#Reversed tropes challenge

[fanfictionlibrary01]

Our Challenges are events in which we challenge our writers on the server to write fanfics for prompts, quote prompts, a certain tittle, a certain theme etc. and...

We have a new Challenge for you!

This challenge, which will run for the duration of april, is all about tropes - but not just any tropes. Nope!

Like how in April in the northern hemisphere the weather does what it wants, we did what we wanted and mixed up some tropes to bring some fresh wind into the world of tropes!

There are 10 reversed tropes for you to pick from. You need to write one to participate - but you can write for all of them if you like!

You can begin with planning and writing your work starting on the day of the announcement.

General rules:

For each trope work, the word count has to be at least 500 words. Whether you write a longfic, multichapter work or a oneshot is up to you.

You need to at least write for one trope. How many others you decide to write for is up to you!

You can't use two tropes in one work.

Tropes:

Soulenemy AU (Original trope: Soulmate AU)

Last Kiss (Original trope: First Kiss)

Too many beds (Original trope: Only one bed)

Lost Families or Found Foes (Original trope: Found Family)

It's not my fault (Original trope: It's my fault)

True Hate's Slap (Original trope: True Love's Kiss)

I should have been worse (Original trope: I should have been better)

Real Dating (Original trope: Fake Dating)

Ruin-it (Original trope: Fix-it)

Accidental Encounter (Original trope: Fated Encounter)

Posting time will start on the first April, but you can start planning and writing now.

All Challenge works written by server members on Ao3 for our challenges are gathered in our Ao3 Collections. You can check out works from our earlier challenges there too ^^

Come join our Discord Server if you want a place to chat about your ideas and your progress with other writers and to be added to the collection for this Challenge!

In any case, please credit us if you participate in this Challenge.

Happy writing!

[wwreversetropefest2024]

Happy Thanksgiving! Here's a lil tasty treat for you 🥧

Thinking by @my-castles-crumbling (T, 1/1)

➡️READ ON AO3

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Wizarding World Reverse Trope Fest

Wizarding World Reverse Trope Fest 2024:

A Study of Muggle Tropes: One Bed by New_Ponyo - E, WIP - When Draco Malfoy discovers the muggle one bed trope during a Friday film night at Granger's flat, he realizes it is the perfect way to make his relationship with Hermione more than just a friendship. Diving head first into research, Draco tries to enact the one bed trope on several occasions. What Draco did not take into account and what the muggle films and books did not mention is magic.

Break Me In by allofthelights11 - E, one-shot - We all know why we're here. Forget the setup. Forget the preamble and a backstory. We're just here for the instant gratification. After being forced to admit they want to shag due to an accidental run-in with Veritaserum (there's your setup/preamble/backstory), Draco and Hermione make it as far as an empty conference room before getting right down to business.

The Anti-Marriage Law by Gr8t_78 - E, one-shot - Nobody is going to tell Hermione Granger she can't get married. And if playboy Auror Draco Malfoy is going to pretend to marry her, it'll just prove her point to the Minister of Magic. It's the principle of the thing!

Crash Into Me (Or, There Were No Beds!) by Gr8t_78 - E, one-shot - Draco watched her carefully from the corners of his eyes to gauge her reaction. She eyed the CD player rather nervously. When the third song began, the blush returned to her cheeks. This is the song, Draco thought with a wicked smirk. Let's just find out what gets Granger's knickers in a twist. You come crash, into me And I come into you And I come into you In a boys dream By the time the song, with all of its references to being tied up and hiking up skirts and wearing nothing was finished, Draco was finding the car rather stuffy and overly hot himself. Oh. Oh. “You know, I think I saw a Beatles CD–” Draco said, loosening his collar as Hermione cranked up the fan and blasted herself with the vents. “That would be perfect, thanks,” she said in a pitch at least one octave higher than her usual voice.

Perfect from Far Away by TheMaryScribbler - E, one-shot - It all started with the brush of Granger’s hand against his. The barest touch lit up every nerve in Draco’s palm as if she had burned her brand in him, the feeling lingering long after she was out of sight. … Malfoy’s hand clasped hers, ensuring bare flesh touched flesh and every plan that Hermione made for her life imploded with the force of a dying star. … When Draco and Hermione discover they are each other’s soulmate they only have one question: why can’t they ever manage to be in the same place?

Many Little Deaths by slytherindiaries - E, one-shot - Hermione Granger gets orders to train Draco Malfoy, to use him against Voldemort's regime. She thinks he's useless, he couldn't even kill Dumbledore knowing it would save his life. But Draco isn't who Hermione thinks he is. He's dangerous, cunning, brilliant; a Slytherin after all. And Hermione finds she may like this version of Draco...maybe a little too much.

Draco's Sugar Mommy by Dizzle00 - E, 3 chapters - “I can take are of you, you know,” she murmured, stroking her thumb across his slit, gathering the precum there and pressing on his frenulum. His hips jumped with the sudden need to fuck something. “I have both the desire and the means.” “Fuck,” he hissed. “Please, Hermione. Please please please.” She smiled, a cat-like smirk, her fingers opening his fly and pulling his cock out all the way. She licked her lips looking down at it, encircling it with her hand, gifting him with a long, tight stroke. Oh Merlin, he was going to come all over her, right here in Potter’s sitting room.

Top or Bottom? by havesomewords - E, 3 chapters - An overnight mission to nab a smuggler takes our reluctant Auror partners north to dreary York, where they encounter an endangered dragon egg, far too many Vikings, and absolutely excruciating sexual tension.

It Comes with Practice by MarinaJune - E, one-shot - Draco Malfoy has changed for the better. Hermione sees it. Feels it. Against all prior expectations, he likes her. A lot. She likes him, too. It's hard not to when he says and does almost all the right things. Almost. There are some areas where he falls a bit...short.

where wolves fear to prey by SultryNuns - E, one-shot - Hermione returned to her Eighth Year at Hogwarts changed, a newly made werewolf desperate to evade detection. The issue is, Draco Malfoy has changed too, and he's paying an unavoidable amount of attention. Some pushy prats just won’t let sleeping dogs lie.

UN/BOUND by Hanniesalwaysreading - E, WIP - “Hermione Granger, as I live and breathe.” The stranger's mild voice didn’t match the violence of his hands. “Who–what–” was all Hermione managed to choke out before he grabbed her by the roots of her hair, jerking her back towards him with enough force to tear strands from her scalp. “You went and put on the necklace, didn’t you? Stupid Mudblood. You’ve damned yourself straight to hell.” — Or, Hermione gets trapped in a soul bond, and Draco helps her break it. Written for the 2024 Wizarding World Reverse Trope Fest. [WARNINGS: RAPE/NON-CON]

i bloom, i grow (i glow) by B_LovedHunter - E, WIP - “I… Neville, I need flowers.” He frowned and dropped his hands. “Well, I can certainly help you with that. But your letter made it seem like you had a much more dire issue.” There was no point in keeping anything from Neville. “Something is wrong with me,” she whispered. “Neville. I wake up hungry and I want to eat flowers. I keep dreaming of being a tree, a flower— vines.” “...What?” or, Hermione's concept of love has always been twisted due to her experiences. When she confesses her love to Draco Malfoy, something inside her snaps and she develops an appetite for all the flowers.

The Fate of Our Circumstance by kaycares - E, WIP - Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy - This notice serves as a reminder that 26th September of this year begins the fifth year of your marriage. If a healthy child is not produced by the following 26th of September, your marriage will be dissolved, and new spouses will be assigned to each of you, per the agreement in the Repopulation Act. - The Ministry of Magic

Close Combat by morgan_magic - E, 4 chapters - Draco most certainly does not fancy Hermione, and to prove it, he's started a prank war. After he moves their dormitories opposite each other overnight, he not only begins a nasty game of one-upmanship, but the perfect close conditions to finally make their sexual tension snap.

