#nanami is so precious

[pseudowho]

Good Boy

The first time you called Kento a good boy, his mouth was between your thighs on the sofa, three fingers thrusting inside you, tongue and nose stroking between your folds like your taste would wash away his terrible, awful, no-good day.

Your hips bucked up off the pillows against his mouth, and you gasped, tugging Kento's messy blond hair at the roots; "oh fuck...Kento just like that, don't stop, fuck...such a good boy."

With a sharp intake of breath, and a shuddering moan, Kento came down his thigh, cock leaping in its confines, pyjamas soaked and sticking to him as you reached your peak, thighs clamping against his head. Stunned, Kento raised his head, staring at you in reverence with glistening eyes and a pink blush across his cheeks and nose.

"Kento, did you-- I didn't even think you were close--" you breathed, still panting, and Kento blushed harder. You giggled, a hand over your mouth. With a wicked look in your eyes, you tugged Kento's hair, to pull his face back to your pussy, "but you are a good boy."

Kento shivered again, mortified by how sinfully sweet it felt, to be called a good boy after such a dreadful day.

Ever since, his every bad day could be improved by your softly whispered praises.

Between your legs, his back was against your chest in the bath. You stroked his aching length with soapy hands, squeezing at the tip, wet little sucks coming from the water as your fist swirled around his cockhead. Kento gripped your legs, the sides of the bath, his blond head rocking from side to side as he moaned, a low, desperate, gravelly sound.

Your tongue traced his ear, nipping gently, and Kento shuddered, his orgasm close, but not yet there. He just needed something...something more...something different.

"Please," he begged, hips bucking involuntarily into your soft wet hand, "please..."

You moaned ever so gently into his ear; "I want to see you twitch while you cum...good boy." Kento groaned, long and steeped in ecstasy, almost blinded by pleasure as his orgasm hit like a starfall. You swore you could cum from the image of him alone, convulsing against you, white-knuckles gripping the bathtub, gasping, cock jerking warm spurts of his seed into your hands.

Another day, sat at his desk, his head in his hands and trying to contain his throbbing headache, you sidled over to him. He gave only the briefest hesitation when you sat in front of him, your skirt tucked up around your waist, pushing his papers aside. The briefest parting of your legs showed your panties wet, all for him, pushed to the side of your poor clenching pussy.

You pulled Kento to you by his tie, and by the time his lips met yours, he was already feeling fire and spice run down his spine from the intoxication of you.

Gripping him close, as he necked you like an eager virgin, you felt the insistent push of his cock against your puffy lips, and rocked your hips forward to invite him in.

Broad hands clasping at your arse, fingertips bruising, Kento saw a burst of petals and stars as he sank into the plush heat of you. He stayed this way, cockwarmed, as you stroked the day off his shoulders, rocking him, hushing him with his cock twitching deeply inside you.

Your hands worked into the knots of his mountainous shoulders, feeling the aching muscles roll and ripple under your fingers. Kento couldn't help but buck into you, moaning desperately into your neck, trying to stop his thrusts chasing your pussy away. He barely pulled out, just needing to be deeper, closer.

Your hand trailed off his shoulders and to his tie, and you spun it around gently so it trailed down his back instead of his chest. Giving it one slow, choking tug, you whispered to Kento; "you deserve all the best things in the world, my Kento...my good boy."

Kento choked against his tie, his knees almost buckling as he came, biting into your neck with a strangled growl, cum pouring against your cervix, and he bucked like it was his first time inside you.

He was shaking and sated and doe-eyed as he nuzzled your neck, always so happy to be your good boy, when the work he did never complimented him for his efforts.

[satorisoup]

UWAHHH new jjk official art with PAINTED NAILS SUGURU !! :3

[thatsamonkey]

Why does nobody ever talk about how cute Nanami's hair is when it's completely down

[catharsistine]

thinking about the scene where gojo suprises megumi and nobara by making yuuji jump out of a box to reveal his death had been faked. thinking about why gojo did it. thinking about how when gojo, geto, shoko, nanami and haibara were kids they would have been overjoyed to find out their classmate was alive.

how many nights did nanami spend wishing that haibara's death was some cruel joke? that he was actually alive and well? how many times did geto replay riko's death in his head, touch the ghost of the wounds toji left on his chest, wishing for the days that were long gone? how many times did shoko stand over another dead body in the morgue, a corpse of a friend she has to dissect for her education, wishing she had any other cursed technique but her own? how many times did satoru curse himself for being unable to prevent the grief that tortured his friends, despite being the strongest? what all of them wouldn't have given for such a morbid surprise. gojo probably perceived the itadori reveal as the happiest thing that could happen to a jujutsu high student.

thinking about megumi and nobara's reaction to finding out their dear friend is alive. thinking about how well gojo has raised his kids to make them understand that death is unnatural and a horrible thing, not simply a pat of a jujutsu sorcerer's life. that one has to be horrified at death, not accept it numbly. their reactions to yuuji faking his death was betrayal; how dare you keep this secret from us? and not blind relief.

thinking about the dissonance between these two generations of sorcerers, thinking about how death was so normal to gojo's generation and so horrifying to yuuji's generation, how this correction in their perception is all thanks to the students not being reduced to pawns in the hands of the higher ups. satoru wanted to prevent his students from succumbing to suguru's fate and this scene perfectly demonstrates that he had succeeded. he couldn't save his best friend, his one and only, but at least he saved his kids.

