#i am simply being anxious
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youreternallover · 2 months ago
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chat will I be cancelled for calling characters my f/o’s even if I pair them with ocs (they were my fictional others even before shipping with ocs, I just can’t bring myself to use my persona out of embarrassment)
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ahollowgrave · 5 months ago
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feeling a little silly but having a genuine emotional reaction to everyone being excited to answer my silly request (':
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mosstrades · 1 month ago
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im someone who stuggles not to let his curiosity and drive sometimes (often) cross over into an overwhelming and maladaptive need for answers, for explanation, for certainty. someone who, historically, sees making art as a primarily intellectual exercise. this is not inherently a bad thing, we all have our temperaments and this kind of attention can be a strength. but, you know that artist who makes a painting, and then only wants to show it while explaining it to you? thats me, sometimes, more often than i like. every story i used to write had another hundred page document behind it, explicating every single choice -- often i would simply read that, instead of ever actually write the story itself. the explanation precedes everything. the answers alone are the experience.
david lynch's work and philosphy has been and is a vital foothold in my efforts to learn to love the questions as our breath. learn to appreciate intuition and dreams, trust them instead of fear them. learn to see that the world has so much confusing, uncertain, strange beauty, that can be terrifying but turns sublime when you cease rejecting it from fear. when you embrace the unknown and dont try to immediately & anxiously explicate it all away, a whole new world opens up to you. that you need the darkness in order to dream, and you need dreams in order to live fully immersed in what the world has to offer. a foothold in learning to be okay with abstraction, with imperfect subjectivity, with uncertainty. to know it is not anthitetical to truth and meaning. know that to skillfully make ideas come alive into a work *is* to rationally pin them down, but that you cannot lose sight of the intuition they were born as.
his artistic intuition reminds me of what i need to have -- the trust and humility for experiencing the inexplicable and understanding that to be enough. a devotion to ideas and their realisation. a balancing force, for my endless inquiry -- to not forget to live the question in my the search for an answer. to allow some thing to go without clear or universal explanation, allow for some things to remain unresolved, allow for others to have that be their resolution. it's why his work equal parts captivates me and disturbs me -- i am very bad at this. but feel in my heart a need to get better at it. to be a better artist, a better thinker, a better searcher, a better person. you need to feel it, intuitively, quiet your endless noisy need for an answer and simply let it fill you up, let it resonate intuitively, and find in that how life makes sense to you and you alone. mediation, mindfulness, humility to sit with abstraction without trying to pin it down. more and more i try to understand this. some things don't need to make perfect sense. some things dont need answers, or their answers are not the point. some things dont need anything but to be experienced as they enter you -- like dreams do. that can lead you to the answer, and that can also be enough in itself. that can be just an intrinsic value in being alive to experience it. and so often, it is all in conversation with the search for joy. it's why he feels so captivating, so unique, so tremendously alive. why people use the word "visionary" when talking about him. because he knew how to use his medium in all the potential he could see, so that it let you live in the strangeness and questions. he understood them as sublime, he understood them as enough, he understood them as a joy. he understood them as beautiful. and his memory will remind me to do the same; always to seek the space to dream.
#(in dreams / oh in dreams / the snake will find its tail)#i am! a guy! who likes! answers!!#someone who resolves his fear of monsters in the closet by picking up a flashlight and brazenly throwing open the door!!#but at my worst i am also extremely anxious and thus avoidant!!#so i will resolve my fear of monsters in the closet by opening the doors wide and then simply pretending to see whats inside#searching for answers without the bravery to sit with questions#this makes me worse!! it makes me worse!!!!#thank you david lynch for reminding me over and over again that the way to stop being afraid of the dark#is to not stop at all#but instead embrace that disquiet. open the closet door wide as it will get. turn off the flashlight#and simply sit in front of it#observing -- simply observing -- whatever shapes emerge#letting them fill you up#and then doing something with them#also... man#lynch is one of the few things my mom and i almost completely agree on and could connect through#despite everything i feel like she gets this necessity for humility and curiosity and quieting down your need for answers#and not to get overshary on the tumblrs but it is a source of friction at times#because of my me and like. the abuse. i dont want someone whose failure of self knowledge gave me cptsd to tell me i should *think less*#but idk it's precious that through lynch we find a common ground in which to agree about it#i think i get what she was trying to tell me a little better now. or maybe what she would've liked to be trying to tell me#idk tldr i had a violent childhood where nothing made sense and everything was scary so now i struggle not to be desperate for#certainty and knowledge as protection. and the way i always found that was through art and philosophy so. yeah.#lynchs work helps me like... calm down a bit about that and do it better#to learn to love the strange and the confusing and the disquieting not see it always as a threat#to sit in the dark and see it for what it is. painful and beautiful. tender and hard. its deeply relieving. its good#hole in the world dude im gonna miss him really bad all i can feel rn is sadness gratitude and joy#forever in dreams#david lynch#mine
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b-blushes · 7 months ago
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thursday quest - no physical therapy today - make and eat lunch sooooo early but i can do it!!!!! - get ready for wedding - attend wedding! yay! (: - decompress well when i get home <3