She Will Be Loved by Midnight_shooting_Star - E, WIP - “I don’t think you're here for a fairy tale book, Mister Malfoy.” She started to sort through the stack of books. “I think it’s time you took your leave from my store.” “Miss Granger, I didn’t come all this way to be turned away.” “I will not be mocked like you did to me at Hogwarts,” She warned. “Yet you defended me in some ways during our sixth year.” He spoke calmly, tapping his fingers on the desk. Hermione glanced up to him looking at him through her dark rose-colored glasses. “You saved us at your parents' Manor so, call it even.” “And at the manor, I know something happened when my aunt carved into your arm. I’m right, aren't I?” He asked, waiting for her response. “Out now!” Hermione growled out under her breath. Draco waved his left finger, “Tsk, tsk, your fangs are showing.” Hermione covered her mouth, “I said get out now!” Her voice was muffled as she reached up and grabbed her wand from her bun with her right hand. Draco held up his hands in defeat. “I get it, but just so you know: I would watch how far you let things go. If you continue letting it fester without trying to control it you will lose yourself, little Bibliophile Princess.” [WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, CHARACTER DEATH]

Last, First by Sessediz - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger thinks that she's read up enough on proper etiquette and is eager to display her skills to her longtime crush, but there seems to be some key differences of proper decorum in the wizarding world from her Muggle comportment classes.

so hot you're hurting my feelings by cosmic_kate - E, one-shot - Draco knows following Granger is never a good idea, though it seems to be some kind of compulsive habit for him—one that pretty much always ends the same way. Him: fucked. He’d followed right behind her in marks years one through five—each failure resulting in a cane across his hands and a disappointed glare from his father. He’d followed her to Hagrid’s hut back in third year, which earned him her wicked right hook. And now, he’s followed her into the hollowed out and evidently possessed old charms classroom under the pretense of fixing it up. Draco Malfoy Tries A Good Deed. His punishment? Heatstroke.

This fest is ongoing.

[jilychallenge]

Nostalgic Trope November - Jily Challenge

Like there wouldn't have been a Harry Potter without James and Lily getting together (and getting some fun action ;-) there wouldn't be fandom in 2023 if it didn't all start way back when the HP books were still being written... Back then, James asked Lily out incessantly, but truly ALL THE BLOODY TIME, how they could ever play spin the bottle is a mystery. They frequently swapped bodies due to potion mishaps, we expect because of all those nerves about who to ask to the Yule Ball coming up, so very soon.... This month we're celebrating the fun that old tropes can be, but we appreciate fandom has evolved to next level story telling as well. Therefore any *Classic Trope* we give you, you are free to Put it Down, Flip it and Reverse it as much as it pleases you... (we will only serve out M-preg in case of a special request ;-)

how to sign up & more information under the cut

Each pair of creators will receive a prompt from us to spark your ideas. You are always free to use and interpret your prompt as loosely as you want.

how to enter:

please reblog this post by the 31st of October tagging with what you'd like to make (for example #one-shot, #writing, #art, #drawing, #mood board, #playlist etc. You can be as vague as or specific as you like)

At the beginning of the month, we will assign you a partner and you will receive your prompt (here or on JilyChallenge Discord). Keep an eye on this blog or Discord and please check your messages on Tumblr.

Each creator makes their own creation, collabs are encouraged but not the aim of this challenge. 

(optional) please follow the jilychallenge Tumblrblog and @jilychallenge2023 for updates.

(optional) join the Jily Challenge on Discord (send an ask for an invite) for beta help, chatting and mental support.

when posting: 

creators should try to post their entries by the end of the month (What to do when you miss the deadline?)

please tag your partner and the jilychallenge in your post (including the theme and your prompt, if possible)

we will reblog all entries tagged #jilychallenge

if you post your art or story on ao3, please add it to the collection of Jily Challenges 2023

If you have any questions at all, don't hesitate to send us a message or ask! If you have an idea for a theme for an upcoming month we'd love to hear it!

[pensivegladiola]

Confinement

This is a short story/flash fiction submitted for a Penana competition ‘Tropes Reversed.’ My reversed tropes were ‘friends to strangers’ and ‘needing space.’

I’ll add the challenge link at the bottom if you want to give it a go with your own writing! It has a full list of tropes.

———

Brodie had to give it to the government official. This punishment was certainly a unique one, although he wasn’t sure that it was packing the punch they intended.

He and Nathaniel had built that bomb together, yes, and they had hidden it in the undercarriage of the governor’s car, and they had detonated it from afar. But the target was intended to be the governor himself, not the man’s twelve year old daughter. A small change of plans, a school cancellation due to weather, and a little girl with fatal shrapnel injuries had derailed all of their plans. They had been so sure that the public would welcome them as heroes after killing the man who had revoked so many civic rights after taking power. But even in the face of so many disappeared journalists, students, and intellectuals, the murder of a child did not win them public favor.

Brodie had expected execution by firing squad. But it turned out that the governor had been reading Satre when his daughter died and here they were.

Hell is other people.

Now he and Nathaniel were housed in a single room together. No amenities except a lamp, the most basic of facilities, and the occasional food delivery. No company except one another. No books, no beds, no sunlight. No distractions. They had taken the man’s beloved child from his life forever and in return, he had doomed them to a lifetime of never escaping one another.

Frankly, Brodie believed that the man had made a mistake. He and Nathaniel were like brothers. They had met in the revolutionary fervor of an underground student organization and connected right away. Their minds were of one and with time, their plans had grown far beyond the scope of the secret pamphlets and newspapers and protests on which the other students dedicated their time. No, they would make real change.

It hadn’t gone so well. But if Brodie was to be stuck with anyone, it should be Nathaniel, with whom this entire journey had begun. They had done nothing wrong and they could both rest with that knowledge.

~

Nathaniel had made a horrifying mistake. Caught up in all the rhetoric and enthusiasm, he had taken the life of a child. How was he any better than the soldiers who beat people in the streets? What had he become?

At the beginning of this crusade, he had been so sure of himself. Of course, they were on the right path. Of course, blood should be spilt in return for blood. But now, with nothing but the room and Brodie to remind him of his errors, this no longer rang true. Even if that little girl had not been the one in the car, Nathaniel would still have been responsible for the death of a human being. Even if that man were abominable, he was still a person. Nathaniel had lost sight of that. How many days had he agonized over the disappearance of his older sister? Wondered how the soldiers who had reportedly dragged her away in the night had failed to look her humanity in the face? And now, he had become what he so despised.

But what he despised more was Brodie.

“Why are you weeping, huh? I hope it’s for yourself and not that girl. She would have only grown up to be like her father. We did the country a favor even if we missed our original target. Maybe it will inspire others to action.”

“She was a child, Brodie! Don’t you recognize what we’ve done?”

“I know exactly what we’ve done and I defend it.”

Every waking moment, Nathaniel was forced to stare his sins in the face. And that face belonged to Brodie. Hatred grew like a creeping vine.

~

Brodie paced the room while Nathaniel stared at the wall in silence. After hours of arguing until their voices had gone hoarse, Nathaniel had stopped answering Brodie’s provocations.

How could Nathaniel betray him like this? Brodie had thought that they were ideological equals. Brothers. And now, Nathaniel thought him a murderer? Blamed him for everything that went wrong as though the other man had no agency of his own. Pathetic.

Brodie strode up to the lamp and turned it off, yanking hard on the cord. It swayed from the force, making a ringing sound against the floor. They were immersed in darkness.

“Turn the light on!” Nathaniel shouted.

“Why should I? I don’t want to see you, moping in that corner!”

Nathaniel stood up and returned the light to the room. They stared at each other. Nathaniel’s eyes were bloodshot.

“Of all the people to be stuck with! I would rather have faced the firing squad!” Nathaniel shrieked, face turning puce with rage, “Every time I look at you, it makes me want to claw my eyes out!”

Brodie laughed bitterly.

“Well, you haven’t a knife to do it with! You ensured that by failing to follow the car’s driver like I told you to!”

“I was only a pawn to you, wasn’t I? Just an impressionable little lackey!”

Brodie had never so desperately wished for solitude. Nathaniel returned to the white wall on his half of the room and began to scratch at the surface. The count of days on the wall continued to increase.

~

After three weeks of spats, the occasional fist fight, and an aching, desperation-inducing need to rid themselves of the other, an unusual food delivery arrived. Nathaniel glanced back at Brodie who was eating as usual. He discreetly opened the note that had been hidden in his tray.

‘Dear comrade,

During the trial, I could see that you felt genuine remorse for what happened to my little girl. As such, I would like to offer you a pardon. If you remain the only man living in the room, I will open the door and return your freedom.

Signed,

This mourning father and dedicated governor’

Nathaniel slipped the note into his mouth and ate it. Was it really possible? Escape from this place? From Brodie? But what if he wasn’t the only one who had received the note? If that was the case, time was ticking. His self-serving former friend would surely act sooner rather than later.

