
he remembered names. and then he would ask about their exams, their mental health, if they were doing well and if they needed someone to talk to. your husband made sure that in those little ways, he could be there for them, the way he was with you. after all, the kids mean the world to you.
there was one time he had made enough cookies for entire class batch you held because, according to him, "there's no point baking only enough for one and besides....they all did a good job in exams."
he even attended one of the department festivals because you'd asked him to help carry boxes. your students had practically swarmed him. he spent three hours helping set up booths, carrying tables, repairing a broken banner, and somehow ended up manning the drink stall because everyone unanimously agreed he looked trustworthy enough to handle the cash box.
by the end of the festival, he'd received three handmade thank-you cards from your students. some of them had given him knitted trinkets, a lot of them gave him keychains. someone was insane to make him one potted succulent.
but most of all, someone was insane enough to send him an invitation to your class group chat, sending the class photo with you and your husband as the first message. with the same polite bewilderment, and somewhat more attuned enthusiasm, your husband nodded and pressed accept.
"...why are they giving me gifts?" he'd asked you on the drive home.
you'd smiled into the passenger window. "because they like you."
"...i only carried tables."
"you smiled at them."
"...isn't that something that normal people would do?"
"...but you're the dad to them, you know? sometimes even when its just a small thign, it was enough to make them feel good about being cared for by someone." you smiled brightly at him. "it's the same thing you do for me, when you love me each and everyday, kento."
kento had been quiet for a long while after that. he still didn't quite understand why your students had grown so attached to him. you did. they saw what you saw every day, they saw how you were so loved by him.
a gentle man who had once stood beneath stadium lights with thousands chanting his name, now standing quietly in your kitchen every morning, humming to himself while packing your lunch.
a man who had traded medals for measuring cups without a single regret. who loved you so openly that everyone around him felt warmer simply witnessing it. perhaps...it was inevitable that your students would come to love him, too.
you see him putting his glasses aside as he wiped his eyes. "goddamn it...."
you start to laugh. "dear, are you crying?"
"no, im not crying!"
"aww, your kids love you, dear."
"i know, i know.....ugh, i didn't know being a parent was so emotional."
you smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "i know. but you do so well with it. happy father's day, dad. i love you."
he looks at you and sighed, almost too contently. eyes shining as he gazed at you. "love you more."
feels like ill break my finger one day tryna scroll through all the memes on any "x reader" tag just to get to the fics underneath
𝒪FFICE SERIES — PROLOGUE : 𝐇.𝐇
In which Hiromi Higuruma finds a new motive to keep working at the law office he oh so hates: the lovely new secretary.
fluff, hopelessly in love, slice of life romance
Some days are so draining that they kill your will to do anything, and if they become a recurring pattern, they kill your passion for that thing. That's what happened to Hiromi Higuruma, don't get me wrong, he wanted to go to law school, he really admired the work, until he ended up stuck in a law office full of criminals in suits pretending they cared about their clients instead of their wallets.
The days seemed like a repetitive and monotonous torture; he would arrive at the office, meet with clients, analyze cases, rack his brains over a pittance, and then return home, exhausted to his bones, god knows what time. Honestly, he was disgusted by his coworkers, hated judgmental courts and corrupt people, and hated that most of his peers extorted money from people who had nothing.
On some days, in the silence of his office, — surrounded by disorganized papers containing the most precious information for some people, his finished cigarettes and a cold coffee — he thought about how it would be if he simply resigned from that place. It would be peaceful, God willing, but it would also end all the stability he had fought to have over the years. He always ended up sighing and gathering his things to go back home.
And then, on any given day, Hiromi arrived at the office as usual, stopping at the reception desk and greeting the only people he didn't completely hate, showing his credentials and going upstairs, straight to his own private office room. Although it was a special day, a splash of color amidst the daily grayness that permeated his life: an angel smiled at him, taking his name tag and nodding; he had never seen her there before, bright eyes that scanned his ID as if she'd done it many times before, smiling at him as if he were someone important, and then returning to her work as if nothing had happened.
You could say that the guy with the ink-colored hair had that image on his mind all day; you were his motivation to finish the day and clock out just to see your lovely face again. And then when he saw it, he felt like a very greedy man, the same type he criticized, but not out of hunger for money though, not like his co-workers were, but rather out of a desire to see you again the next day.
Not that he went unnoticed by you either; something about the way he carried himself, even the almost melancholic weariness he exuded, intrigued you and made you want to know more. That's why, as soon as he left the office lobby, you turned to your colleagues, wanting to know a little more than just Hiromi Higuruma's name.
a/n: hello hello !! I know I took a little while to reveal this prologue, but now as promised we have both of our lovelies office workers here & I hope you all enjoy this small series of slice of life writing. If you have any suggestions, feel free to share with me, I would love it
Requests, comments, likes & reblogs are very much appreciated, thank you for reading. ♡
did i post higuruma here???
Rihanna in 2006⋆ ˚。⋆ ♡˚