#its thursday quest#god i'm so anxious about it autism style. so many uncertainties that i simply cannot account for alone. but i'm being sooo 'brave' about it#(keeping it to myself. except for posting about it)#taxi company hasn't texted me the drivers' details yet and i emailed them to be like ummmm your policy is to pay before the day#would you like to email me the payment details so i can do that? and they were like 'we'll send the driver details soon' ummmm#there isn't much soon left!!!!!!! it's happening tomorrow!!!!!!!!!!!!!#they're probably just not Organised™ in the way i prefer to be. which is objectively fine it's just challenging for me personally.#i do not think it's Bad but!!!!! i've never taken a taxi before <- guy who Is Scared Of Taxis Specifically but has to face#their fears because they're disabled and have no other choice.#worst case i am down the money and no-one arrives to take me home i guess :P but it'll be afternoon AND my family are there so#in theory i could just get a lift home even though that would mess up other people's plans sooooo bad. UNLESS they have already drunk uhhhh#in which case i guess i'd just ask for help calling a taxi to the place. plany of people who can do such things easily (unlike me)#it'll be fine!!! i can ask my siblings if need be bc they are so niceys and will not get mad at me for being autistic o7#My other worry is being too hot and being in a rush getting ready bc i have to eat a proper meal due to the symptoms syndromes#and we are leaving when my lunch usually is so that's a whole thing. which ALSO doesn't matter and I can do! it's just hard!#where is that post that's like 'managed mental illness can look like absence of mental illness 😅'. NOT saying being autistic is mental#illness i am saying that the specific extreme anxiety i have is for me linked to autistic issues with 'the unknown' and boy. does this#social situation also have a lot of unknown.#BUT I CAN DO IT! and dare i say even have a nice time!!!!! it's just i get so so scared beforehand but i will not express it in a way that#impacts or inconveniences anyone else!!! i can handle it by myself at my house and it'll be fine
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snowstories · 2 months ago
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I think I am officially at the point where I hate those 'how to spot AI' tips and tricks lists and the paralyzing anxiety around ever interacting with anything generative AI far more than I could ever actually hate generative AI. The 'signs' that something is AI get less and less clear-cut with each passing day and yet people keep sharing 'tips and tricks' that basically just encourage you to scrutinize everyone's art and call AI the moment you see something even slightly out of the norm. 'If an artist has wildly different art styles that's AI!' or maybe they just have different art styles. 'If the lines blur and details don't make sense it's AI!' or maybe it's a deliberate choice in the art. 'If the anatomy is off it's AI!' or maybe it's a stylistic choice or the artist just isn't very good at anatomy. 'If there's lots of art of popular topics in similar styles it's AI!' are you kidding me. Etc. Even worse when people start sharing tips on how to clock writing AI that basically boil down to 'if the English is nonsensical it's AI' like, or maybe the author just doesn't speak English very well? If that 'The Rumor Does Come Out: Does Bruno Mars Is Gay?' article came out today everyone would be swearing up and down that it's AI when it was just bad English (idk if the author genuinely didn't speak English well or if it was a joke but either way the point stands I think). 'If the article is nonsensical it's AI' or maybe it was just a rush job for little money come on now are we going to pretend shitty inaccurate articles started with AI? Saw a post that said 'if the writing seems overly stiff and formal it's AI' and they proceeded to list examples that I have said pretty much verbatim because I'm autistic and often have trouble figuring out how to start posts in a way that sounds natural. This shit sucks!
Like I'm not saying these signs can't be AI, I've definitely read nonsensical articles before and thought 'that's probably AI' or seen blogs recently created with a bunch of art in wildly different styles and thought 'that's probably AI' but the point is you can't know for sure. Fact is that most ways of telling whether something is AI or not at this point are entirely vibes based. And maybe I'm just a gullible naive bitch or whatever but I really do feel like ruthlessly scrutinizing each piece of art you see and insisting it's AI based on vibes and refusing to believe the artist when they say it isn't is in fact way more harmful than occasionally interacting with AI art. Also I just refuse to live like that rip to everyone else but I'm different.
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troubadour-malin · 3 months ago
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... the simping is getting worse guys.
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writerfae · 1 year ago
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Sure I kinda want the full moving out experience but also I feel like I’ve never been so stressed in my life before and we haven’t even started yet so I’m SO glad my parents help me out with some of the stuff I need to do
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ginkovskij · 5 months ago
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so i knew i was doing bad but i just realized i haven't been eating much these days. after my parents left i didn't bother to get any food to eat at all. oh. oh well...
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benoitblanc · 7 months ago
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someone tell me to start packing my flight is in two days
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lunod · 1 year ago
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I'm just spitballing here as usual and better people than me have analyzed the white woman pathology but I think the reason I've always found the "what if a woman was VIOLENT and RUDE and ANGRY" thing lackluster and boring is 1) I am already categorized and perceived that way if I do anything that isn't complete subordination and 2) I already experience white women as violent, rude, and angry.
Idk the specific Thing white women want to do is simply to be as powerful as white men but they forget that they do not have the balls to treat white men like that 99% of the time and instead just treat POC and random service workers like shit to get their little serotonin hit and think they're sticking it to The Man.
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mechawolfie · 2 years ago
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WAAAA I wish I talked more during the trans gathering there were so many ppl I wanted to talk to.... curse u social anxiety!!!!