Could he really kill Brodie? He had spent weeks agonizing over his choices, convinced that taking any life was wrong. But it was Brodie who had led him to that choice in the first place. Maybe this act would finally balance the scales.

~

Brodie was positive that Nathaniel had received a similar note in his meal. The man was acting too suspicious to believe otherwise.

‘Dear comrade,

Due to occupancy limits, we will be downsizing to solitary cells. Since we cannot fit both of you, please decide as you see fit who should receive such a cell. The other will be sent as a dissection specimen to the nearby medical school in service to the country’s students as a gesture of my benevolence.

Signed,

This mourning father and dedicated governor’

Could he really kill Nathaniel? They had been like brothers once. But now his presence made Brodie’s skin crawl. He wanted nothing more than that solitary cell to himself. Nathaniel wanted atonement, yes? Maybe death was the answer that Brodie could provide.

~

The governor had lied. No one ever came to retrieve Nathaniel. Nor had they come to retrieve Brodie’s body. Now he was finally alone. And he would never be free of Brodie, stuck in the same room, forever...

———

‘Tropes Reversed Challenge’

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.

We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.

I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.

But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.

Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.

And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.

It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.

It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.

And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.

[katwritestigerbunny]

The End of the World Tiger & Bunny Barnaby "Bunny" Brooks Jr. & Kaburagi T. Kotetsu For Reverse Prompts #18 Summary: Barnaby Brooks Jr.

Hero. Model. Icon.

A man adrift after everything he thought he knew was ripped away from him. A shattered husk trying desperately to keep the pieces together.

And then a villain comes along to give him a new perspective.

Stern Bild was a fascinating city, Barnaby had to admit as he wandered the small tidy streets of the Silver Stage. It had been raining all day, but that didn't stop most of the city dwellers from their routines. Barnaby had his umbrella pulled down low and was walking out of the way of most traffic, trying to avoid causing a scene.

He idly thought back to how Maverick had pushed and poked him into agreeing to his plan to be only known by his real name and real face... For his entire life story to be plastered all over HeroTV for ratings...

Barnaby sighed heavily.

Days like this always put him in a weird place mentally.

Read More at AO3 here.

[deception-united]

Let's talk about misdirection.

(Requested by @voiceless9000. Hope this is helpful!)

Misdirection in storytelling, through foreshadowing and other techniques, is a powerful tool that can enhance suspense, surprise, and engagement in your narrative and make plot twists more unexpected.

Remember to maintain coherence and avoid contrivances that may undermine the integrity of your storytelling.

Here are some techniques you can use to effectively misdirect readers:

Red herrings: Introduce elements or clues that suggest a certain outcome or plot direction, only to later reveal that they were misleading. These false leads can divert readers' attention away from the true resolution.

Selective detailing: Highlight certain details or events in a way that implies their significance, while downplaying or omitting others that might be more relevant to the actual outcome. By controlling what information readers focus on, you can steer their expectations.

Character misdirection: Use characterisation to mislead readers about characters' true intentions, motivations, or identities. Create multi-dimensional characters who may behave ambiguously or inconsistently, leaving readers unsure of their true allegiances, motivations, or goals.

Foreshadowing: Employ foreshadowing to hint at future events or outcomes, but do so in a way that misleads interpretation. Provide clues that could be interpreted in multiple ways or that lead readers to expect one outcome while delivering another. (See my previous post about foreshadowing for more!)

Misleading narration: Utilise an unreliable narrator or perspective to present events in a biased or distorted manner. Readers may trust the narrator's account implicitly, only to discover later that their perceptions were flawed or intentionally deceptive.

Subverting tropes: Set up situations or scenarios that seem to follow familiar narrative tropes or conventions, only to subvert them in unexpected ways. This can keep readers guessing and prevent them from accurately predicting the story's trajectory.

Parallel storylines: Introduce secondary storylines or subplots that appear unrelated to the main narrative but eventually intersect or influence the primary plot in unexpected ways. This can distract readers from anticipating the main storyline's developments.

Setting: Manipulate the setting or environment to create false impressions about the direction of the plot. For example, presenting a seemingly idyllic setting that harbors dark secrets or dangers.

Timing and pacing: Control the pacing of your story to strategically reveal information or developments at opportune moments, leading readers to draw premature conclusions or overlook important details. (See my post on pacing for more tips!)

Twists and reversals: Incorporate sudden plot twists or reversals that upend readers' expectations and challenge their assumptions about the story's direction. Ensure that these twists are logically consistent but sufficiently surprising to catch readers off guard.

Happy writing!

Previous | Next

[norikuna]

GREEDY — gojo satoru minors dni

prologue. → pretty, prodigal, and teasing. how far can you push your former teacher before he snaps? gojo's about this 🤏 close from releasing a hollow purple on the world.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. màstúrbation (m.) and rough sèx, creaḿpie. some angst/doubt. angsty love confession before gojo póunds reader into the mattress. incorrect use of reversed curse technique. arguments and stuff. description of injuries. def mean!gojo a bit and he's got vampire tendencies.

reader is of legal age (implied to be 19-20) and gojo is 28 so age gap!romance. obsessed!gojo and popular girl!reader trope. gojo is absolutely a mess in this, and reader is described as wearing short skirts, and wearing makeup.

rather questionable ethics and dynamics (teacher/former student) but rest assured its clear that his feelings are pretty recent. reader has him twirled and whipped around her fingers. reader is also def a baddie and ambiguously bi.

word count. 8.7k words im mad actually. this was meant to be headcanons song inspiration. greedy — tate mcrae

a/n. this is was gonna be from reader's pov but i thought it would be more fun from gojo's 🙂‍↔️

mp3. i see you eyeing me down, but you'll never know much past my name. or how i'm running this room, but i'm still half your age. yeah, you're looking at me like i'm some sweet escape 😛

gojo satoru was not a weak man, no. he knew that he was an anomaly of nature, an unstoppable power that could reduce enemies to dust and make entire clans crumble with nothing more than a flick of his wrists.

so how was it, that when it came to you, his resolve was paper-thin?

every time your open gaze met his, every time you brushed past him, every time your presence filled the space around his infinity, gojo felt something inside him unravel. his breath would be caught in his chest, leaving his pulse to quicken and suddenly, all that strength and control would slip through his fingers.

gojo cursed himself for this, you see. he had never been one to lose control, but he was not quite sure when his entire body has started to betray him.

but no, fuck that, and he did his utter best to run his focus back onto the lesson at hand. unfortunately, the lesson at hand was with you. standing in front of him, arms slightly raised, palms out, and raising your brow as boredom passed over your face.

gojo cleared his throat, "your stance is good, but your cursed energy is all over the place. focus, breathe. centre yourself is what i'm saying," he instructed, but the words felt hollow as they passed through his lips.

unfairly, you're weren't the problem. he was. and now this was getting ridiculous. you had graduated not two, three years past? it would have been a disservice to still call you his student, but even as a mentee, you were still under his tutelage. and as recent as this immature infatuation was, this felt wrong.

but now you were frowning, starting to waver and the sharp, staccato tap of your heeled boot punctuated the wooden floor, click, click!

gojo looked to the sky, briefly, if to pray for patience and a calm of some sorts. he stepped forwards towards you, placing a hand on your waist to guide you into a better stance, and trying to ignore the way your skin felt warm underneath his fingers.

focus.

"don't let your body twist like that when you utilise your own cursed energy. keep it straight, balanced," he muttered, adjusting your posture slightly, hand on your spine — the heel of his palm pressing into a dent. a deity from the sky must have struck him with a cursed arrow, for his whole body was on fire.

because there you were, standing right in front of him, so close that gojo could feel the soft heat of your breath, the faint scent of a sweet perfume wafting off your skin, vanilla?