[pseudowho]

Catopolis I love you

I love you Catopolis

Mew mew meow meow mew meow

sweet dreams, good morning / fem!reader/kento nanami.

you and your boyfriend nanami usually showered at different times. this morning, he decided to join you.

tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab!reader. established relationship. shower sex. penetrative sex. no set timeline but presumed canon!verse. fingering. creampie. unprotected sex (wrap it kids). nanami had a little dream about you. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever.

wc: 3.6k.

a/n: inspired by some nsfw pieces @jimwackthesecond sent to me of nanami on discord, ty babes I'm still throbbing about it

mdni.

It was rare for Nanami to join you like this. 

Even after months of living together, of being by each other's side; of cooking, eating, drinking and sleeping next to one another—showers together were rare. It wasn’t any conscious decision, really, just a difference in routine. You preferred to shower in the mornings. Nanami preferred to shower in the evenings. Small moments of solace and quiet amidst the hot water and soap. A moment of solitude between lives so tightly intertwined. 

Today, however, Nanami had surprised you. 

You were halfway through your usual semi-methodical routine, soap suds still clinging to your arms and chest, when you felt the door open. A cool gush of air rushed through the fog of the warm bathroom for a moment, skittering up your back in a gentle caress. You shiver, hearing Nanami’s familiar footsteps, but think little of it. You had thought you had been quiet when you had slipped from his sleepy embrace, wanting to give him a longer lie in bed for once—but perhaps you hadn’t been quiet enough.

Any moment, you had expected the tap to start running, the sound of toothpaste being uncapped and bristles against white teeth. Instead, the sound of rustling clothes just about reaches your ears over the sound of water thudding against the tiles beneath your feet, and then comes the slide of glass, a footstep and—

—strong, warm arms encircling your waist tightly, as if you might disappear into smoke if he let go. 

You smile softly to yourself as Nanami presses up close against your back, hard pectorals slotting against the ridges of your shoulder blades. The heat of his chest is a strong match to the warmth of the water against your front, seeping into your bones and warming you from the inside out. 

A nose nudges at the crook of your neck, moving upward before soft lips press against the spot right behind your ear. You chuckle softly, leaning back into the caress, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Not like you to shower in the morning,” you murmur, barely audible over the rush of the water. 

A low hum is your response. The arms wind tighter, and a large, calloused hand settles on your navel. His thumb brushes up and down in a languid, repetitive motion. You shiver slightly.

“I had an incentive,” Nanami replies, his voice a husky rumble, throat still thickened with the remnants of sleep. He presses another kiss against your skin, his lips lingering this time. “You don’t mind?” 

You chuckle again, shaking your head as you settle it back against him, feeling the hard ridge of his collarbone against your skull. “Of course not.” 

Even after all this time together, seeing each other at your most vulnerable, Nanami was always aware and respectful of boundaries, even unspoken.

A contented silence settles in the bathroom, broken only by the spray of the showerhead. Morning sunlight spills through the frosted, dewy glass, reflecting off the mirror that paints a portrait of a couple, very much in love. Nanami’s thumb continues its gentle caress, a soft swipe up and down that becomes as familiar to you as your own heartbeat. His other hand rests against your ribs, just underneath your breast, but makes no move to touch or cup it just yet. 

A sleepy comfortability takes over you. Between the heavy warmth of the water and steam, as well as the steady thrum of Nanami’s heartbeat behind you, you find yourself leaning more and more into his form. He supports you easily, hands tightening just slightly to bear more of your weight. You start to distinctly remember why you rushed through showers in the morning—sleep still clinging to your mind like condensation on glass. 

It was a weekend, though. Neither you nor Nanami had any work or missions, no business or meetings. There was no world to save. Not today. 

“I could fall asleep like this,” you mumble, eyes still shut. 

Another feathery kiss, against your shoulder this time. “Do you want to go back to bed?” 

Although the idea of crawling back into still-warm sheets is appealing, you shake your head. This was enough. More than enough. 

You wind a hand down your body, settling it above Nanami’s own where it rests against you. You don’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers with his, and he doesn’t hesitate to hold them, giving them a small squeeze. 