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rervraiilstew · 1 day ago
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my drivers license manual has been sitting on my desk collecting dust for months now 🩷🩷 i am not looking through that anytime soon i do notwant to drive a car ever
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bubble-you · 8 months ago
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stereotypes are annoying because they're not the whole truth and sometimes the parts that are untruthful feel like they don't do your true self justice, but if i'm gonna be stereotyped as super artistic and quiet and shy and math-brained or stem-brained or like whatever i may as well use that to my advantage before they get to know me better. and in a similar way it is worth dressing well and presenting exactly how you wish to be seen. you may as well take advantage of other peoples' first unconscious biases about your appearance, they're going to make them anyway.
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random-lil-illing · 8 months ago
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having your friends be obsessed with the same character/media that you are is like a coin because it has pros and cons
the pros are you have someone to talk about said character/media with without having to talk to people you don't know (!! this is good because i have huge anxiety about interacting with strangers)
the cons are that you think your friends will find all your headcanons about that character/media cringe so you rarely talk about them (!! this is bad because i have huge anxiety about being perceived as a mischaracterizer)
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theskyvoid · 1 year ago
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Just had a very emotionally taxing conversation with my partner.
My how I love the current state of things
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blkkizzat · 3 months ago
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🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟺........... THE SALARYMAN SORCERER ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series
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visitor log: your sweet boyfriend, nanami kento, promised he'd come visit you tonight bunny. awe baby, don't cry, you're sure that's actually him at the door but you'll run through your checklist just to make sure, won't you?
classifications: huge crybaby!reader, bunny nickname in lieu of y/n, praise kink, an actual plot and backstory lol, dumbification, heavy dacryphillia, pet play, tights kink, raw dog, riding, breeding, manipulation, heavy cuteness aggression, slightly yandere nanami (maybe not so slight lol), angst but comfort, feelings of isolation, fluffy sweet moments of genuine romance, post-shibuya nanami (he survived with burns), burn trauma, jjk society sucks and a gojo cameo lol.
incidents: 6.1k
special shoutout to @yung-notorious who i bounced ideas off of and who had super sweet things to say about this story in general and is the reason i went so deep with this. 🥹
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*knock-knock*
A firm yet familiar knock jolts you awake. 
The clock reads a little past 3 am, its faint ticking the only sound filling the dimly lit stillness of your condo’s living room.
You had tried—and failed—to stay awake for Nanami. Determined to wait for him, you curled up on your cloud-like sofa with your Switch. But by 1 am, sleep had claimed you. Not even the promise of a solid turnip trade in Animal Crossing could keep your eyes open.
Yet Nanami rarely came over this late, always mindful of your sleep schedule—or lack thereof. He’d often remind you that you didn’t get enough rest anyway, and he wasn’t wrong.
One thing was certain though: Nanami had always kept his word when he’d promise to visit.
You missed Nanami terribly, only being able to see him via FaceTime for the past few days. So despite the unusual hour, a rush of excitement courses through you. Springing off the couch you practically run to the door.
But your enthusiasm is cut short. Your cozy, thigh-high-covered legs came to a screeching halt just short of answering the door. Mind racing, you think on you the exact reason why you hadn't seen your overworked boyfriend in so long.
Doppelgänger curses. 
What if it wasn’t your Kento at the door?
The intrusive thought grows more persistent as silent tears begin to shimmer, pooling in your long lashes.
“Bunny, you awake, my love? I’m so sorry I’m this late, doll—I’ve missed you.” Sniffling you calm a bit hearing the familiar voice.
Well, it certainly sounded like Nanami.
“Um, y-yeah, K-Ken, m’here.”
As much as you try to hold back your sniffles, the cracks in your voice are evident as you move more cautiously this time towards the door. Fiddling with the hem of the overly large white tee you are swimming in (one of Nanami’s undershirts), you perch up on your tippy toes to reach the peephole. 
Peering out into the hallway, you conclude that it certainly looks like Nanami too. 
Tall, well-put together in his usual glasses, suit and tie. Not to mention ridiculously handsome, even with the burn scars that riddled half his body—they never bothered you anyway. You just want to be in his arms and have to fight the urge right then to lower the barrier and fling the door open. 
“Now, now Bunny baby, don’t cry. I know it's very late but don’t be scared—you remember what you’re supposed to do now, right love?”
The checklist.
“Y-Yeah, I remember Ken—*hiccups*—but m’scared.”
You practically sob out the words, unable to control your anxious tears from rolling down your cheeks as you try to take steadier breaths. 
The checklist had been Nanami’s idea, a sure fire way for you not to worry and verify it was actually him at the door. Always considerate, he was so sweet to you—even though you felt unworthy of him.
You are a sorcerer in your own right and yet your fight-or-flight response is completely fucked—you simply just freeze-up and cry.
It wasn’t entirely your fault though, growing up in a well-to-do non-sorcerer family that pampered you, keeping you sheltered from most of the world. 
Not out of cruelty though, it was genuinely for your own protection. 
Surprisingly, they believed you without question when you confessed to seeing spirits. From an early age, you couldn’t set foot anywhere without encountering grotesque figures clinging to people or lurking around objects. As you grew older, you came to understand that these monsters—twisted and varied in shape and size—were everywhere. They moved freely, unnoticed by anyone else, even daring to roam the streets in broad daylight without a hint of fear.
As a result, you were homeschooled. Often lonely, you found it impossible to make friends outside of your own siblings and cousins. Whenever you did meet other kids, they dismissed you as an attention-seeker—or worse, labeled you a freak—whenever your abilities to see the supernatural were revealed.
