Gabbag00l - Gabs

gabbag00l

1 year ago

take a guess who y’all think this is about 🤭

★　*　　°　　　　🛰 　°. 🌓　•　　.°•　　　🚀

you hated pet names.

they were cringey and you fought back the urge to gag whenever you heard your friends’ partners refer to them as “babe” or “kitten” or “honey.”

that was…until he came into your life and let the names fly off his tongue like nothing. it didn’t take long for it to fall into a habit.

if he wanted to start a convo with you, he’d say “mama, can i talk to you for a sec?” and wait for you to respond, face blank like he only said a call of your name.

if he were greeting you, he would wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you into his chest, mumbling a “hey baby” into your hair.

if he was calling you over it was “babe c’mere!”

and if you had just done something for him, whether it be cooking his food, packing his gym bag, or anything, he would give you a kiss to your cheek, squeezing you against his side with a “thank you, mama” leaving his lips before he turns your chin to give you another one, this time a soft one on your lips.

yeah, ok so maybe nicknames weren’t all that bad…at least not when they were coming out of his mouth.

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gabbag00l

5 months ago

If a city in North America has “good public transit” what that translates to is “it’s possible to live without a car here but you’ll still wish it was way better”

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gabbag00l

3 weeks ago

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black!Fem Reader

Rating/CW: Just a fluffy drabble of Nanami Kento loving you.

Summary: Early morning musings.

a/n: I've really been suffering from writer's block these past few months. The words come and go at a pace that's maddening, but thankfully, they stayed long enough for me to write this little piece.

JJK Masterlist | Divider: @saradika-graphics

"How did I get so lucky?"

It's the question that surfaces in Nanami's mind as he watches you sleep beside him, early morning light casting gentle shadows across your features. Your breathing is steady, peaceful, a barely there rumble with every inhale that he’s memorized over countless mornings like this one. Just as he’s done many times before, he traces the outline of your form, fingertips ghosting over your skin without disturbing you.

In those first few mornings of your relationship, your eyes would flutter open just from the proximity of his touch, catching him in his admiration. He wouldn’t bother to hide the blush, you would throw him a sleepy smile, then succumb to sleep again. Now, many mornings later, you’ve grown accustomed to his gentle exploration, allowing him to follow the curve of your shoulder, reconnecting the constellations that pepper your brown skin without stirring from your dreams.

In this position, while you sleep on your stomach, he can admire the subtle roll of skin on your neck where it meets your shoulder—a gentle landscape formed by the angle of your head against the silk pillow. It may be his own imaginings, but he can already smell the Shea butter from your neck, warming from the rising sun and wafting to tickle his nose in a half-remembered dream that lingers many hours into his work day.

Your diamond earrings glint in the morning light—beautiful studs you refuse to remove despite his concerns. He’s learned to love this small token of rebellion, unafraid to admit that the way the jewelry complements your skin makes you look particularly ethereal in the waking hours. The sunlight hits these diamonds at the right angle, splintering light in a mix of purple and green that plays across the curve of your cheek, as if nature is adorning you herself.

Even while unconscious, you are beautiful.

He traces up, fingertips brushing your lobe before smoothing through edges that have smeared on your skin like delicate wisps of morning fog. They’re perfect, tiny coils and curls that defy rule and frizz along your hairline, peeking from the cream satin bonnet. That bonnet, somehow still attached to you despite how wildly you sleep, showcases to him all the care you take with yourself, all the traditions passed sacred to you that he’s been allowed to learn, to witness, to cherish.

And god, how he cherishes the uninhibited abandon in which you sleep—the complete trust spoken in the way you sprawl across a mattress that was once solely his. Your cheek is creased from your pillowcase and hands, the corners of your lashes crystallized with evidence of your dreams, and your lips—slightly parted, pillowed with relaxation—glisten at one corner with moisture you have long stopped being embarrassed about in his presence.

It’s you in your purest form—unguarded, unfiltered, displaying a beauty more profound than anything the waking world gets to see. It’s you without makeup, you without measured words, underneath social performances, practiced smiles, and expectations—the raw truth of you, morning breath and all.

Just his. It’s a privilege so deep that it makes his chest ache, the gratitude overwhelming.

"How did I get so lucky?"

Nanami remembers the strict parameters he once set around relationships—the necessary boundaries, the premeditated time commitments, the emotional distance he maintained without thinking. Work—for as firm as he is about clocking out on time—came first, then necessities, then, if time allowed and he had the mental stamina, connection. For him, it was efficient. But terribly lonely.

Naturally, you shifted it all without trying.

The memory of seeing you for the first time still replays in his mind—fresh as the day it happened, enhanced by his own untempered affection that grows over time. He’s carried an unspoken envy for his parents’ love-at-first-sight story his entire life, a curmudgeon of his own making that could also speak of self-sabotage in relationships that never lasted. Surely they were exaggerating? Love at first sight? As if the cosmos aligned at the right moment to bring Mr. and Mrs. Nanami together? Nanami refused to believe it.