With his one thumb now restricted, his other thumb takes over its brother's repetitive motion, occasionally brushing against the underside of your breast. Although initially accidental and easily forgotten, the movement gradually becomes more intentional. Daring. One particular sweep brushes over the swell of your breast. The next is even higher, just across your nipple.

An involuntary breath leaves you as the slight sensation causes familiar goosebumps to erupt across your skin. Your lips part slightly as you arch into the touch, the curve of your back pushing your hips back into— 

Ah.

A soft puff of breath leaves Nanami’s lips as your ass brushes against his cock, the hard length rubbing up against the cleft. His grip tightens on your hand, and you can feel his responding shudder. He quickly moves his hips back again, keeping his chest pressed up against you instead.

You smile to yourself, a touch wryly. Nanami wasn’t easily worked up, and certainly not in tender moments like this. You can’t help but wonder if this is the product of just the proximity, or something more. 

“I’m flattered that my sleepy morning self has this effect on you,” you drawl, a layer of amusement in your tone that you can’t quite shed. 

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, as if he has anything at all to apologise about. “I…” 

You feel his lips open against the skin of your neck, but he shuts them again. That makes you raise an eyebrow, your eyes blinking open to squint against the steamy bathroom. You try to angle your head to get a look at him, but the angle is difficult. When you try to turn your body to face him properly, however, his arms tighten around your waist, preventing you from doing so. 

It wasn’t like Nanami to be this… reserved. Not this far into your relationship. 

“Nanami?” 

Another gush of air flutters against your wet shoulder, something close to a sigh of resignation. “I dreamt about you,” he finally says, the words imprinted against your skin. “This morning.” 

Ah. 

A wet dream? Hardly something to be self-conscious about, you think. Especially when you were clearly the star of said dream. Nanami was always oddly prudish around certain things, however. Traditional, in some senses.

“Oh? How rude, we hardly know each other.” 

You can almost feel the responding eye-roll in response to your teasing humour. He gives a small squeeze to your intertwined fingers, as if telling you to take this seriously—though you refused to. A dream was a dream, and you were less concerned with the fact he had one and more concerned with what exactly was in it. 

“I’m a thirty-year-old man,” he grumbles. 

“Who’s still human,” you remind him. You push your hips back again, pleased to feel Nanami’s cock still very much hard, nearly pulsing, against the swell of your ass. He exhales a slow, steadying breath, but makes no move to pull his hips away again. “Tell me about it.” 

Another small sigh against your shoulder. You can practically feel his hesitation, unwilling to unveil the explicit nature of his dream just yet. 

You push yourself back against him again, a slight movement of your hips that has his cock pressing a little deeper against your skin. You buy yourself a small grunt in response, a choked sound that hitches in the back of his throat.

“Come on,” you chuckle, the sound a little throaty now. Sensing he needed a little more push, you unlink your hand from his to lay atop his other one, guiding it up to cup your breast properly. “Did I at least look good?” 

“Mm.” He gives your breast a small squeeze; a well-practised, perfect amount of pressure that always makes your thighs clench together. “So beautiful… as always.”

“Where were we?” 

Another hesitation, though shorter this time. He occupies the time by kneading your breast slowly, massaging it almost in his calloused palm. “On a beach. It was just us. White sand, palm trees, lapping waves… the sun was so warm.” 

You smile at the picture he paints in your head. “I’m sure we made it feel warmer.” 

You feel a shuddering breath against the back of your neck before he hums in agreement. You can only imagine that whatever memory of his dream is replaying in his mind is a good one, because he presses his cock against you more firmly. 

“Yes,” he mutters against your nape, before pressing a hungry, hot, open-mouthed kiss against the skin there. “You have no idea what you do to me.” 

By the way he’s groping at your breasts and ever-so-subtly grinding his hips against your ass, you would say you have a general idea. You want to press him for more details on his dream. What did you do to rile him up so? What did he do in the dream to make him pursue you to the shower when he awoke? 

All those thoughts and questions are disappearing from your mind, however, as the hand against your navel is drifting down between your thighs. Your lips part in a soft exhale as he cups your heat, his middle finger running down your slit almost teasingly, smearing the dripping shower water along with your own arousal. 

Another shuddering breath fans against your neck as he dips his middle finger between your folds. “You were so wet, so tight around me,” he whispers, his words almost swallowed up by the sound of the shower and your own heartbeat in your ears. “It was maddening. I… I couldn’t stop.” 

He circles your clit once, causing your hips to twitch and a soft moan to leave your lips, before he dips his finger down, pressing it against your entrance before sinking inside. You both seem to moan simultaneously as your inner walls clench tight around his thick digit.

“You were so…” He swallows thickly around another groan. “…loud. Insatiable.” 