"you're not focused," gojo grimaced, though he wasn't sure if the rebuke was at himself, or at you — whose eyes widened briefly, and gojo tried not to recognise the curiosity and challenge that flashed across your face.

look at how she's staring at me. and gojo felt utterly ridiculous, and exposed, she knows. but instead of pulling away, you shifted ever so slightly towards him, your body arching as the barest brush of your breasts against his forearm had heat pulling through his body.

would you taste as sweet as you smelt? would you lean more into him if he asked?

he cleared his throat, "okay. relax, not every stance or position works for an individual. perhaps, you'll be able to focus better like this," and with his hand still on your waist, he pulled you into a swift spin. one that left your back pressed against the hard planes of the chest, and you facing the other wall.

you hummed, this time not in the way he wanted. your lips were lightly parted, and there was that soft sheen of gloss catching the light, making your lips look impossibly soft. gojo caught himself staring, wandering what it would be like to press his own mouth to yours, and whether you would squeal or moan.

still, if there was anything that gojo was good at, it was deflecting like a champ, "i think you're distracted," he laughed, low and amused, "is something making you lose focus?"

you tilted your head, and gojo didn't miss (nor did his heart or groin) that your gaze flickered to his mouth for the briefest second before meeting his eyes again, feigning innocence, "don't tell me you're underestimating me, sensei. because i'd hate to think you can't keep up?"

gojo bit back a grin at the obvious bait, "careful," brushing strands of white hair that had fallen into his face away, "if you get too cocky, you tend to miss danger. you start to ignore things that should be noticed."

your voice dropped to a droll whisper, eyes glinting, "you think i don't notice things? i'm aware of plenty."

gojo forced himself to focus, to ignore the way that your lashes flutter with unshakable composure. trying to regain control, or some semblance of mind, he started counting each individual lash painted dark with mascara, lingering on the outermost curls that framed your sharp eyes.

after a beat, he forced himself to break eye contact, "alright," he said, stepping back with a casual shrug that he hoped conveyed just how nonchalant he was, "we’ll call it a day here and continue training tomorrow."

"backing out already?" you teased, leaning in just a little, making him tense at the closeness.

gojo chuckled, feigning nonchalance. "for your sake. you may be powerful, but you have to pace yourself."

you shrugged, nodding, "i'm going out anyway this evening," you said, hopping back a step before bending down to gather your things. gojo politely averted his gaze, his heart hammering from your previous proximity, and desperately hoping to avoid a...reaction, that would be quite inconvenient, as wide and loose as his martial pants were. like a fuckin' school boy with a crush. gross.

but as you slung your pastel bag over your shoulder and straightened up, he couldn't help a quick glance, catching the small, coy glimmer in your eyes as you turned to leave.

gojo sighed, pulling up his blindfold once more, "have fun," he half-heartedly offered, but you were already out the door.

the corridors were now empty, the clang of metal and chatter now silent, replaced with a quiet hum of the air conditioning. gojo wiped his face with the towel wrapped around his neck, the damp fabric clinging to his skin and the muscles in his arms and chest still warm from the intensity of training. his arms and chest glistened, the muscles warm and taut as he stretched, rolling his shoulders back with a low groan. exhaustion settled into him like a weight, each movement of his tired, bare torso slow and deliberate.

"oh, you're still here, sensei?"

gojo's eyes snapped open, drawn to the sound of your inquisitive voice. you stood in the doorway, framed by the dim light from the hallway, and he immediately felt a rush of heat flood his chest.

well, fuck, now his mouth was dry. clearly, your previous iteration of 'going out' was a bit more glamorous than you had led on, and he was certain his wandering eyes betrayed him as it flickered over your figure. it took a titan's strength to keep his eyes from trailing down your long legs, the way your dress hugged the swell of your chest, or over your glistening neck. there was a faint shimmer, a glitter of some sort? it coated your skin, and gojo wanted to lick it off with his tongue.

what? no. who said that?

he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his composure.

you scowled at his reaction, clearly mistaking his silence for distaste. "what? i did say i was going somewhere," you retorted, your tone sharp but amused. "i’m more than allowed to leave the campus grounds.”

"of course,” he replied, voice outstandingly steady but his mind still trailing after every curve, every detail that made you look...well...dangerous in the best way, "don't let me stop you. who's the lucky guy?"

you arched a brow, folding your arms over your chest, and now, gojo really did have to look away and pretend that he was busy with retying a dark piece of cloth over his eyes, "who said it was a guy?"

gojo thickly swallowed, wondering if he'd just made a colossal blunder with no return, "that's not what i meant." the words 'my bad' stuck in his throat as you laughed and sighed.

"joking, sorry. it's a guy, this time." now you were fiddling with your long nails, with a satisfying clack as they ran across each other.

"i hope he shows you a great time then," he offered, half-hearted, blasé.

you took a step into the room, and gojo didn't even need six eyes to know that your eyes were raking over his chest, "i'm sure he will," all sweetness and sugar, "i've been training so hard, i deserve it, don't i?"

the words hit him harder than he expected, and he had to remind himself — she's not yours, satoru. but that didn't stop the gruff irritation bubbling up.

"a real man should be taking you out on a date like this,” he said, his voice a bit too rough for his liking. "not some guy who’s probably just looking for a good time."

you scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. "are you saying that there's someone else out there who can do a better job?" your tone was playful, but there was a challenge in it — an edge that made his heart skip once more, "sadly, there just aren't many who've handled me well."

he ignored your immature, faux pout, and ran a hand through damp, icy hair — ignoring how his temper flared, rearing its ugly head.

was this all on purpose? to toy with him?

"you want to be handled, sweetheart?" gojo's voice dropped a little lower, indulging your teasing, "i've seen you lose focus easily, you could easily break."

your lips creased up, painted a tempting shade of dried-blood red (what the fuck was wrong with him? was he now just a horny vampire?) as you purred, "i'd need some help testing out that theory." your expression was open just enough for him to see the tiniest flicker of something in your eyes — something that told him you were enjoying this far more than you should.

an invitation of sorts, he wondered. did you want him to move? to make a move? it wasn’t a secret that you had always been a popular student practically a legend, rumours swirling around you like wildfire — whispers of broken hearts and sweetened smiles that could captivate anyone in your path. he had never paid attention of course, gossip always ran wild among students and he discouraged such whispers of who-did-what, for a grade 1 curse would never indulge such behaviour before they would get torn to shreds.

and even now, long after graduation as you worked around your old alma mater, men and women — everyone swooned at the chance to speak with you, and yet, here you were, playing this dangerous game with him.

gojo scowled, trying to push past the desire building inside him, the urge to have you underneath him, right on this mat in the training room. "well, don’t hang around too long," he said, his tone sharp as a blade. "i’m sure your date is waiting. go have a good time."

invitation declined. the morally right thing to do. right?

he didn’t need to look to see the small sneer that curled at the corner of your lips, or the way it turned into a fleeting expression of annoyance. he could hear the click of your heels echo down the hallway as you sashayed out.

what the everlasting fuck was wrong with him?

lo and behold, the great gojo satoru often found himself alone in his own private rooms. for 'the strongest' rarely had time to accommodate some other forms of company.

and frankly, he had no desire to do so now regardless. not when the echoes of your clicking heels still reverberated in his mind. the silence that echoed around him was heavy, suffocating and he was sure he looked erratic.

gojo ran a hand over his face, trying to shake the thought of you. but it was useless. his body was still on fire, the heat of jealousy smouldering in his chest, coiling in his gut like something alive, something dangerous. he had walked to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, his legs splayed wide apart as his shoulders slumped under the soft, amber glow of the setting sun that streamed through the windows. the sorcerer let his head fall back against the chair, eyes closed.

how absolutely ridiculous, he thought, running his fingers through his tousled hair. no, he just couldn't stop it. couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted you. wanted you to want him too. and now, with the way you’d left, with that knowing smile on your lips, all he could imagine was the man you were with now, the man who’d be holding the door open for you, who’d be pulling out your chair, whoever the hell he was.

maybe even a casual, non-sorcerer. some random guy that you had indulged because he was no threat. but he wouldn't be able to touch you, not in the way that you demanded. the man would laugh at your jokes, brush his hand against yours, but wouldn't be able to let a real smile bubble from your lips like satoru could.

and what would that man do next?

would he try to take you back to his place? some small poorly-lit apartment where he'd try to kiss you, to claim your lips without even pulling away for air. would you kiss him back, curling into his frame?

before gojo's even registered what he's doing, his own hand has found his hard cock. despite the tattle of assistance, and dreamy-eyed mongers, pleasure is rare for him. relief, even less so. his schedule just doesn't allow it, and so he oft find himself chasing some distant contentment like this, alone in his rooms.

but he squeezes at the wide hilt, at his base, pulling his hands up, upwards as his brows furrow under blindfold, and he tugs the offending fabric off, away from him, as laden balls smack against his wrist.

