Had To Illustrate What I Envision Literally Every Time I See This Text Post

Sorry to break it to you but you literally have to face your fears and slaughter them. Otherwise you will live a small life that you do not want. You literally have to view your biggest fears and attack them head on. You have to fall into the abyss to find your way out. The easy path does not exist. There is no get out of jail free card. You have to allow yourself to die a spiritual death over and over again in order to reinvent yourself into the person you are actually supposed to be. And you have to be painfully honest with yourself and the people around you. It’s horrible but it’s truly the only way.

The sexual tension between a girl and not feeling real every time her birthday comes around

happy kanthony season anniversary to all who celebrate!!! 3 beautiful years of fingers in his mouth

i cannot hate myself into a version of me i will love.

i dont think any of you understand how important i am to the plot

things we need to address:

gen z men getting pulled into alt-right pipelines through andrew tate, joe rogan, elon musk, jordan peterson etc

the gullibility and stupidity of half the country voting against our collective best interests

the broad effect social media has on public and common good

lazy minds and lack of empathy

outside-country interference (trump and elon’s connections to russia and the amount of bots from other countries spreading misinformation)

the long-term effects of AI and rampant disinformation

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.

you’re perched on the bathroom counter, legs dangling off the edge, watching nanami stand in front of the mirror with his usual morning routine. but today, he looks… reluctant. shaving cream is already lathered over his jaw, razor in hand, but he hasn’t moved. instead, he just stares at his reflection, shoulders a little tense.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head.

“nothing,” he sighs, rolling his shoulders. “just tired.”

“too tired to shave?”

“i’d rather not risk an injury first thing in the morning,” he mutters, rubbing his temple.

your lips twitch. “well, we can’t have that.” before he can argue, you pluck the razor from his fingers. “i’ll do it.”

nanami gives you a skeptical look, but when you pat your thigh in invitation, he exhales through his nose—long-suffering but fond—before stepping between your legs. his hands settle on either side of you, palms resting against the counter, caging you in but not in a way that feels confining. in fact, he feels close, warm, grounding.

“chin up, pretty boy,” you murmur, dipping your fingers under his jaw to angle his face just right.

his lips twitch, but he obeys. “i assume you’ve done this before?”

“nope.” you grin. “but i think you’ll survive.”

he huffs out a laugh, but his amusement fades into quiet focus as you drag the razor down his jaw in slow, deliberate strokes.

it’s an oddly intimate thing, shaving someone else’s face. you have to be careful, precise—your fingers ghosting over his skin, tilting his face just so, brushing the curve of his cheek, the edge of his lips. nanami stays perfectly still, letting you work, his eyes half-lidded as he watches you.

“you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he murmurs after a moment.

“mm. how often do i get to do something like this? it’s kind of nice.”

“you like pampering me?”

“maybe.” you swipe the razor clean before continuing. “i mean, you’re always taking care of me. let me take care of you too.”

nanami’s hands tighten on the counter just slightly, but he doesn’t say anything right away. instead, he exhales, something in his expression softening as you run your fingers over his skin, wiping away the last traces of shaving cream.

“there,” you murmur, brushing a thumb over his freshly shaven cheek. “all done.”

he hums in approval, running a hand over his jaw before looking at you, something unreadable in his gaze. then, before you can react, he leans in, hands sliding up to your waist as he tugs you just a little closer.

“thank you,” he murmurs, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple.

your breath catches, fingers curling against his shoulders. “you’re welcome,” you say, a little breathless. “but i still think you just like being pampered.”

“only by you.”

he kisses you then, soft and slow, his lips brushing against yours like he’s savoring the moment. and when he finally pulls back, his thumb traces small, absentminded circles against your hip, as if he doesn’t want to let you go just yet.

maybe you’ll have to do this more often.

this year while we all celebrate pride month and celebrate ourselves as well as those who came before us and paved the way for us to do so, we must also think of those in gaza, queer or not, who live every day under a brutal occupation and don’t have that same privilege. happy pride, and may we see a free palestine in this lifetime.

'ughhh this 2d man would be sooo mean to his romantic partner'