Yet at the age of 13 is when already dire matters escalated exponentially. You discovered that when frightened your cursed energy, that you knew nothing of then, would run amuck. You couldn’t control your powers, unintentionally injuring others and nearly killing one of your beloved younger cousins when they jumped out of the pantry to give you a playful scare.
After the incident you voluntarily isolated yourself even more, terrified of the world and yourself for the 6 years that followed with no contact with anyone but your immediate family. Until out of the blue, your parents would bring an Assistant Manager representative from one of the many Jujutsu schools. They gave you more insight into the curses you were seeing and promised you’d even learn to master them if you'd work for them.
You hated to leave your family but you were aware of the ever growing threat you are to them so long as you can’t control your powers. 
Not to mention, the promise of meeting others like you had your heart racing with excitement, you’d almost forgotten the feeling resigning yourself to your feelings of loneliness. You thought you were completely alone but there apparently was a whole other world you weren’t aware of right in front of your face this whole time!
Unfortunately, like the many others who enter the Jujutsu world from outside families, you received a rude awakening—one that you’d learn was far more isolating than being locked away in your home as your hopes of being understood were quickly disillusioned. 
Well, they understood you fine, they just don’t care.
Especially as it is made apparent quickly you were classified at the highest level.
Special grade. 
Yet despite your ranking you find zero camaraderie and very little empathy as the majority of sorcerers you encountered came from generationally gifted families who regarded someone like you with either envy, annoyance or scorn as the competition. Compounded with the fact you were a certified scaredy cat despite having a power very few could compete with made you into the running joke of Jujutsu society.
Your fear crippled your ability to fully utilize your powers which was seen as weakness.
This earned you the title of ‘The Bunny Sorcerer’ or just “Bunny” for short. 
It was cruel but fitting since you did startle easily, just like a little bunny rabbit. Even the presence of a weak curse, one you could crush under your shoe, sent your heart racing and your wide eyes darting around in panic.
You hated it more than anything, but you didn’t run.
Where could you even go?
You refused to put your family at risk again. They had protected you for so long, even when it meant endangering themselves. Even if this new world rejected you, at least your presence here wouldn’t jeopardize them like before.
So, you gritted your teeth and endured, swallowing the bitterness of being reduced to nothing more than a tool—a "breeding mare" to be kept alive for future use.
All for your family.
With a deep breath, you pushed the painful memories aside, exhaling slowly as you forced yourself to refocus on the present.
Things are different now though with Nanami in your corner believing in you.
“I-I remember the checklist Ken, b-but how will I know it’s really you?”
There’s a tense pause before Nanami speaks again, the fatigue edged in his tone given the late hour rationalizes the delay in your mind. 
“Everything will be okay Bun, you’ll know, I promise. Just use the checklist like we practiced, doll. I believe in you.”
Clutching onto Nanami’s shirt, you nod your head despite him being unable to see it through the door. 
*sniff* ”...m’kay.”
You can do this! 
Nanami believed in you.
Like he always did.
From the very start of him becoming your mentor by the end of your second year in Jujutsu society.
You arrived to him as quite the pitiful little thing. Dejected and broken, you shrank yourself into being as obedient as possible. No one wanted to deal with the headache of looking after you—the three mentors in two different office locations before finally being transferred to Tokyo was proof of that.
Unceremoniously handed over to Nanami, you were to be his problem. He was to look after you until you learned to control your powers enough to be married off.
Nanami had been semi-retired since recovering from an unfortunate incident with a curse that had caused the entire left side of his body to be burned, he was lucky to keep his eye. His first real assignment back and he had to be burdened with you. Yet despite your many short-comings as a sorcerer, you were never a joke to Nanami. Nanami did not seem to mind that you had a soul far too sensitive and gentle for any real battle. 
Ironically enough, you actually begin to love the nickname 'Bunny' when he calls you it. The name was always accompanied by a small endearing smile that soothed your spooked nerves, as he reassures you that he too ’finds the world a little too harsh and unpredictable at times.’
Nanami would always tell you—‘Being afraid isn't a weakness—it’s proof that you care, that you are alive and want to continue to live—that’s what we are fighting for. You just do it in your own way Bunny, don’t worry about the rest.’ 
With the patience that would rival a saint, Nanami never ridiculed nor expressed disappointment in your failures, they weren’t failures he would tell you—only roadblocks for you to overcome. He’d overcome his injuries, like you could overcome your fears.
And you had. 
Clinging to him like a lifeline, you felt you owe the semi-normal life you live now to his support and unwavering belief in you. Over the past three years with him, you have conquered so many of your fears.
Nevertheless, it still wasn’t enough to keep this doppelgänger fiasco from regressing you back to the state you were in before meeting Nanami. Technically someone of your strength should have been out there fighting and exercising curses too.
Even though most doppels were low-level curses, their energy patterns mimicked their human counterparts, and their sheer numbers were overwhelming. The fear of making a mistake and accidentally killing a real human left you paralyzed. 
The higher ups quickly decided you’d be better off waiting in quarantine, like a civilian. 
For the first time in a long time you feel like a nuisance. You knew that Nanami would have to take on your burdens as he always did, now working harder than ever. 
You missed Nanami terribly over the last few days so you just want this to be your sweet boyfriend so badly, but this is the first time you've had to do this. 