maybe the man would then trail his lips down your neck, maybe he'd try to slowly sink his teeth into delicate flesh, leaving blooming purple marks that wouldn't fade, not when gojo saw you tomorrow.

he's running his curled hand up towards the fat mushroom tip, almost glowing pink with heat and pre-cum that's leaving his hand slicked with faint moisture, "shit, that's it."

then what? he can imagine your teasing smile as you decide to take your pleasure as you see fit. how you'd suddenly push this faceless man off, and move so you're straddling him, letting his hands wander around the curve of your hips, digging into plush flesh.

now he's starting to pant, open-mouthed, "ah - fuck! wish i had you here, right here." gojo must be a madman, breathing out to the empty, open air.

but in his mind's eye, you're reaching behind your back to undo the zipper on your outstandingly tight dress, giving the faceless man a coy smile as you push the fabric of your dress down, letting your plentiful tits spill out and against the man's chest.

his wrist is moving faster now, and there's a cramp starting to build up as he pistons his hand over his stretched shaft, and one arm is thrown over his face — the soft hairs on his thick forearm tickling his face as he tries not to gasp or whine too loudly, but he's bucking his ups now, pretending that it's not his hand that he's spilling into, but your tight cunt. and later, he shudders and tenses up, with apologies whispered into the air, "look, look - shit, i'm sorry - i'm sorry. couldn't help it, fuck." and gojo's bitten his lips so hard that he's certain he's drawn blood, vibrant red blooming on pale, creamy skin.

and a lamp had exploded as he came. damn, he'd have to replace that.

you don't deserve someone like him, no. not when he's sitting here, absolutely filthy with thick, white seed entirely over his tense abdominal muscles and stiff hand. not when he's trying to catch his breath after imagining how snug your pussy would feel around him, and how you'd beg for him to give it to you harder.

you didn't deserve someone so messed up with guilt, with mistakes, with the kind of weight that made him too much for anyone, let alone someone like you. didn't you deserve better than a tortured man who couldn't control himself, better than an overzealous mentor who was supposed to keep his distance, to do what was right.

but that didn’t stop his thoughts from swirling, as he separated damp, thick thighs from the smooth surface of the chair, reaching for a tissue. he couldn’t help it. and it made him feel like a damn fool.

the meeting room buzzed with tension, voices rising in sharp, clipped exchanges — some angry, some demanding and others clueless and questioning. gojo had woken up in a foul mood that morning, with some ill-gotten storm brewing beneath his chest. perhaps it was the thoughts of you that lingered from the night before, a gnawing jealously that left him feeling too tight in the stiffness of the uniform dress pants.

but he had forced himself to be dragged through this meeting, plastering a snarky light-hearted grin over his face as he leaned against the wall, letting the higher-ups argue themselves into oblivion.

amidst the storm of words, gojo's focus was nowhere near the mission being discussed. no, his attention was fixated entirely on you. you stood at the far end of the table, eyes flashing with ire as you tore into some pompous old fool who’d dared question your power. the others in the room shifted uncomfortably, deferring to you, as they often did, despite your youth. you had that rare combination of presence and bite that made people recoil back when you sunk your teeth into them, and this was not a knot gojo was interested in unraveling.

kojiro, one of the bumbling administrators, had turned his babbling attention to gojo, "you're still planning to face that curse head-on, gojo-san?" the poor man is wringing his hands at gojo's flat look (made all the more unreadable through a blindfold, satoru would wager), "don't you think it would be well - unwise? instead of expending your time and energy on one cursed spirit, you could handle five lesser ones. efficiency, you see."

gojo's gaze briefly flickers back to you, standing with your arms crossed as one hand fiddles with the end of your braid as your petal-pink lips scowl at some other official with words that don't fit his stature. your other hands keeps reaching around your neck, adjusting a plaid scarf over and over, like you're desparate to hide something under the fabric . well, fuck that.

"i'm aware of the risks," gojo turns his attention back to the matter, "but no one here has time for hesitation. if the curse is special grade, don't you at least think that delaying with lead to more destruction?"

"is it really the cursed spirit you’re worried about, takumi-san?" you asked, your voice low, the kind of voice that could make someone forget their own name.

gojo's gaze snapped to you from under the blindfold, but you weren’t looking at him, not even speaking at him. instead, you were locking eyes with one of the other sorcerers — takumi, a grade two with a shaggy mop of golden hair, one who had been a student alongside you and hardly subtle in his admiration for you.

gojo tries to hide a scoff at how takumi's eyes are wandering over you, ignoring the newpapers that have been flattened on the meeting table, with bold inked letters reading doom-portents such as 'unexplained explosion, 4 dead and 12 injured."

time and place, man.

"you don't think i can handle this mission. if you're worried about me, just say so," takumi's now leaning into you, even as gojo tries to train his ear on kojiro's economic-obsessed babble instead.

gojo can see your eyes flicker to the dastardly newspapers as well, clearly curling your lips at the dour news and takami's disastrous attempt at getting his hands under your skirt. but he also knows that sharp glint in your eyes, the one when you toy with those around you, to pull them in without ever committing to anything. clearly, you've decided to indulge this game.

"takumi," and you draw out the younger man's name, "shouldn't you bring more strength to the table? of course, i'm worried about a friend getting hurt. but even if you were stronger, or the strongest, a special grade curse could do some real damage."

and your eyes have flicked right towards gojo, raking over his frame leaning against the pale cream walls. he's glad for the blindfold, so you can't see how he scowls and furrows his thin brows at you, at your blatant hopes for a reaction from him. were you so unobservant that you did not know how much you bothered him?

the pointed sharpness in your words made takumi pause, and for just a moment, gojo could see the man’s grin falter. it was clear that you weren’t impressed by his attention, you had no need for his slimy attempts.

there was no mistake about it — this wasn’t just a flirtation. this was a game you played, and gojo was not only aware of it; he was caught in it. he tries not to feel irrationally angry, fuck, so much of his life revolves around his work, his job and now he can't even do that properly without feeling like you're using your long nails to dangle something in front of him, wanting to snap his teeth out and snatch it.

so you wanted him to see this. you wanted to claim that you could unravel the strongest sorcerer from the heavens to the earth below, to make him lose his composure. gojo feels as if there is crackling ozone in the air, and wonders dimly if the weather forecast predicted a rain storm for later today.

takumi, sensing the shift, finally backed off with a huff, but not before giving all around him a lingering look, as if it was their fault that you weren't interested.

"enough distractions," kojiro's interjected, raking a finger through a beard streaked with gray, and he's shooting a pointed look at you, snapping rose-pink gum, and takumi, shuffling with his hands in his pockets. "we're here to discuss the mission, not flirt." and then, he's off mumbling something about how this was why he hated having younger sorcerers join the meeting rooms.

his ire only grew. gojo stood with his back against the wall, outside the meeting room, once everyone had left with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. you stood in front of him, your eyes flashing with anger, your chest rising and falling with each sharp breath.

"absolutely not," gojo stood his ground firmly, "no-one will let you go on this mission."

you stomped on the floor, once as your heels snapped an echo, "they will if you say so."

gojo stuffs his hands in his pockets, "who said that i would also allow you?"

you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest, mimicking his previous stance but with a clear defiance in your posture. "and why the hell not? i'm more than capable of handling it. it's my fucking choice, and how can extra help hurt?"

"enough!" gojo snapped, feeling a tense pain in between his eyes, "it's too dangerous. and you're too young -"

"too young!" you've interrupted him, "i'm not some helpless child, sensei. i'm a grade 1 sorcerer! one of the best, i don't need to be treated like i can't handle a mission."

"grade 1. not special-grade."

his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. gojo could see the fury in your eyes, but there was something else there, something deeper, a vulnerability that he had seen before in students, some desire to prove themselves and be heaped with praise. he knew you were good, better than most — hell, better than many of the adults he’d seen. but this cursed spirit was unlike anything you’d faced before. and yet, here you were, challenging him, pushing him, daring him to stop you.

"you don’t get it," he muttered, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. "you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. you're too reckless."

"reckless!" now you had taken a step towards him, narrowing the space between you both. your eyes were fierce now, but there was something else in them — a spark of hurt that made his chest tighten, and gojo began to wander where this would start spiral. "i’m not reckless. i know exactly what i’m doing. the only reckless thing here is you thinking you have the right to control my every move."