In, out, in, out. He thrusts slowly, languidly, as if savouring every contraction, every syrupy moan that left your plush lips. Slick gathers quickly, and before long the sound of his thrusting finger becomes wetter and wetter. A second finger soon joins the first, his palm pressing against your clit as his ministrations quicken, your thighs shaking in response. The steam of the shower, the heat of Nanami at your back, the fog of lust in your mind and the increasing pulse between your legs—it makes your head swim, your mind hazy and uncoordinated. 

He curses as you grip his fingers particularly tight, as if imagining the sensation around his cock instead. You feel a pressure against your nape, and you dully realise it's his forehead, hot and wet with sweat and water. “Please,” he murmurs, his low voice hot and wanting. “Can I have you? Here?” 

Even after all this time, he still asked—still cared enough to ask—even though your answer was always the same. 

“God, yes,” you’re replying before he’s barely finished his question, every thought in your mind evaporating into the same steam swirling around you. 

You’re leaning forward, arching your back before he even makes any move to position you, both of your palms resting against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. Shower water sprays across your shoulders and the back of Nanami’s neck as his head follows your descent, forehead now planted between your shoulder blades. His fingers don’t stop their ministrations, but his other hand does disappear from your breast. A moment later, you gasp as you feel his fingers slip from you—replaced instead by a familiar pressure. 

His cock, thick and heavy, presses against you, hesitating for only a moment before pressing forward slowly. The thicker head slips past the tight ring of muscle with a sharp stretch, your lips falling open in response as a ragged moan leaves you. No matter how many times you had done this, Nanami’s cock was always a stretch, making each time seem like the first all over again. 

“God,” he gasps, his jaw falling open against your shoulder blade. “P-Perfect… so perfect.” You can feel him practically shaking with restraint as he pushes forward slowly, oh-so-fucking-slowly, until his hips finally meet your rear. As always, he gives you a moment to adjust, no matter how wound up or turned on he is—his one hand bracing against the wall near your own, the other winding back around your waist to circle your clit with slow, languid movements. 

You’re shaking too, you realise, hands slipping on the wet shower wall. You clench tight around his cock despite his attempts to relax you, too wound up and dizzy with arousal to care about the discomfort. Bucking your hips back, you try to press him impossibly deeper, as if you weren’t already full of him. 

He groans at the attempt though, the slight friction you grant him causing his fingers to stutter against your bud. Quickly getting the hint, he pulls back just a few inches before sinking back into you again, just as slowly as before. You both moan again at the delicious drag, before he starts to set a slow, steady rhythm—pulling out a little deeper every time until the tip threatens to slip from you with each thrust. 

You had expected something quick, frantic perhaps. The dream he had seen had clearly riled him up. But Nanami was still Nanami—slow and methodical, passionate and loving. 

Long, hot puffs of breath fan against your neck, matching the slow, sensual rhythm of his hips against you. You can feel his eyebrows knitted against your back, and in your mind's eye, you can already picture his expression perfectly. Flushed skin on his high cheekbones, the sweat on his brow, the slight scrunch of his eyes and parted lips. 

Every thrust pushes deep, his slow pace ensuring that you felt every inch of each push until he bottomed out, only to repeat the whole cycle once more. His hand on the wall slips, bumps against your own, and with trembling fingers he places it on top of yours, pinning it against the wall before intertwining your fingers tightly. 

“I love you,” he groans, his voice thick and gravelly. “I love you, ngh—“ He pushes deep again, stills for a moment as he grinds against you, before withdrawing again. “I love you so much.” 

You meet his every thrust, pushing your hips back until your skin meets his with a satisfying ‘pap’. The slow, deep pace is driving you insane, deliciously perfect and yet wildly maddening. You can feel the heat pool in your gut with every stroke, the warmth blooming hotter and hotter like the slow lap of waves, threatening to consume you. 

You’re greedy, you know. You need more.

You push your hips back in a quicker rhythm and Nanami’s hips stutter in response, his rhythm thrown off. He hisses, clenched teeth brushing against your nape. The fingers on your clit disappear, a strong hand grasping the plush flesh around your hip instead, steadying you. You expect him to stop you or slow your rhythm down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stops thrusting altogether, allowing you complete control of the pace as you fuck yourself on him. 

He’d always allow you to take what you wanted from him. 

“Ah, y-yes, yes—“ you pant, forehead pushing forward to rest against the cool tile. You tilt your hips, angling Nanami’s cock to prod against the exact spot you need him. He curses in response to the harsh clench of your walls around him, his hips bucking forward involuntarily. “Kento—“ 

“Tell me what you, ngh, need,” he grits out, now matching your rhythm until the clap of your flesh starts to match the pour of the water. The hand on your hip slides up, caressing your waist in loving strokes before winding around, palming at your breast again. “A-are you close?” 