Even with all the times you and Nanami practiced, preparing for this very moment, you still don’t know if you can go through with it.
Sniffling back tears, you steady yourself. 
The first thing on the list was to check his appearance. 
Starting from the top, there wasn’t even a hair out of place. Nanami looks dashing with his slicked back 7:3 salaryman style with slightly tapered sides, the density somewhat thinner on his injured left side. You bite your lip, as your gaze slides lower, his goggle glasses were the right shade and color. As well, with the exception of his scarring, his face nor body had no abnormal markings or features, just his familiar strong jawline set into a firm neutral expression. 
Nanami’s clothing passed inspection too. Not a wrinkle in sight. He wears his speckled yellow print tie and nicely pressed suit, with a single brown leather glove on his left hand to protect his marred thinned skin during battles, same as always. Nanami, although often worn by the end of the day, always kept a neat, well put-together appearance.
“Well, my love?”
The small smile that edges his lips makes you bounce on your toes and you can’t wait to let him in and jump into his arms but you know you still have one more set of checks to be done.
“You passed, Ken.. but mmm, we’re not done yet! N-Next are the questions!”
You hear Nanami lightly chuckle at the door clearly finding your nervous determination to correctly identify him endearing. 
And just as you were hoping for, Nanami passes the questions with flying colors too. 
“Alright doll, are you satisfied that it’s me? May I come in now?”
Chewing on the nail of your thumb you don’t know why you are still wavering.
He’d answered all the questions right and his appearance was flawless from what you could tell. 
However something just didn’t feel right and a renewed panic shoots down your spine. 
“Um, IDK… Ken, I-I want it to be you and I think it's you…b-but…”
Looking away, you pressed your forehead against the door unsure of what to do next. 
“Don’t think too hard now about it Bunny, you’ll start second guessing yourself again.”
Nanami answered all the questions correctly, just as the real Nanami would.
So why couldn’t you shake this feeling of something being off? 
You whimper as you just want to hold him and look up into his soft brown—and it dawned on you.
His eyes!
“T-Take off your glasses, Ken.”
A heavy silence follows, longer and far more tense than the one before.
“S-Show me your eyes Kento…please? T-Then I’ll believe it's you, then I’ll let you in. I promise!”
You're desperate to see his warm hazel eyes, even if they were strained with an exerted tinge of red—it was the final thing you needed to calm your worried heart and know for sure. 
You’d spent so much time gazing up into them, there's no way even the most perfect clone could duplicate them for you.
“Now, my Bunny…” 
Nanami’s tone shifted, turning cold and devoid of the usual warmth—a chilling, almost menacing edge that wrecked shivers down your spine, as if the person speaking wasn’t him at all.
“...why would you ask that of me? Open the door for me lil’ Bunny. I’m beginning to lose my patience with you.”
Nanami? Losing his patience…?
Your brows furrowed as the ominous tension hits you like a pound of bricks, the cracks in the doppelgänger's facade rapidly crumbling away.
Swallowing a hard lump, you have to confirm it with your own eyes.
“S-Show me!”
Nanami just chuckles, removing his glasses to reveal himself as a doppelgänger with two pitch-black holes oozing thick, dark fluid where his gentle brown eyes should be. The doppel hears your sobs through the door, and you stumble back, falling on your ass as the door frame trembles from the curse rattling against the barrier.
The curse was strong, stronger than normal reportings and before you knew it the door flew open, almost completely off the hinges. However it wasn’t enough to break your barrier and have them enter.
“Heh, didn’t think you would suspect me at all—dealing with someone as weak-minded as you.” 
Fear wrecks through your body as the words coming from the clone sound more distorted and monstrous than ever.
“Now when I do get in there, you’re really going to regret it—you pathetic sniveling skinbag. I think I’ll peel it off you slowly, skin you just like a little rabbit, Bunny. Would you like to be my meal?”
Tears spill freely now, your bleary eyes blinking against the steady flow. Yet, for the first time, the emotion rising in your chest isn’t just fear—it’s anger. Raw and undeniable.
This disgusting curse really had the audacity to mimic your precious Nanami!
Resolute, your legs shake like a newborn fawn yet you still manage to draw yourself to your feet. Your eyes are closed, screwed shut as you attempt to drown out its taunts and provocations. But you can still sense it before you, which was good because you didn’t want to have to look at the grotesque form of the person who meant the most to you any longer than you had to.
“Awe, did I upset the wittle Bunny?” 
The doppelgänger's voice returned to a pitch similar to Nanami's, making a mockery of the both of you further before his voice turned more twisted than ever. 
“Because I guarantee the huge disappointment you are is even more upsetting to the real Nanami.”
“No, that’s not true! The real Nanami would never say that!”
Sparks dance at your fingertips as you concentrate, pouring your energy into the barrier. You have the strength, but his cutting insults and the relentless pounding against the shield gnaw at your focus. Doubt creeps in, and your energy falters, flickering as you fight to hold onto your resolve.
Come on girl, get it together now!
Just as Nanami taught you, you steady your mind with slow, deliberate breaths, shutting out the doppelgänger’s cruel taunts. The deep, calming flow of air through the back of your throat soothes your heart, which had been pounding like a drum, and sends a surge of energy coursing through your veins. With each exhale, your power gathers—stronger, sharper, and more focused than before.