"i'm the one in charge here," he said, his voice hoarse, the words coming out sharper than he intended. "and i'm telling you now, you’re not going. you’re not ready for this. don't involve the higher-ups in this."

you were so close now, just inches apart. his eyes flicked to your lips, with the arch of a blooming flower kissed by the sun, for a brief moment, and then back up to your face, where anger and frustration mixed with something else — a challenge.

"maybe that’s the problem," you said, your voice quieter now, but still holding an edge. "you think i'm still some child who needs you to tell me what to do. maybe you just don’t want me to outshine you."

the words are ridiculous, and he can see by the mild quiver as your throat bobs that you don't mean what you say. it takes a rare type of courage to tell the first person in four hundred years to be born with limitless and six eyes, that he could be outshined. but satoru doesn't say a word to rebuke your obvious and false bait.

your body is so close now that gojo could feel the heat of your skin, your breath brushing against his. he could smell the faint sweetness of vanilla again in the air mingled with fresh, crisp apples, could see the subtle shine of your lip gloss catching the light. it was a testament to his spirit, he thinks, that he did not lean in straight away and touch his mouth to yours in this scenario that certainly did not warrant it.

"you want me to stop you that badly?" he hissed, his voice a mix of frustration and something darker, that had not yet snapped. "is that what this is? a game? a way for you to get my attention? to see how far you can push me before i do snap?"

now he's got your tongue, and your expression has flickered for a brief moment before schooling into an impassive mask, and gojo briefly wanders if he's crossed an awful line and misinterpreted everything. if they're gonna stick a white dunce hat on his head and parade him through the streets of outer tokyo for being an assuming fool.

but then you've stepped even closer, your breath coming faster, the weight of your chest almost pressed against his, and gojo doesn't move and he's briefly aware that he's let his infinity down.

"partly, you know it's not just about you though. i do want to go on this mission, but -" you tilt your head and look right up at him, and the older man's head starts to reel from the fact that he was right all along, "i do want to see how far you can go before you snap."

his heart pounded, and for a moment, everything went still. all the tension, all the heat, the anger, and the desire — everything seemed to converge in the space between you. gojo's hand twitched, aching to touch you, but he held himself back, his muscles straining with the effort.

"stop,” he rasped, barely able to get the word out. "you don’t know what you’re doing, or what you're asking for."

he's never felt quite like this before, breathless as if the air has been punched out of his lungs. all gojo could think was how much he wanted to pull you closer, to kiss you until there was nothing left between you.

but he couldn’t.

he puts his hands on your shoulders, fingers digging into the expensive fabric of your top, and gently pushes you away.

"my decision is final. don't make this harder than this, you're forbidden from the mission."

how sick and twisted, that you've fled with embarrassed tears pricking at your eyes, and he's stuck with a raging erection.

well, he had seen worse. but it didn't make this curse any less vicious. it was ancient, he could presume, and maddening. its cursed energy was warping the night air like a violent storm. but again, not the worst thing that he had encountered in his twenty-eight years, and with the right timing, he'd been able to calculate every strike and counter.

but then he saw you.

at first, he thought it was a blur — a trick of the light. but then, there you were, standing at the edge of the pavement, your figure framed by the chaotic crackle of cursed energy. fuck your stubborn nature.

this is not what is meant to happen. gojo's heart has skipped a beat, and he's not sure what he's more furious with. you, for defying his concern for your safety. or himself, for getting so distracted in. a battle.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?"

yes, he knows you're good. good enough to move with precision against a special-grade curse, your stance instantly and suspiciously better than the other day in the training rooms. it's only through his six eyes that gojo has been able to keep a track of your movements as your jujutsu is able to dodge the creature's brutal force.

impressive. but reckless.

and that never lasts.

you had moved to cast your own cursed technique, but the curse was intelligent enough to anticipate it. with a sudden lash of its tail, the creature swung its power straight at you, knocking you off balance. you stumbled, your footing lost, and before you could react, a flash of dark energy slicing across your shoulder.

a scream had torn from your lips as you fell to the ground, blood spurting from the deep cut.

and briefly, just for a flicker of time, gojo sees a dark-haired man in violet robes leaning against a brick wall, with his shoulder torn off, 'at least curse me one last time.'

blood rushing in his ears, before he even realised it, he was on top of you, his body hovering over yours, his jujutsu flaring as he shoved the cursed spirit back with a brutal force that made the earth tremble, an exorcism that will not take long. he kneeled beside you, his breath ragged, eyes locked on the wound on your shoulder. the blood was already soaking your clothes, darkening the fabric as you winced, your breath shallow and unsteady.

"you —” gojo isn't sure if his hand isn't shaking from how irate he is, "what the hell were you thinking? fuck, don't move."

your eyes were unfocused for a moment, but when they snapped to him, there was defiance there — even in this moment (get a grip!), as you gritted your teeth against the pain.

"save it, it's fine," you spat, your voice weak but vexed, "that bitch is still there."

"what did i tell you! what did i say would happen?" he cursed under his breath, focusing his reversed cursed technique as he tried to heal you, but the moment felt like an eternity as bright red blood moved too fast for him to seize it.

an assassin's blade in his throat, his arteries giving way and bubbling out and up.

now you don't answer, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. gojo's gaze darted to the cursed spirit, which was now advancing again, enraged by the interruption.

it won’t touch you again.

he stood, pulling you away from him, your body slumping slightly out of his arms. he could feel the heat of your blood soaking through his sleeve, but he had no time to dwell on it. the curse roared in fury, and gojo's infinity flared up around him again, a shield of pure energy blocking its path.

"stay down,” he growled, and all he received was a weak, "fuck, you think that's funny?"

it's only later when he's pulling you back up, that he realises that his reversed cursed energy has done enough to stem the bleeding, but not enough to leave you unharmed as your breath is shallow, your face taking on a more sickly pallor.

"don’t you ever — ever —do that again," he snarled, his voice raw and he wonders when something (or someone) has ever undone him so much. but the anger in his voice doesn't carry to his touch as he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, tracing the lines of your jaw.

the sterile walls of your room did nothing to soften the tension in gojo's chest as he stood by your bed, his eyes tracing the curve of your sullen form beneath the sheets. your shoulder was bandaged, with red seeping slowly through the white strips.

"you really are unbelievable," he snapped, his voice sharp as he paced around the room, every step heavy with frustration. "i told you it was too dangerous. i told you not to fucking go."

you lay there, your eyes half-closed, as though you weren’t even listening, but the twitching frown on your lips is sign enough that you're not as sorry. his fingers flexed at his sides, itching to do something — anything — to release the tension building in him.

"are you even listening to me?" he know he sounds bitter, over-reactionary, angry as he moved towards the edge of your bed.

you blinked slowly, your gaze still infuriatingly calm, "i'm fine, now. save the lecture."

he doesn't want to start sputtering so he settles for crossing his arms over his chest, but your voice breaks the silence again.

"you know i want to be a special grade sorcerer, right?"

gojo only looks down, not wanting to indulge an excuse and he studies the tight grip of his knuckles on his slender fingers, "well, i don't know why. the pay isn't that good." it's a weak attempt at a joke, but you're smiling.

"i was told i could only become one if i was the one to exorcise that special grade."

"by who? the higher-ups?" and you nod, wincing as you do.

what a fucking surprise. the way that the jujutsu world works is no surprise to gojo by now, having been surrounded by it his entire life. but the harshness of their reality still shocks him, old and doddering officials who cling to their silk robes are prone to sending out younger sorcerers (those who are still green, barely out of school) to do their dirty work for them, and the cemetery outside of jujutsu tech is ever growing.

he ground his teeth together, his chest tightening as he stared down at you. the bandages, the damp skin, the stillness of your body — it made him want to tear something apart. "fine! if they were giving you a hard time, why didn't you just come to me then?" he repeated harshly.

"would you go ask someone to help you, for something like this? if you were asked to prove yourself?"

gojo runs his tongue behind his teeth, "i'm the strongest, princess. i don't need to ask for help."

you groan, turning your head away from him, but a faint smile dances upon your lips.

he inhales sharply, his fingers digging into the edge of the bed. "you think this is a joke?"