“Yes!” You start to push back harder, more frantically. Nanami instantly matches it, thrust for thrust, the head of his cock dragging against your sensitive point with almost pin-point accuracy. He pinches, tweaking your nipple in a way that makes your thighs shake. “Harder, I need it—“ 

You don’t even have to say another word before both of Nanami’s hands disappear, only to grip your hips tightly. You feel the warm of his chest leave your back as he straightens, replaced by the spray of the shower water instead. A moment later, his pace becomes almost punishing, the hard lines of his Adonis belt hitting against the flesh of your rear with a smack. 

You practically reel, something guttural and primal leaving your lips as you arch forward, bracing fully against the tiled wall in front of you. You can feel your flesh ripple, your breasts jolting with the wet smack of flesh against flesh. Even now, he’s careful never to push harder than you need it, but experience and attention allows him to get it perfect. He was always perfect. 

A chorus of ‘just like that’ and ‘yes’ leaves you in a symphony, your eyes rolling and eyelids fluttering simultaneously. It doesn’t take long until you're practically clamping down on his cock like a vice, your lower stomach clenching impossibly tight as ragged, fractured moans tear from your lips. Distantly, you wonder if you’re as loud as you were in his dream—or maybe louder. 

Nanami doesn’t fair any better, harsh grunts and choked groans leaving in him in rhythm with the clap of his hips. With each thrust, it seems his body hunches further inward until he��s practically curled over you, his grip tightening on your hips, thumbs digging into your skin. Deep moans smother against your shoulder as lathers you with kisses, half-formed praises coating your skin with his love. 

“I’m close, my l-lo-“ He chokes up, curses, hips stuttering as he tries to maintain the hard pace. He starts pulling your hips back to meet his, cock plunging seemingly deeper and deeper—  

Stars are exploding behind your eyes a second later, your abdomen clenching and rolling as you cum hard around him. You call out his name, you think, jaw falling slack as Nanami continues to thrust and thrust you through your climax, pushing you toward oversensitivity and fast. You’re clenching down on him tighter and tighter, unable to stop as you babble nonsensically, delirious and drunk on steam and release. 

“S-Shit,” he hisses, his voice barely there, just breathless and torn. “So b-beautiful, so perfect, I love you, I love—“ 

A second later, Nanami’s following you over the edge; a deep, broken moan leaving him as his cock twitches and throbs, spilling into you. He continues to move, his hips erratic and rhythm broken, just bucking disjointedly as his voice cracks and splinters.

You’re trembling, he’s trembling, both of you panting and moaning weakly as Nanami continues to grind against you, albeit slowly. You rest your forehead against the cool tile in front of you for a moment, your hot breath making the ceramic fog up—before Nanami’s arms wind around your waist, pulling you back up and against his chest. 

Your thighs are shaking, body nearly limp in his arms, but he supports you once more easily. Soft kisses and brushes of his nose rain down against the crook of your neck as his hand brushes up and down your stomach, his cock still throbbing weakly inside your warm grip. You let your head loll back against him, a tired, contented smile on your lips. 

You reach a hand up and behind you, fingers fumbling for a moment before his head leans into them. You card your fingers through the short, wet strands behind his ear, a small sigh fluttering against your ear in response.

“We should shower together more often,” you murmur, which earns you a small, slightly breathless chuckle, the rumble of his chest vibrating against your back. 

Eyelashes flutter against your neck as he closes his eyes. “We should.”

“In the evening though,” you add. Between the hot water and well, everything else, your body was sated but drained. “I really could fall asleep now.” 

The idea of stepping out of the warmth of the shower and Nanami’s embrace only to get dressed and continue with whatever you had planned for the day wasn’t an appealing one. As if sensing this, his arms hold you tighter, unwilling to break the moment, or your intimate connection, just yet. 

“Then do,” he murmurs against your ear, before pressing a soft kiss to the shell. “I’ll take you back to bed.” 

And you know he would. You know that if you were to fall limp in his arms right now, he’d carry you; dry you off and settle you amongst the sheets again as if you’d never left them. It wouldn’t even be a question. 

You stay awake though, body still thrumming with remnants of your connection and your muscles at ease. Tilting your head slightly, capturing a glimpse of his profile, you raise an eyebrow.

“…so?” 

Nanami meets your gaze, raising an eyebrow in turn. “So?” 

“Was it as good as your dream?” 

He closes his eyes with a tormented sigh, burying his nose back into your skin. “…it always is.” 

You let out a laugh of disbelief, angling your head to try and face him better despite him seemingly burying his face in your skin deeper, unwilling to meet his gaze. “Always?! How many dreams have you had about me like this?”

You feel a small nip at your neck, just a brush of teeth really, but that seems to tell you that these ‘dreams’ of his were far more a regularity than the stoic sorcerer was willing to let on.  

masterlist.

