112 Days Nanamiless.

dr odyssey truly is a show with nothing but a throuple, a gimmick, and a dream

most important part of the writing process actually is when you loop a single song on max volume and stare at the word document and imagine the characters doing things for 14 hours. this is known as getting in the zone

I would like to tell you that I am from Gaza, where we are now living under bombs, explosives, warplanes that we cannot sleep from for many nights, and other things. This war has destroyed our bodies, our lives, and our souls. It has destroyed our homes, robbed us of everything, destroyed all places, changed all landmarks, and changed our situation for the worse. We were living a decent life, peace, and love of life, and here we are living in hunger, fear, and terror, me, my children, and the rest of my family, and we do not have the minimum necessities of life, and we live in very dilapidated tents. We do not know how to act when winter comes to us. We will drown in the rain and wind, and I will not know how to protect my family, neither from the bombing nor from the winter.

So please help me so that I and my family can live and survive this ugly war

🚨 We Need Your Kindness to Survive 🚨

Hello, My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become harder than I ever imagined, and I’m writing this with hope in my heart that you might hear our story.

The ongoing war has devastated my family. We’ve lost 25 family members—each one a beloved part of our lives, taken too soon. I miss them deeply—their laughter, their presence, their love. Every day is a reminder of this unimaginable loss.

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We are now facing daily challenges to survive—things that most people take for granted, like food, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. The harsh realities of life here have replaced our dreams with the constant fight for survival.

Our Current Situation:

💔 Lost Stability: The war has left us without work or a stable source of income. 🍞 Basic Needs: Food and water are becoming harder to afford with rising prices and scarce resources. 📚 Dreams on Hold: Like so many here, my family’s dreams have been replaced by the need to simply survive. 😢 Unimaginable Loss: Losing 25 loved ones has left a void that can never be filled.

How You Can Help:

I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $5 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.

Your kindness, no matter how small, is something we’ll never forget.

What This Means to Us:

Your support is not about changing our entire situation—it’s about giving us a little relief, a little hope, and a way to keep going. We are not asking for much, and we understand if you can’t donate. Sharing our story is just as valuable to us as a donation.

Thank you for reading this far. It means the world to us to know that someone is listening. Your kindness gives us strength and helps us believe in a better tomorrow.

With all our gratitude, Mosab Elderawi and Family ❤️

✅️ Vetted by ✅️

@gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #309 )✅️

gofundme.com

Donate to Help me saving who's left of my family, organized by Mosab Derawi

Hello Everyone, I am Mosab Suleiman Al Derawi, 28 years old, my wife Nadine Adel A… Mosab Derawi needs your support for Help me saving who's

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erwin smith // fic recommendations

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

thursday flowers

rules, boundaries, and continuums

a soulmate who wasn't meant to be

small horizons

weekend lessons

strangers in the night

treasured memories

phone

come to bed

first date with the vets

closer

pirates don't go to school

homecoming

you love her don't you?

the ocean of grief

first snow

happy accidents

his pride

the sky was golden

regulars

a letter for the one i love most

good little girl

the 4 times erwin catches you and the 1 time you catch him

close call

a moment of serenity

reminisce

at last

nanami x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read cw: unprotected sex (and he cums inside you), fingering, nipple play if you squint, squirting

notes: a half-baked attempt at a nanami char study. also, not canon, this is post-jujutsu kaisen storyline, and nanami is alive and well – physically, at least. also x2, gege akutami, idgaf about you and your updated cute cyclops cat avatar, when i get you, it's fucking over for you.

NANAMI HAS a habit of falling into silence after arguments with you.

your first fight, you interpreted his silence as stonewalling, a way to prevent the conversation from continuing so that he wouldn’t have to take any more accountability or responsibility. so, you interrogated – demanded that he say something, anything.

but, in a fragile, almost meek voice, he hoarsely responded, “i’m sorry, my love. i just… i just need time to think.”

almost instinctively, you lurched forward to embrace him. you couldn’t bear to see him in such a state any longer – eyes downcast and watery, fists balled tightly, perspiration collecting on his temples.