"all four limbs are attached and i'm living and breathing. okay, so fine. my bad. i won't do it again. will you stop snapping at me now, at everything -" and gojo wonders if there's really some hurt colouring your voice, "what's going on?"

the words slip out, rough and unrestrained. "what’s going on is that you’re driving me insane. you act like this doesn’t matter, like i can just stand by and let you throw yourself into danger like it’s nothing — like you don’t matter — but you do. you do matter."

his chest was heaving now, his hands shaking as he reached out and grabbed your wrist. his thumb brushed over your pulse, the tiny fluttering beneath your skin driving him wild. "i can’t — i can’t just stand there and watch you get hurt," he continued, his voice hoarse. "you don’t get to do whatever you want without consequences, damn it. you don’t get to make me feel this way, and then pretend like it doesn’t matter."

for a moment, there was silence. gojo's pulse was hammering in his ears, his body coiled with the intensity of everything he was trying to say. everything he was trying not to say. everything he wanted to act upon.

and then, with a slow, almost lazy smile, you turned towards him, "i didn't know the great gojo satoru was like this. who would have thought?"

his breath hitched in his throat. gojo wanted to say something, to snap at you again, to maintain that distance — but the truth was that the distance between the two of you had disappeared these past few weeks. his chest tightened, his hands trembling as they slid to your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw, and he relished how your facade almost cracked and you lightly shivered.

at least, he hoped you were shivering because of his touch. and not, like, a fever building up from your injuries.

fuck it.

and then, before he could stop himself, gojo was leaning down, his lips crashing into yours with all the force he could muster, desparate and hungry and that frustration and fear that he had been holding onto. his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you towards him with a force that made your breath catch, as you responded with a soft gasp.

had he misstepped? no, for you kissed him back, tentatively at first, as if you were testing the waters, but then building up to a sudden urgency that mirrored his own. your hands slid to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pushed yourself closer to him, before crying out.

"ah! fuck, my shoulder."

small beads of blood surfaced where your collarbone met your shoulder, each one glistening like tiny rubies against your warm skin. they gathered slowly, delicate droplets that clung to you before tracing faint, uneven lines downward. the red stood out, vivid and fresh, dotting your skin in a stark, almost mesmorising gojo as they welled up and began to trick in thin, crimson trails.

"stay still," gojo rasped, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, pressing closer. his mouth met the fresh blood pooling on your skin, tongue tracing over the small rivulets that had seeped from beneath the bandage.

he lingered, almost savouring the taste, his eyes darkening as the sharp tang of iron lingered on his tongue, smacking his lips slightly as he drew back, gaze fixed intently on you, on your heavy breathing as he stole away another kiss from you.

gojo's lips left yours briefly, his breath ragged as he stared down at you, his eyes wild underneath the blindfold, gasping as your nails reached up to hook the fabric down so his hair loosened, falling around his face.

you were staring back at him, breathless and wide-eyed, and in that moment, gojo knew — he couldn’t stay away from you. no matter how much he tried.

your lips were soft, so soft, but there was fire behind the way you kissed him back, your hands landing on his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. he groaned, deep in his throat, and his fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you closer.

his mouth moved urgently over yours as he shifted to stand beside the bed, his body hovering over you, every muscle tense, straining with the desire that he had tried so hard to ignore. gojo just couldn't think about anything else.

and your lips broke apart only briefly, and you let out a soft laugh, that damn, dangerous laugh of yours. "you're greedy, you know that."

his chest heaved, and his heart pounded in his ears, and blood was now pounding to his nether regions. he wasn’t sure if it was the previous anger or the ache between his ribs, but he couldn’t stop himself as he threaded his fingers through your soft hair, "i am greedy. greedy for you. only you - mmph! shit!"

you had run your long, painted nails (with the little painted charms on the end) down his neck before pressing them, hard enough to cause a sharp sting.

"you wanted to put me through hell," he whispered harshly, and his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, "until i realised i liked it. until i realised i wanted you, all of you."

his hands moved down to your waist, squeezing gently as his lips found the tender spot beneath your ear, trailing kisses there, letting his teeth sink in, to see small bruises appear. gojo's breath was ragged as he fought to keep control, and something deeper inside of him roared with the need to claim you completely.

"you’re mine," he growled against your skin, the words hot and possessive. "i don't care what happens. you’re mine now."

you tilted your head, still smiling, but this time there was something different in your eyes — something that burned with the same intensity. "if i'm yours, what are you going to do about it? hmm, satoru?"

and that final thread, that last remnant of honour that he had been nurturing and holding onto, snapped.

"is this what you want, princess?" he draws out the nickname, letting it roll off his tongue, as you suddenly inhale sharply. his hands are all over you now, large hands exploring and kneading at your torso, and before he can even let you blink, they're under your top.

he's pressing his hot mouth to your sternum, wet and open-mouthed, and he wonders what sort of effect you have on him. what force in the world leave him panting like this, desparate as his hands find their way behind your back, to unclip whatever's holding your tits in place — just so he can reach back and run his palms over your hard nipples, flicking them and rolling them in between his fingers.

and faintly, in the back of his mind, he's aware that his reversed cursed technique must be working overtime, because suddenly you're rolling forward into him with no care in the world for your previously injured shoulder, as your own hands trail down the front of body, right over his bulge.

but he slaps your hand away, pressing you flat against the mattress, "fuck, not yet. you think i'm just going to let you get away with all this," and as you mewl a soft yes, followed by a please, he rolls his eyes, "wait. behave and i'll give you what you want."

and then, softer, "need to make sure you're ready first."

his arms are caging both sides of your head, and he's got one hand on the headboard (although, you will marvel at the burnt imprint that he's left, later) and the other is tearing your top off, just so he can lean down and let his canines press into the soft fat of your chest, so he can slip a pointed nipple into his mouth and tug it, ever so gently.

but gojo needs to continue lower, and his hand squeezes at the waistband of your short skirt, snapping the elastic twice as you heave your bare chest, "please, please, satoru!"

it's heaven down here for him, and gojo's dizzy at how outstandingly wet you are, with just a single swipe of his fingers in the soft, damp fabric of your underwear.

your clear, sticky arousal clung to his fingers, stretching in thin, glistening threads as he spread your thighs apart, knocking your knees to either side so he could slot himself in between them. your slick shimmered slightly under the light, translucent and tacky and he just couldn't help himself, bringing them up to his mouth to slowly taste.

"shit, princess. you taste so good, can't believe this is what i've been missing out on."

he's playing an instrument, he thinks. gliding his fingers along sodden folds, twirling his index finger past a thick wad of skin and pressing right over your clit in hot, tight circles that have you bucking your hips, "hnngh, right - ah, right there 'toru!"

'toru.

as a reward, he plunges his middle finger straight into your gaping heat, your tight wall of ringed muscles that had been fluttering in light pulses for his attention. fuck, he almost reaches his own climax by feeling how you squirm and writhe, moan and mewl as he starts pushing his finger in, and then out.

in, and then out. in, once more. and out, again. and then, another finger.

his fingers sank into your soft, damp pussy — which yielded easily enough with a soft pssh! as the digits pressed in. gojo pulled his hand back out from your thighs, enjoying the tight resistance and suction as your cunt has resisted being empty once more, leaving a cool moistness on his skin.

but now your hands gently cup his face, and he isn't sure how to not crumble with how you look at him, eyes wide and glossy, "wan' more, want your cock, 'toru."

now, gojo feels as though he's truly ascended, gone onto some higher plane of existence. because how can he resist when your hands are weakly pawing at his belt, at his waistband and he's letting you pull his thick shaft out.

it's hot, and already weeping angry tears of pre-cum, and he just loves how your eyes widen at the sheer size and girth.

"yeah, princess was sooo brave earlier, wasn't she? wanted my cock, ah! shit - did she?" and he's letting the wide tip lay heavy against your clit, knocking it once, and then twice, through your heavenly folds.

you've reached a leg up, and around his waist, pulling him closer and gojo has to pierce his lip with his teeth to not let out a gutteral groan from his cock sliding through the your folds, "i don't - don't care, i really don't fucking care if it's too big. just put it in now, m' so wet, i'm wet enough."

your babble is endearing, and he marvels at how easily he has you cock-drunk without even being in you right now. he jostles further, until the tip is right at your flittering entrance, pressing forward and slipping through the heated, slick gummy texture in a way that has the strongest's head spinning.

"easy, princess. oh fuck, you're too tight. way too tight, i'm gonna -" and gojo inhales, steadying himself, as the wet heat enveloped him as he moved, each slide through the soft walls of your pussy leaving him acutely aware of every inch, the warmth coating him further until your slick was dampening the white, stray hairs of his groin.

he pulls your lips close again, one hand coming up to gently cradle your head, and his fingers weaving slowly through your hair.