Yet, as your eyes finally open and you ready yourself to unleash your ability, the doppelgänger is suddenly silenced. Going mute before a choked gurgle escapes its lips before its head splits into pieces—cut down by Nanami’s precise ratio technique.
The new Nanami that appears before you immediately removes his glasses, and when you meet his soft hazel eyes, they’re exactly as you remembered: gentle, tender, and reassuring.
There’s no doubt about!
He’s the real deal—he’s your Nanami!
Instantly dropping the barrier, Nanami catches you as you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Evening Bunny, my heart.” 
Hearing the words coming from him, the actual Nanami, has you falling apart in his arms ugly crying into his chest with happiness and relief. 
But your tears could never be ugly to the real Nanami, who holds you tighter as he coos how proud he is of you and how he’s so sorry for being late and leaving you all alone for so long. 
ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩
The fact stands, Nanami finds immense beauty in your tears. 
And although he has never failed to pronounce your beauty no matter how much of a distressed state you were in, the direct affection for your cries isn’t something he’d ever elaborate on.
Nanami is terrified of what he might say. 
The underlying truth being that you awoke a ferociously strong lust in the form of cuteness aggression whenever Nanami saw even the tiniest bit of wetness dew on your lids.
“HAA! D-Daddy, D-Daddy puhlease! I-I cannnnnnn’t!”
However, the flowing tears that Nanami could pull from your sweet puffy eyes while you so dutifully bounce on his cock are definitely his favorite. 
Once in his arms you had pulled him down to the floor, ripping off all his clothes as the rush of varying emotions had gone straight to your pussy. And of course, you being the perfect peach you were for him, volunteered to ride him—without a condom—for the first time.
You claimed you wanted to feel all of the him inside you, no more barriers between the two of you. 
Nanami certainly is more than happy to oblige you as always. 
Mounting him, your manicured nails find purchase on his solid abdominals for leverage, assisting your feet planted on the ground as you bounced—much like an actual bunny—on his cock, feeling the pulse of every vein dragging along your walls. 
This was another reason loved to call you Bunny as you certainly wanted to fuck like one.
“Hm? Wasn’t it you? My slutty doll, who begged to ride me though, pet?”  
Your pretty mewls of protest only make him harder as your gooey cunt quivers when he refers to you as his ‘pet’.
A soft girl to the core despite the strength you possess, you loved the way Nanami claimed you by calling you his pet. There was a comforting simplicity in it—no expectations, no pressure to be anything but yourself. 
Just the quiet assurance that he would care for you, exactly as you are.
This was evident by all the affection he would shower you with daily as well as the pretty pink leather collar with a hollow rose gold heart that said “Bunny” in matching rose gold cursive. You'd been wearing it this entire time, wanting to greet him at the door with it on.
“You can Bunny. How many times must I tell you, my love? This is what you were waiting for, yes? Having the nerve to play with my pussy before I came home—you weren't even wearing panties under my shirt, pet.”
By now Nanami's shirt has been long discarded from your body. You are completely bare save for the thick leg warmers digging into your plush thighs and your collar twinkling in the dim living room lighting. 
You knew exactly what you were doing too, fully aware of how much he loved seeing you in his oversized undershirt. The material, drenched in the musk from a hard day's work, hung loosely over you, draping your curves perfectly to tease and captivate.
You were deadly to him.
In combination with the tights you wear revealing just a fleeting silver of skin with each subtle step ignited a feral dominating urge Nanami otherwise tried to keep in check. A guaranteed way for your pussy to end up stuffed and your ass spanked as he folded you over the nearest piece of furniture.
It goes without saying you wouldn’t greet him after so long wearing anything else—you even naughtily played with your pussy earlier so you'd could have him inside of you as we walked through the door.
Likewise, you know the dedicated efforts you exert now that has sweat glistening off your jiggling tits, core muscles clenching for stability and leaves you panting, pleases him to watch as well.
Nanami grins lovingly at your labors, he is convince you have to be a masochist at heart. As big of a scaredy cat as you are, you rarely ever run from his cock.
Even now when the force needed to bully his thickness into your slick pussy over and over had your tongue lolling out and your eyes lodged deep into the back of your skull murmuring gibberish.
You’d easily fuck yourself dumb for him.
You still persist, even when it feels like his immense girth might split you into two from the intensity of your pleasure. Being with Nanami is the first time since entering the Jujutsu world where you didn’t feel alone, where someone didn’t mock or ridicule you or expect you to be a tool for their benefit. 
So you’d push through for him, through anything. 
Even though your stomach flutters with butterflies full of uneasy anticipation every time you’d plead with your burning thighs to lift you once more—knowing soon the laws of gravity would prevail and you'll have the very wind knocked out of you when your cervix slams down hard onto his portly tip.
“Always such a sweet slutty girl for me, my love…” 
One of his hands strokes your calf encouragingly while the other runs along the bend in your knee, briefly toying with the hem of fabric at your thighs, before resting on your belly. Nanami is too enthralled by the way your stomach bulges and deflates again, his cock scraping along your gummy walls making a complete mess of you.
“....Can you feel me here too, pet?”
When Nanami hands dip into the soft rolls of your tummy just below your navel it’s intentional and directly over your g spot. Your nails dig into his abdominals as you sew your eyes shut. You're oh so close to cumming and you want to milk Nanami’s cock, twitching against your womb, for all its worth.