[murrlizas-art-corner]

late-night utena sketches

[ummmlife]

yukata nanami, save me yukata nanami

[asaka-lucy-dr-rc]

*This is a fan art of Ultimate Ask Blog (@ultimateask).

I didn't know until today that there was a story after Chiaki and Hajime got married in the blog, but as soon as I saw it, this image came to my mind and I drew it on impulse. (I have a drawing in progress and would continue to work on it today, but I couldn't help but draw this RIGHT NOW! 😆)

There is no story posted about the married Hajime and Chiaki actually being together (maybe?), so how they look is totally my imagination, but it made me inexplicably happy to think about their loving married life.

For those interested, here are the original posts:

[courtesanofdeath]

"Everyone on board...to the open seas!"

[bibibbon]

JJK hot take and analysis

One of the biggest hot takes I have is that higumara should of been a female character.

As well all know higumara is supposed to be a parallel to nanami and this goes in multiple ways from the way they interact with yuji to the way they view the non Jujutsu world.

Both sorcerers are regarded as the working class sorcerers.

Their Parallels range from both of them wanting to save people. With higurama this was one of his reasons as to why he was a lawyer and it's the reason as to why his cursed technique centers around the judgement system because he seeks justice no matter how harsh ot hard it may be to achieve it. By his strong sense of justice is where his care/relationship with yuji comes in to play. higumara as a sorcerer and person met his match he saw someone so broken down by the system that, that person believed that he was the problem rather than him being a victim. To higumara, yuji is everything that he failed to protect in that harsh society.

This all parallels with nanami and his ideology of "being a child isn't a sin". Nanami is known as the protector of the youth and he died being that to yuji however, nanami also had his own fair share of guilts and as much as he tried to protect yuji from the curse of his last words by encouraging him to finish the job he only makes yuji bare another burden of carrying nanami's pain with him (an accidental yet ironic thing).

Both characters last words and death include passing their will down onto yuji and trusting him to finish the job and continue living.

Both characters are well known for overworking themselves and both of this overwork could of been seen in a selfish way. Nanami took this job to escape from the cruelty of Jujutsu society and only wanted to gain enough to move away and live somewhere like Malaysia but higumara wanted to protect others with all he can and shed lights on the corruption/harshness of the system.

Both characters turning points end up because they went back to their roots. Even though they thought that they changed and escaped from their pasts that catches up to them and drags them down a heavily familiar route all over again. With higurama it's in his fight with yuji that he remembers why he even took said lawyer path and denied the path of a judge and with nanami it's how he came back into Jujutsu society to then meet someone so similar to haibara that he chose to dedicate his life into helping protect the youth.

Both are also classified as grade 1 sorcerers.

Both ended up dying in shibuya but higurama seemed fulfilled he accepted that he did what he could and it was enough for him, however nanami wanted more it was his death that made him value living and made him look towards the future towards a brighter path than he will never live.

Both feel heavily guilty about the things they have done especially when it comes to looking at the injured or killed. Both of them describe it as awful or are disgusted by this. We can see it with nanami in shibuya with ijichi and with higurama with the two people he killed.

Both deeply care for their mentoes and have a good relationship with them. Nanami and ino. Higurama and his mentee.

Higuramas death makes yuji Futher solidify his beliefs allowing him to state," Iam a Jujutsu sorcerer" whereas nanami's is what destroyes yujis resolve and leads to his breakdown in shibuya and then later on gives him strength to continue.

I think that higurama should of been a female character with this development as I think yuji lacks dynamic with older female characters and considering that character in the culling games arc directly are there to critique something about Japan I think that higurama could of been used to show the inequality between men and woman in Japan and any female problems that Japan itself faces. Also Iam a sucker for yuji having some maternal figure

[pseudowho]

Glory Glory: Nanami Kento

An absolutely unhinged delicious "Help, I'm stuck!" series, where the reader is taken care of by the JJK guys.

18+ as always. Pure smut.

*Visual art of Reader/Nanami positions, link enclosed*

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You were never able to concentrate fully when sent on a mission with Nanami Kento, and it drove you to absolute distraction. The broad taper of his shoulders and nipped waist; the way his thighs strained his tan trousers dangerously tightly as he moved to sweep Curses like a minefield; the slow, considered, gravelly voice. You remained professional...but clumsy.

Already blushing after Kento complimented you smoothly on landing the killing blow on  the Curse, now crumbled and decaying before you, you sought the Cursed item that had been drawing such powerful monsters in. Roaming through the remnants of this crumbling city-edge mansion, you headed into a dining room, feeling the thrum of nearby Cursed energy that told you you were nearing your goal.

Your hand brushed the brickwork of an old chimney stack-- gotcha, you thought, leaning down to try to look up it, unable to find the right angle. Sitting on your bottom, and shuffling backwards to look directly up the chimney, you reached in, feeling something small and fabric wrapped, wedged into old brickwork. You began to work to free the item.