And yet he’ll tell anyone who will listen that every grievance he held about the concept evaporated the moment he saw you. Surrounded by greenery and the stifling heat of a plant nursery, perfect textured hair framing your face that pursed with contemplation, neck curved over a large Monstera Deliciosa. A sage sundress that fluttered over your form like gossamer wings catching the sunlight, the shimmer of your sunscreen across the expanse of your shoulders like dewdrops, a cock in your hip as you studied the plant only made you stand out as sublime elegance amongst the foliage.

Admittedly, he remembers feeling only embarrassment when he reached for the plant before his mind could truly register your presence—his original quest into the nursery solely to find a gift for his secretary, who was becoming a new mother.

He remembers the embarrassment flaring liquid hot in his chest when your eyes flashed with surprise and indignation that he would take something you had mentally staked claim to. He remembers how disorienting it all was—the sudden awareness of you as if the rest of the nursery had faded to shadows. Your brow had lifted in disbelief as you rolled your eyes and brushed past him, the subtle scent of what he now knows as Shea butter lingering in the humid air. Nanami found himself frozen, the Monstera forgotten in his hands, his perfectly ordered thoughts scattering like leaves in a sudden breeze.

He remembers how that white hot embarrassment quickly morphed into something unfamiliar, fleeting in previous relationships but never as prominent as in that moment—a flutter in his stomach, a tightness in his chest, and a desperation that he’s thankful to have embraced.

“I’m buying a gift for a new mother, but maybe I can find something that would not require so much care,” he’d said, the words tumbling from his mouth like a wobbling newborn calf as he watched you stop, turn to face him, guarded eyes taking him in. “Do you have any suggestions?”

He remembers how his heart hammered against his ribcage as he waited for your response, how the simple act of breathing seemed almost impossible. How utterly mortifying it was to realize that in thirty seconds, you had changed everything for him. How unbelievably confused he felt when the cosmos he mocked aligned for him when he ran into you at a bookstore days later, giving him the courage to ask you for coffee, for your number, for a date, and the many that followed to create the perfect cacophony of love.

"How did I get so lucky?"

It’s almost ridiculous how fortunate he is. How he gets to hear you laugh—genuine and unrestrained, choked around a snort when he’s said something particularly dry. How he gets to hear your musings in the comfort of your home—the melodic cadence of your humming when you bake, the unprecedented sailor mouth that would make his mother faint, the conversations you have with your dog as he follows you to the backyard. Every day, despite being subject to it many times, it feels like the very first time.

The novelty of it will never fade, because Nanami still calculates how to make you laugh so hard your lashes bubble with tears. He still asks what song you’re humming, knowing you’ll always reply “I made it up”. He still pretends to be shocked that the way a curse word flies from your mouth doesn’t make him unnaturally turned on. He still raises both brows when he hears you conversing with the dog, even though he has embraced the same habit.

"How did I get so lucky?"

The variation of thought comes naturally as his fingers fall back to his side, careful not to disturb you. There was a time when luck meant nothing to him—when grief was the only emotion he allowed himself to fully embrace, a painful reminder of his humanity when everything else felt hollow.

There was only one person who had truly seen him—experienced and witnessed the raw parts of the awkward growth through puberty, commiserated over failed crushes, shared late nights playing video games, and made him laugh until his stomach hurt. When that person was ripped away before their life could truly begin, it left Nanami in denial for so long that isolation became his sanctuary.

Each subsequent attempt at connection through romantic means only reinforced what experience had taught him—that opening a sliver of himself inevitably led to another goodbye, another confirmation that vulnerability was simply an invitation for devastation.

So it’s odd how that worry sprouted in the youth of your relationship with him but was never strong enough to take root. He was healthier, stronger even, and intelligent enough to know that you would not settle for someone who only loved in half-truths. For the first time, the fear of losing someone by not trying, outweighed the fear of the pain that might come with trying and failing.

When Nanami had the choice between protecting himself and never knowing you completely, or risking that devastation for the chance to build something real, he found himself making a choice that his deceased friend would have encouraged with a smile that could make the sun rise.

His efforts have paid off.

As the world wakes up and the noise of cars increases from the cracked window, Nanami counts his lucky stars that he tried. As he watches you sleep, he feels something swell in his chest—a fullness that once scared him but now feels like coming home after a long day.

Soon, he’ll slip out of bed like he does every morning, each day a ritual of thankfulness for the life he almost denied himself. Soon he’ll walk into the kitchen and measure coffee grounds with the same precision he applies to everything, his eyes drifting to the mug you always use—chipped on the handle, crafted from an impromptu class you dragged him to as a second date. He’d been so focused on not embarrassing himself with clumsy hands that he’d missed the exact moment you decided he was worth keeping.