“K—HNN!”
“What was that? Speak up my love, or I won’t be able to hear you over your pretty crybaby pussy, you aren’t going to let her be louder than you, hm?”
Nanami gifts your ass with a firm open palmed smack.
“HAAA—MMMMN—Not f-fair K-Knghh!”  
The creamy squelching of your pussy threatens to cry even louder as you continuously impale yourself on his cock. You pout crying through barely intelligible complaints but your lustful hips never stop, no matter how much they ache from spreading wide across his broad pelvis.
You could barely think, let alone form words so if your pussy wanted to speak up for you in this case, you’d let her. You were too busy trying to remember to breathe, spittle depositing on the sides of your lips from the way you swore you had somehow pushed Nanami’s long dick all the up up into your ribcage. 
His big strong hand cups your cheek, thumb gently swiping through your tears and sweat as Nanami encourages you to keep going for him. The act seems so lovingly selfless but truly it’s to push the strands of hair away from covering your face so Nanami could see your wild tears unhindered. 
Nanami understands quite well how twisted it is of him to get off on your tears to the extent he does. That said, it’s those moments of softness, when you are at your most fragile and desperate, are the ones he cherished above all others.
Those were the moments you only look to him.
You not only made Nanami feel wanted—you made him feel needed. 
Truthfully, even now he felt as if he was undeserving of all your perfection. It was clear, you were a diamond in the rough. Beautiful, strong, and a rather sweet and friendly disposition once you felt comfortable enough in your surroundings to open up. Not to mention you had youth on your side, just barely reaching your mid-twenties while Nanami was well into his thirties. 
Aging and horrifically disfigured on his left side, he had long resigned himself to solitude even before his disfigurement. Nanami being the consummate workaholic salaryman of Jujutsu society, he already had no life beyond his job responsibilities.
Pathetically, even in his rare moments of daydreaming—imagining the soft beaches of Malaysia he had more than enough vacation days accrued to visit—he walked those sandy shores alone in his mind.
Nanami, if anything, was a realist. He knew he might as well be a curse among regular civilians given his appearance now. He pretends even now not to notice the double take stares or whispers, the looks from sympathy to pure horror.  
So it's no surprise Nanami never dared to consider anything other than his reality.
Until you came along and changed that.
“MNNNN K-KEN—M’GONNACUMM’GONNACUM!”
Your words slur as your ass slams down in his lap with more fervor. The increase in friction of your clit against his pubic bone causes your squirt along with the milky fluids at the base of his shaft to gush everywhere. Your arousals soil his torso and causes your soggy tights to slouch around your thighs.
Your hands lose traction in the mess you made on Nanami's taut stomach, the muscles flexing and quivering from your frantic slippery gropes at his flesh. Nanami's balls grow more sore with every impact of your flesh rippling together. His sack is so eager to release the viscous surge of syrupy white fluids he’d built up in his absence.  
Completely on autopilot, his words barely register. It isn’t until Nanami’s voice cracks, repeating himself twice more, that his words finally break through the haze of ecstasy clouding your mind.
“HAAA—Can’t stawppp—FFFFUH—jus’ put it in m’tummy d-daddy!”
As if on the command of your words and spasming cunt reaching its spine-tingling nirvana, he does just that. Grunting loudly and throwing his head back, Nanami almost chokes on his own spit from how tight a hold your filthy pussy has on him when the geyser in his loins suddenly bursts, sloshing inside you.
A keen cry slips from your lips at the feeling of his hot cum swirling in your womb, marking you. Nanami fills your pussy to absolute capacity until dribbles of cum trickle out of your hole. As your adrenaline breaks its crest you can now feel the arches of your feet screaming at you as your legs can no longer support yourself. Exhausted you fall forward onto his bare sweat-slicked chest, your mission finally complete. 
Nanami too for a moment feels sated. However as soon as you caught your breath you just had to peer up from his chest to bashfully give him a small innocent smile like you weren’t just brazenly riding his dick like a starved cockhungry whore.
“Missed you, Ken.”
You whimpered softly, pressing a tender kiss to the scarred skin over his heart before resting your cheek there. Your heart-eyed gaze locks with his, unwavering and full of loving devotion.
Fuck.  
Something snaps and a tyrannical urge tingles on the tip of Nanami's every nerve, ignited by sweet adorable nature.
Pulling you into a kiss you Nanami as he wholly devours you, not allowing you rest. The taste of your slobbering moans into his mouth are simply addicting and he could spend hours teasing and suckling on your cute little tongue if you’d allow him.
Rolling you under him and onto your back in a mating press, you mewl at the electricity shooting through your cunt upon his length swelling again. This position makes it easy for his cock to restretch your sloppy spongy core he thrusts slow and deep into you. 
Your hands instantly push against his hips, squirming while trying to prevent him from disturbing your still spasming womb. 
Yet Nanami was having none of it. Restraining both your hands in one of his own overhead.
“I know my pretty pussy isn’t acting all scared of cock now? Not after the way she greedily drained me and gobbled up my seed.”
Now was Nanami’s turn to savor every part of you.
There’s fresh sobs that spill down your puffy face again when his cockhead roughly prods into your cervix. 