"In here!" you yelled, as you heard Kento call for you. Your yelling brought a crumble and cloud of soot and brick dust onto your face, and as you coughed, pulling the cursed item free, part of the chimney stack collapsed inwards against you, pinning you in place, bottom still sat on the floor below you.

You heard hard footsteps towards the room as you shrieked, Kento calling for you in concern. You coughed and spluttered, glasses covered in debris, stuck in the dark. You felt Kento approach, hearing him drop to his knees, and blushing as his hands lightly grazed your waist and hips, checking for injury.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his usual calm and considered self. He almost sounded like he was holding back a laugh, you thought.

"No, but I...I don't think I can get out. I'm stuck," you complained, mortified by your own lack of care. You heard Kento hum to himself.

"That is a problem," he toned, low and sardonic, "what shall we do with you?" You blushed, heat creeping up your cheeks at the promise in his voice. You swallowed.

"Uhm...Kento? Can you get me out?"

"Well, yes. I absolutely can." Silence. Kento's hands were still on your hips, fingers tapping, slow and thoughtful.

As you opened your mouth to speak again, clenching your thighs together, not unnoticed by Kento, he spoke again.

"But, why rush? After all," he toned, voice silky smooth as his fingers squeezed your hips appreciatively, "we might even see this as...serendipitous." You let out a soft gasp, squeaking as you felt his warm, broad palms reach underneath you to squeeze your arse, the touch drawn-out and lingering.

"I've waited for a long time, you know," he intoned, musing out loud, "all those missions together. All the times I've caught you staring. How the hairs stand up on your arms when I talk to you."

You trembled as you felt his hands wander to the front of your trousers, reaching down to deftly unbutton and unzip your them. You throbbed, thighs clenching and eager.

"I can almost taste you aching for me," Kento teased, thrilled by how you shook in silent anticipation. "It would be cruel to let you suffer like this any longer." Your eyes were closed now, lost in your dream of Kento taking charge being realised.

Kento felt his cock twitch against his thigh as he slipped his hand down the front of your trousers, humming in appreciation at the laced edge of your underwear, before grazing his fingers against your pussy, admiring the growing wetness of your underwear. His mouth watered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

Feeling your thighs clamp around his hand, holding it in place, Kento chuckled as he heard a breathy moan from within the chimney stack. He continued to stroke you, increasing the pressure just enough that you felt a distant soft ache building in your clit.

"Kento-- I-- please--"

"Lovely manners," he groaned, palming himself through his trousers as he slowly started to edge his fingers out of your trousers. You let out a frustrated squeak and a wiggle, and Kento bit his lip to suppress another laugh.

"Ask nicely," he teased, admiring the soft spread of your thighs against the floor, running his other hand up and down them to delight in the plushness of you. He pursed his lips in mirth as he heard you huff at him behind the chimney stack.

Your complaining stopped, however, when you felt him grip your trousers and eagerly peel them off you, along with your underwear, leaving your bottom half totally naked in one shockingly bold move.

You were speechless, blushing wildly and flustered, and you heard fabric-y shuffles against the floor, before feeling your bottom lifted by strong arms and settled onto Kento's muscular, planed chest. You squeaked as he slapped your bum in appreciation, the sting making you moan.

"I hope you know this is me asking you out for dinner," he soothed. Kento lifted your bottom again, high enough for him to wriggle under and delve his tongue into your quivering heat, wetting his lips at the sight of your soft folds and full round arse.

"Although...at least the first time, I'll be eating out without you." You had barely a moment to process before Kento released your weight, forcing your pussy down onto his face. You cried out, feeling your clit immediately hit Kento's chin, his tongue appreciatively licking a long stripe between your entrance and clit, nose nuzzling into your fluttering hole.

Pleasure hit you in deep throbs as Kento rocked your hips back and forth on his face, encouraging you to ride him, your knees and thighs splayed out at either side of his head. Allowing you to roll your clit against his chin and lips until you were mewling, your essence running down his neck to decorate his collar, Kento shifted his mouth down to pucker his lips firmly around your clit, flicking his tongue quickly against it.

You shivered, begging, "-- oh god, Kento-- just keep doing that, that's perfect, I can't-- I can't--" Kento carried on, nose still nuzzling into your pussy and tongue flicking against your clit, pleasuring you with absolute practiced ease. He groaned as he felt your thighs clamp around his head, the vibrations sending you over the cliff's edge and you fell, stomach swooping and clenching as you came with a cry, gasping and coughing as more brick dust collapsed onto your face.

Kento nuzzled into you, gripping your thighs affectionately with strong forearms, rocking you from side to side as he squeezed them to the sides of his head, cuddling your lower half to him. Lifting you off, and planting a kiss on your folds, Kento lifted his tie to wipe your cum off his face.