“take all the time you need, kento,” you reassured.

the following morning, the two of you discussed and made amends over breakfast (which he got up early to make). and nanami revealed parts of himself you had never known before.

you see, nanami takes his roles as your partner for life and, more generally, as an adult very seriously. he’s given several subject matters and issues deep thought – the jujutsu world, global affairs, mentorship, parenting, and more –, yet he still finds himself in situations he hasn’t encountered before and is stumped. he doesn’t know how to proceed, how to navigate, unable to adapt because a critical, sneering voice in his head exacerbates his immobility. 

it screams: “why don’t you know what to do!”

he’s suffering from performance anxiety, disabled from acting like the adult he should be, reminded of the fact that he was forced to grow up when he was still only a teenager, still too underprepared and incapable to handle anything independently. he can’t even prevent his own relationship from falling apart, and that’s something within his control.

and you know these thoughts still poison your husband’s mind today. even though he’s no longer a sorcerer, and the both of you have moved to kauntan, malaysia, they will probably plague him for the rest of his life, fueled by his regrets and grief.

it’s obviously frustrating for you. but you’re also an adult, and you’re no stranger to regrets or grief yourself. unlike nanami, however, you’re more optimistic, even arguably whimsical and idealistic. just as there is so much pain and suffering in the world, there is also love and comfort. and you’d like to be a source of that support for nanami, standing right beside him as you both move forward, learning to seek and appreciate joy while living with sadness and mourning.

so after every heated conversation (because the two of you have resolved to never fight again), you stay true to your words and remind your husband just how far-reaching and unconditional your love is.

you’re seated on his lap and cupping his face in your palms.

“kento, look at me,” you whisper as you search for his eyes. nanami always gets so shy when you do this. you coax again, “kento, just let me say what i have to say, alright?”

“you don’t have to do this every time,” he mutters, though you know he doesn’t mean it.

“i’ll keep this up until you stop avoiding me.”

with that, he acquiesces. he peers at you, a little nervous and hesitant.

“kento, remember,” you begin, “when we argue, it doesn’t mean i want to break up with you.” kiss. “it doesn’t mean i hate you.” kiss. “it doesn’t mean you’re a horrible person.” you pepper a few more pecks, scattering them across his cheekbones, chin, and the spot right between his eyebrows. “it’s natural” – and you stress this – “for us to disagree and be annoyed at each other because we are not the same person. we both know what to do better on, and that’s that, yeah?”

nanami grunts in agreement, and you happily reward him with a longer smooch on his lips before you finish, “you’re the love of my life, kento, and nothing will change that. i hope you come to believe that.”

he blushes at your confession and mumbles a soft “i love you” in response.

content with your work, you start to sit up, preparing to slide off of nanami’s lap. however, nanami’s hands fly up to square your hips, preventing you from leaving.

“kento?” you ask. he doesn’t say anything, simply takes one of your hands and presses it against his growing bulge. you let out a soft sound of surprise.

“this is incredibly indecent of me,” he mumbles. “i just… need to show you how grateful i am for you.”

it’s your turn to melt at his words. heat floods your face, and you nod enthusiastically, earning a light giggle from your husband.

nanami leans forward to kiss you, gentle presses of his lips to yours. his left hand has bunched your nightgown to give his right access to the tops of your thighs and your core. his right hand caresses, almost tickles, the sensitive skin of your legs, palming and squeezing them as he feels you. he continues to travel upward, reaching to play with the fringes of your underwear. your whimper is swallowed by him as well, as he sneaks his tongue into your mouth, transitioning the kiss into a full-blown makeout.

he traces your folds and lines through your panties, his fingertips poking at the wet spot that is starting to dampen the lace and cotton. just his sheer touch is enough to make you keen, transform into a whimpering mess that only wants more, more, all of him. as a result, you pull away, translucent spit connecting and stretching out before it’s broken apart as you take off your nightgown and throw it behind you. nanami also strips himself of his shirt, before the two of you crash back together and resume kissing and mouthing and moaning.

nanami’s hands continue to work magic on your body – circling around and then tugging and twisting at your puffy nipples, shifting your panties to the side and inserting a thick finger into your squelching hole. throwing caution and embarrassment to the wind, he even becomes a little forceful and only gives you a brief moment to adjust before he shoves two more fingers in, forcing your pussy to take in three at once.

you can only throw your head back, whining his name, pressure and pleasure making you drool.

“sorry, dearest, i’m usually more careful than this,” he grunts through gritted teeth. his cock is still stuck in the confines of his pajama pants, and he knows he should give you more time. but, after a few more seconds, he has to pull his cock out, slip his fingers out of you, and align his tip with your entrance.

“i need it,” you sob, your hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders.