“T-That’s it, let em all out—HAAA—Show Daddy how much that crybaby pussy loves getting slutted out, pet,” 
Nanami's words amplify the quivering of your cunt with each new thrust spurring his hips to slam back into yours. The slick moisture on his balls causes a harsh sting every time they slap against your ass and encourages him to go faster, increasing your tears and pleasure.
Getting off on you being his tight wet little fleshlight, Nanami considers if he's still too twisted to be with you.
Had the burns from the incineration of half his body seared him so severely it sullied his very soul into the sadistic form it is now?
The truth lies in the withheld secret that Nanami had, in fact, stalked his own doppelgänger, following it all the way to your high-rise condo. He could have stopped the creature long before it ever reached your door. However his own darkness—slimy and sadistic—held him back.
A part of him feels ashamed, guilty for standing by and allowing your tears when he could have prevented them. But he did truly believe in you. Nanami was knew you were far stronger than you gave yourself credit for, and, in his own flawed way, he wanted to show you that strength.
You could have easily blasted his doppelganger curse to hell, yet Nanami wasn’t such a beast he'd traumatize you by making you harm something that looked so much like him.
No, he only truly enjoyed your tears when you were under him like this, so drunk off his cock you’d forget about any other fear.
"K-K-FUH—NNN!"
Your hands are still above your head as Nanami continues to pound you like a madman. Your mouth gapes open to wordless cries that beg him to let you cum. The lewd gurgles and slurps from your pussy wringing out his cock echo in your ears—she's sobbing enough for the both of you and it’s mozart to Nanami’s ears.
Honestly, Nanami never wanted to be apart from you that long ever again. 
It’s In that moment, deep in your guts as your ecstasy renders you dumb, chest arching up like a beacon. Nanami realizes that your presence is as essential to his existence as the sun itself.
You are his sun.
Your warmth is more comforting, tempering his traumas and offering a soothing peace he never imagined was possible. The tranquility he envisions, basking in under golden rays, only matter if you’re beside him sharing in that serenity.
Now when Nanami pictures himself walking carefree along sandy shores in his mind's eye, you’re there with him, hand in hand.
The thought of you being married off to some ancient sorcerer clan, destined for mistreatment, fills him with a quiet rage. He’d die before allowing that to happen.
No—he would make you his. Forever. 
Because now, the idea of a life without you feels unbearable and from the desperate way you creamed on him as if his cum was sustenance for your needy succubus pussy let’s him know you feel the same way even if you can't verbalize it in the moment. 
Nanami had known how you felt ever since the day you first met Gojo. He’d managed to keep you off Gojo’s radar for 4 months, but hiding you forever was impossible. When you finally crossed paths, Gojo, ever the smarmy jester, wasted no time teasing and flirting with you relentlessly, despite your timid nature.
Yet things had taken an unexpected turn when Gojo casually suggested that a sorcerer of your grade should train with him instead. Nanami stood next to you stoically, his face in a hard line. He knew Gojo wasn’t entirely wrong—you likely would progress faster under his tutelage even though he'd likely terrorize your nerves in the process. With Gojo, you wouldn’t have to endure training sessions cut short by Nanami’s bouts of phantom pain or the constant disruptions caused by the unpredictable chills and sweats that had plagued him since losing the ability to regulate half his body temperature.
Still, neither of them could have anticipated your reaction.
The moment Gojo made the suggestion, fat tears brimmed in your eyes, spilling over in seconds. Nanami’s heart shattered into pieces as your small fist clung desperately to sleeve like a lifeline. Your plump bottom lip trembled, and when you finally spoke, your dejected voice was so soft it was barely more than a whisper.
“You're going to get rid of me too, Nanami?”
The question came out more like a statement, like you'd expected him to eventually. It's in that instant that the damn Nanami’s carefully restrained feelings broke. His heart ached with a deeper affection he could no longer deny. Gojo, for his part, immediately backed off, though he made it a point to tease Nanami mercilessly afterward.
“Your little crybaby bunny got so upset thinking I’d steal them away.”
Frankly, as long as Gojo left you alone, Nanami didn’t care what the hell he said nor anyone said or did. All that mattered was you staying by his side.
Nanami decides he's had enough as a new clarity washes over him.
Fuck these doppelgangers. 
Fuck his job. 
And most importantly?
Fuck the Jujutsu world.
Nanami knew Gojo had been dicking around for whatever reason when they should have been rid of these doppelgangers long before this point. However, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to care anymore, refusing to be apart from you working himself to the bone if Gojo was also not taking this seriously.
For the first-time in his career as as sorcerer—Nanami is taking a vacation.
He's booking 2 first-class tickets to Malaysia—tomorrow.
“Bunny, we’ll have to get you a new collar, my pet. Wouldn’t want the metal to heat up too much on the beach and scar your perfect skin.”
Wha? A beach? 
"Hnnn—m'kay K-Ken..."
Agreeing to anything, you're reduced to goo from the way Nanami has been tearing through your guts like he was in a trance.
You have zero clue what Nanami is talking about.
However, that's probably for the best to be honest.
Otherwise the amount of nervous, apprehensive tears that would leak from your eyes upon learning his plans to bust your pussy wide open like a coconut over and over on a public beach of all places would surely have earned you three more rounds.
......RESULT: PASSED 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘! 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒—𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚊. 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔—𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚞𝚝𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍.
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that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)
lmk what you think~!
comment and reblog! next up a no-nut-nov multific!
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