Soon he will slide a fresh cup to you across the counter, taking in your ruffled form—bonnet still secure, eyes heavy with sleep, a blanket wrapped around you because you’re always cold, even in summer. The sight will catch in his throat like it always does, you trusting and vulnerable, showing a version of yourself that transforms his once sterile apartment into a home where love blooms in every corner.

But for now, he watches as you grumble and smack your lips, rolling over until your head is resting on his chest. He blooms with heat, an iridescent sensation that radiates outward from that exact spot, like your memory lives beneath his skin and thrums to life when you’re close. You wrap an arm around him, whether it’s to test the firmness of a pillow or to make sure it’s still him, he’s not quite sure. But it means nothing when you fall back into slumber, snoring softly against him, your breath a metronome that’s synched with his over time.

The rush of it all settles into his bones like it does every morning as he relaxes, his hand tracing the column of your spine absentmindedly.

You chose him. From the moment you rolled your eyes in that nursery, some invisible thread connected you both, and despite it all, that thread held tight. Out of all possibilities, out of all potential paths, you chose this one—with him. Not out of necessity or convenience, but with deliberate, purposeful love that continues to choose him, minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day.

"How did I get so lucky?"

“Kento,” you slur against his chest, voice gravelly with sleep, “stop thinking so loud so I can sleep. It’s too early.”

It’s almost eleven in the morning. But Nanami can do nothing but chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, marveling as your curls tickle his nose before his fingers return to their pilgrimage across your body. Each brush of him against you comes with an unspoken promise—that he will never take this for granted, that he will chose you every morning just as purposefully as you chose him.

"How did I get so lucky?"

Who knows. But Nanami will spend every day making sure he deserves it.

Thanks for reading!

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In celebration of reaching 3,000 followers on Tumblr, it seems ayyypee has decided to host her very first collab!!! The theme is Celebrity Scandal!

What are your favorite celebrity anime men, women or you (the reader) up to these days? New relationships? Maybe a nasty breakup or divorce. Cheating? Leaks, Murder, Cover ups?! There's so much to report on and so little time. But rest assured, The Jujutsu Journal will find out. Someone is always watching.

Status: OPEN

Discord 18+ - Twitter 𝘽𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂: 𝙄𝙏'𝙎 𝘼 𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙉𝘿𝘼𝙇!!

𝙍𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨

✩˚｡⋆ This is an 18+ collab! Minors dni

✩˚｡⋆ All characters portrayed must be 18+ (No aging up of minor characters pls, but if there is a canon timeskip, that's fine. Just write them as their adult selves.)

✩˚｡⋆ It does not have to be only an x Reader pairing!

✩˚｡⋆ Open to ANY fandom (Even though it says Jujutsu Journal lol)

✩˚｡⋆ You can join with as many fandoms and as many characters as you wish

✩˚｡⋆ Both NSFW and SFW works are allowed!

✩˚｡⋆ If you use any topics that need a warning, please use warnings and tag appropriately!

✩˚｡⋆ That being said, dark content is fine as long as it is not any of the following: Non-con, r*pe, beastiality, incest/stepcest, pedophilia

✩˚｡⋆ No particular format or word length required. And you can even do art! Just let me know what you’ll be doing!

𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙊 𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍

✩˚｡⋆ To join, please send me an ask, or you can dm me! Also I'm nosy so let me know what your idea(s) are! Like Stalker!Paparazzi Sukuna x Reader LMAO)

✩˚｡⋆ The deadline for submission for the collab is June 30th

✩˚｡⋆ I would also REALLY appreciate it if people reblogged this post so that it's boosted!

✩˚｡⋆ Please tag me in your works and use the tag: #JujutsuJournal after you're done. I'll add it to my Masterlist and reblog it on my account! I know the tagging system is bonkers right now though, so if tagging doesn't work, you can just send me an ask.

✩˚｡⋆ If you have any other questions, just let me know!

𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

𝙂𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙥 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙢𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙍𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝘿𝙪𝙩𝙮:

JUJUTSU KAISEN

@tojiscumdumpster - stalker!model!naoya x journalist!blackreader

@bungalowbear - stuntman!toji x actress!reader

@lost-immortality - DELICIOUS FANART (Characters updated later)

@lemonlover1110 - toji x reader, sukuna x reader

@xo2dee - actress!yuki x actress!reader

@yasu-1234 - tailor!higuruma x movie star!reader

Banner Credit: @benkeibear!

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gabbag00l

1 year ago

theres a tiktok of a woman wearing lingerie her bf got her and when he gets home and sees her and literally drops everything to the ground and falls to his knees i just think that is so nanami and reiner coded... like wow that's a real man i've never seen one in the wild before

Gabbag00l - Gabs

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