“are you sure?” you firmly nod your head, leaving him no choice but to stuff you full.

the stretch is delicious. honeyed. syrupy. your walls welcome him, and you feel your heart fill with so much warmth. the two of you are so clearly in love, heart eyes locked onto each other’s, even as nanami ruts into you and your nipples sing as they graze against his chest. you’re panting each other’s names, finding some way – any way – to get even closer, prove that physicality could never impede the joining of your souls. your thighs trap the sides of nanami’s legs, and your husband has lowered his hands to cup your ass to better bounce you up and down on his cock. every rock stretches you out even more, allowing him to sink even deeper into you.

you yelp, “kento! i – hah – love! you!” even though you’re short of breath, you try your best to say it over and over again, desperately hoping that nanami can get a glimpse of just how much you cherish him.

he gasps, “you just – never stop giving.” nanami knows he will never be able to string words together the way you do, intonate them with such profound adoration and admiration like you do. so the least he can do is show you.

he embraces you fully, arms moving up to wrap around your chest and torso, and hugs you closely as he thrusts up, punching air out of you so that you’re totally out of breath. he’s giving you everything he has because never has he felt so moved in his life. he just wants to give you everything, and if he can give you even a taste of ecstasy, he’ll be able to sleep soundly by your side tonight.

you’re fucked out, mouth lolling open, and because you’ve lost even the strength to hold your head up, you rest yourself in the crook of nanami’s neck.

“i’m close,” you whisper. dutifully, nanami nods, gives you a swift kiss on the cheek, and hammers even harder into you. each sheathe of his cock is a force to be reckoned, and in no time, you feel yourself squirting all over, losing yourself to the sensation of being enclosed by nanami’s body, heat, and devotion. nanami follows shortly thereafter, sucking heavily on your collarbone as he fills you up, up, up with his cum, a promise to remind you for day’s to come that he will always give you himself over to you, over and over again, everyday if you so pleased.

as the two of you rest, he looks down at you and waits for you to come back to him. and when you do, he musters his courage because, while words may always fail him, he will always try his best for you. “i love you more than you know,” he promises, voice laced with blissful exhaustion, and kisses you once again.

the start of something beautiful | r. braun

word count: 402 [ 1 min 30 sec read] | ✪ content warnings: uuuhhh stay away if u team fuck them kids. i mean i am too but like.. who don't love a fictional baby?

✮ new dad!reiner x new mom!reader / reiner x black!reader

you, your man, and y’all’s newborn baby.

- new dad!reiner who cried more than the baby did at birth

- new dad!reiner who, despite not letting you lift a finger since finding out about the pregnancy, still puts you on bedrest for the first few weeks post-partum. regardless of doctor's orders.

- new dad!reiner who rushes to his babygirl's every beck and call. he's learned her different types of cries after just one week, and can damn near hear her cry before she actually starts crying.

- new dad!reiner who's there for every post partum ache or craving, anything you want he'll get.

"whats wrong?" he immediately shoots up from his book in bed at the sight of you teary-eyed.

"it's s-stupid" you sniffle

"how many 'stupid' things have i made happen for you during the pregnancy? you still think i care about stupid?? tell me what's wrong baby."

"i want a kinder bueno bar so badddduhh" you whine, slumping over into the pregnancy pillow you still utilize.

you barely blink and he's sliding on his hoodie and slides.

best believe you got three of those damn bueno bars.

- new dad!reiner of whom you have a video of slowly swaying in the kitchen, lowly singing to an RnB song, daughter laying across one arm and a spatula in the other one early morning.

- new dad!reiner who has no concept of when a baby is meant to start eating solid food.

"so uhhh.. what's going on here?"

"’m introducing her to peanut butter."

"for one, ill be damned if my baby likes that solidifed dog water and two.. she's three and a half weeks old?"

"yeah. and?"

"'rei, that's like 8 month old shit. she can't even sit up on her own?"

(spoiler; not that you liked peanut butter before, but during your pregnancy the smell made you throw up on more than one occasion. no suprise she didn't like it a year later when reiner tried again.)

- new dad!reiner who you find in the hall late one night, showing babygirl your bump progression photos, explaining to her how big she was at each interval and how excited he is that she's finally here in the flesh.

- new dad!reiner who's first post of her had lyrics to "she's mine, pt.2" in the caption.

- new dad!reiner who, again, cries more than the baby does when his paternity leave is up and he has to work again.

- new dad!reiner, who makes you wanna marry him all over again.

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

𝗛𝗢𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗠𝗘 *+:｡.｡

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

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

featuring. gojo, yuuji, sukuna, nanami

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

𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 ༊*·˚

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

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

But then he surprises you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think…I think I’d like that.”

𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗝𝗜 ༊*·˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not the exception.

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

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

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

𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 ༊*·˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t.

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

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

You huff. “What is your problem?”

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

“Are you seriously jealous of your brother?”

He scoffs but doesn’t answer.

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

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

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

“Daddy, that’s a bad word.”

“Listen here, brat—ow.”

𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 ༊*·˚

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

What would it be like to be loved like that?

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

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

He arches a brow. “No?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank you for reading <3