"Is that a yes to dinner, then?" He asked, laughing as you tried to kick at him.

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Also arriving tonight on scheduled blogs:

Kamo Choso, Higuruma Hiromi

[ishihirasenma]

so! i won't be telling the story of dcst's drama CD anymore; there's no need because my friend found an english translation of the whole thing here! (ง ˙ ˘ ˙ )ว

i've added an audio clip in the video link below of only The Funniest part out of the whole story that everyone just has to hear because it can't be appreciated otherwise lmao

please read the translation up to this part, and then watch the video here! ᕕ( ◕ヮ◕)ᕗ

+ some notes:

ryuusui normally refers to himself as "o-re" but he uses "boku" here and speaks politely and formally, meanwhile ukyo normally uses "boku" but has to use "o-re sama" here ahaha (≧∇≦)

[deadbaguette]

‘A familiar warmth’ the Getou-Family

Part 2 of my art series of for @missingn000 and their fic ‘The Phantom Guardian’

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

[c0rrupted-mov]

hi gretaaaaa ^_^ what r ur chiaki hcs if i may ask...... i would love to hear em :3

HAII hello!!!! ^^ so nice to get this ask from u omg I have so many… lets start. idk if i should hide this under the cut or not

• first of all: bisexual and demisexual. pretty self explanatory and also quite a projection lol • I have this au(??) where she survives the dr3 execution and its pretty much canon for me so. yeah when I talk ab her she is alive and well. TO ME!!!! and about that: she has a lot of scars on her body because of her dr3 execution and has worsened eyesight in her right eye because of the injury it suffered • a very basic one but she is chubby • has severe depression (even before the tragedy) and ptsd. I think lot of her behaviors make more sense if you put depression in mind. also autistic • her depression is also kinda the reason why she sleeps all the time. uses sleep to cope • a lot headcanons about her upbringing I kind of borrowed from sorren. hi sorren. some of them are that she’s chihros’s sister and that she had an abusive mother • this is kinda canon I just feel like it’s not explored enough in canon and fanon. views everything through the lens of a video games. hungry? time to start The cooking mini game (she’s quite bad at it). sleepy? she’ll close her eyes until the sleep bar is full. need to socialize? remember all previous experiences and books she has read about communicating w people and try to choose the best dialogue options so that their relationship bar stays full. after bonding and becoming closer w someone she gets the “new relationship level” achievement. etc etc I think its very funny • about socialization. I kind of borrowed it from a fanfic but also it’s a bit of projection. as a child she read books about the "right way" to interact with people. it wasn’t super useful but she still sometimes references it in her mind. • has insane amount of gaming related shirts. • really loves puzzle games. although has grown to dislike tetris post game for obvious reasons. this is probably the only game she doesn’t like atp • despite being very sleepy and easily tired she has some tendencies to overwork herself • also a quite obvious one but she has a lot of troubles with self care • has sooo much minecraft merch and minecraft related things… the type of person to diy her windows to look like minecraft ones

im pretty sure i have many more but this is all i can remember rn

[valkyrievanessa]

I have finished both chapters focused in Nanami in Punishing Gray Raven, "Her Last Bow" and "The Arc Beyond" and wow, maybe they are the Best chapters of the game yet, Nanami is just an amazing character and beyond anything i as expecting of her.

Nanami is the Sagemachina, the Messiah of all machines, the first awaken and the one that will bring conscience to the machines and breaking all the stereotypes about sensient machines, Nanami is just the most kind and lovable character of the game, if any war break between humanity and machines, it will be against her wishes.

Nanami and Haicma relationship is so kind and pure, like, Nanami gave Haicma her name and Nanami is everything to Haicma, more than a Messiah, Haicma is Nanami friend. I tried to think about them as mother and daughter but it don't work, is not something like that. Just friendship and maybe sisters (It doesn't look right to think them as lovers, nanami is too much childish for that, don't feel right to me to ship her with anyone).

Haicma will always be on Nanami side, on the infinite possibilities of futures, in all of them, Nanami and Haicma are friends, are together, and this is kinda beautiful, specially thinking about how both of them are the first awaken machines.

The Church of Machina are new villains, it look like the punishing virus was not enough hahaha. Nanami may be their Messiah, their sagemachina, but the church will start a war against humanity and are humanity enemies, something that Nanami wants to avoid.

I love both this chapters so much, they have no right to be this good, some of the Best takes of machine obtaining conscience i ever saw.

[rmorde]

NANAMIN!!!!!!!

NA-NA-MIN! NA-NA-MIN!

NA-na-NA-na-NA-NA-MIN!

NA-na-NA-na-NA-NA-MIN!

NA-na-NA-na-NA-NA-MIN!