"you're so deep in me, 'toru! so - hnngh," and your words are cut off by a staccato thrust of his hips, and your teeth clack around a moan that gojo gladly swallows.

"hey, i'm right here. i've got you, yeah? got you so good, just hold onto me."

and he keeps a steady pace, plunging into molten silk, with a sensation so intense and so enveloping that it left him breathless, with a rush of heat that made his head spin.

he's toying with your tits, pressing his face into the shadow that lies between your mounds, and gojo's certain that he could die a happy man like this, exactly like this.

he realises that the faint laugh is coming from him, so distant is he in his pussy-drunk reverie, that he realises he must look and sound like a madman, "pretty pussy is so tight, so fucking tight. haah, i think i'm gonna have to fill you up, gorgeous?" and he must be blathering, "want me to fill you up? shit- want me to stuff... ah! stuff you so full of cum that we just hafta stay in this bed all day then?"

he had his fingers now moving in circles over your throbbing clit, exerting a gentle pressure that had you so beautifully keening and bucking your hips up, jolting right into his pelvis. and gojo bit back as a groan as his heavy balls started to smack, and smack! over and over again, right onto your dampened skin.

"she must be close right, pretty little pussy must be almost tired now," and gojo's now slapping your clit, lifting three fingers up and bringing them down with enough force to not harm you, but make you jolt, "she. must. be. so. close." and each word is punctuated by the slippery spank of his fingers bouncing right off your mound.

"makes me want to have you - you and her," and gojo's revelling in the slick of your pussy, now throwing his head back without shame.

and when your walls start to flutter, when you start writhing in his grasp, pressed right against his chest with your legs knocked back as far as they reach on other side of his broad frame, he feels himself unravel. feels the rhythmic quake of your tight cunt literally milk him dry, letting pools of thick, white seed plug within you, and he almost shakes and tears up himself, at the idea of claiming you like this.

later, he has you resting against his chest and the knot in his chest, that nasty plague that sent him afoul has disappeared, and gojo feels as though he's about to start purring, from the feeling of your nails trailing little shapes over his skin (little hearts, perhaps?) and how soft your hair feels under his own hands. he can't resist himself from pressing his lips softly to your forehead, "happy?"

you laugh, a genuine, soft sound that erupts from your chest as you press your bare body into him, "you have no idea."

[jasontoddweek2025]

Jason Todd Week 2025 - January

Rules | Playlist | Playlist Guide | AO3 Collection | Discord

Jason Todd Week 2025 will run January 6th - 12th this January!

There will be two aspects to this event:

The main part is the prompt challenges. There are three prompts per day. The first is a word prompt, the second is a general trope, and the last is a fandom-specific prompt. You can use one, two, or three of them—it's up to you! Each prompt also has a song corresponding to it in the playlist. A playlist guide will be out shortly so that you can know what songs there are if you don't use Spotify.

If you post on Tumblr, you can use the tag #jasontoddweek2025. There's also an AO3 collection (Jason_Todd_Week_2025).

The secondary aspect is another opportunity to participate if you don't feel comfortable creating art, writing, or other media. Each day of the week, there will be a be an open-ended question about your opinions/ideas related to Jason Todd that you can respond to. For example, "What is your favorite Jason Todd headcanon?"

Feel free to join the Discord!

Prompts Day 1: Drive | Time Travel | The Batmobile Tires Day 2: Joker | Chronic Pain | Fear Toxin Day 3: Monster | Supernatural AU | League of Assassins Day 4: Grave | Buried Alive | Immortal Jason Todd Day 5: Family | No Capes AU | Jason is a Literature Nerd Day 6: Scars | Enemy to Caretaker | Red Hood and the Outlaws Day 7: Return | Outsider POV | Crime Alley Substitute Prompts: Lifeline, Royalty AU, Reverse Robins

[soniaknox]

How To Write A Plot Twist

1. Lay the Groundwork (Set Up the Twist)

• Plant clues: Leave subtle hints that seem insignificant at first but gain importance in hindsight. These are “breadcrumbs” for the audience.

• Establish expectations: Lead the audience down a path of assumptions. Use misdirection to make the twist feel unexpected but not out of nowhere.

• Avoid obvious tropes: Be aware of overused twists (e.g., “It was all a dream”) and either subvert them or build upon them uniquely.

2. Build the Tension

• Create stakes: Make the audience care deeply about the characters or the situation. When the twist comes, it should feel like a significant shift in those stakes.

• Add foreshadowing: Subtle hints or recurring motifs make the twist feel earned. For example, if a character turns out to be a villain, tiny actions or dialogue could subtly reflect their true nature.

• Play with timing: A twist often works best at a moment of high tension, where it either resolves or exacerbates the conflict.

3. Deliver the Twist

• Surprise and clarity: The twist should shock the audience but also make them say, “Of course, that makes sense!” upon reflection.

• Keep it believable: Even if surprising, the twist must fit within the story’s internal logic. If it feels random, it risks alienating readers.

• Reveal it organically: Use character actions, dialogue, or key events to unveil the twist naturally rather than outright explaining it.

4. Deepen the Story

• Shift the stakes: A great twist doesn’t just shock—it recontextualizes everything that came before it. It might make readers see previous events in a new light.

• Challenge characters: Show how the twist changes their motivations, relationships, or trajectory.

• Keep momentum: The story shouldn’t lose energy after the twist. Instead, it should propel the narrative into a new and exciting direction.

Types of Plot Twists

1. Identity Reveal: A character isn’t who they seem (e.g., a friend is the villain).

2. False Assumptions: The audience and/or characters misunderstood an event or situation.

3. Reversal of Fortune: Something unexpected dramatically alters the protagonist’s circumstances.

4. Unreliable Narrator: The perspective we’ve trusted turns out to be false or misleading.

5. Hidden Connections: Two seemingly unrelated elements turn out to be connected.

6. Misdirection: A red herring diverts attention away from the true twist.

Examples of Great Plot Twists

1. The Sixth Sense (Identity reveal): The protagonist is dead the whole time.

2. Gone Girl (False assumptions): The missing wife orchestrated her own disappearance.

3. Fight Club (Unreliable narrator): The protagonist and his enemy are the same person.

4. The Others (Reversal of fortune): The protagonists are ghosts, not the haunted.

5. Shutter Island (Hidden connections): The protagonist is a patient in the asylum he’s investigating.

Pitfalls to Avoid

• Predictability: If the twist is too obvious, it loses impact.

• Lack of setup: A twist without groundwork feels unearned.

• Twist for twist’s sake: Don’t add a twist just to shock; it must serve the story.

[callmemaeverick]

Livin’ La Vida Loca - A. Aretas

Pairing: Armando x f!Reader Summary: Armando was doing Armando stuff, brooding and minding his own business, when someone jumped on his bike and told him to go. (This man got me writing again, but I needed to start slow. Then I saw this reverse trope thing about accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss, and well this happened)

WC: 600 TW: Gun. Senior Aretas

Armando kicked up his bikestand and revved his engine, his head in turmoil. He almost had him, the detective, but he could not bring himself to pull the trigger.

And something was not right with his mother and he was more than a little confused with her motives. She was hiding something from him and despite all that he did for her, she won't tell him everything. He had done all that she asked of him and he did it with little to no help. Sure, he had people working for him, but he hired these people not a few months before and all of them through fear and intimidation. He was alone. He had no one to trust.

He was about to take off, when all of a sudden, his bike rocked as a weight landed behind him. Hands wrapped around his middle and instantly, his gun was in his grasp.

"What the fuck?!" He exclaimed and turned as far as he could. All he saw was a pair of panicked eyes.

"Go, dammit! Go!"

One day, when he looked back on this day, he'd wonder what made him did what he did. But he was glad for it.

He holstered his weapon, shifted into gear and drove off. Within seconds he had reached a speed that was way too fast for riding by the pier, but that was not what was on his mind then. The hand around his middle clutched at his jacket, making it tighter around his torso and a glance downward showed Armando that the fingers had dug deep into the leather.

"What the fuck happened to her?" He wondered.

He drove fast, weaving between cars ad buildings until the harsh breathing behind him calmed somewhat. When he found a less busy street, he pulled over.

The weight behind him shifted and then she was beside him, trying to tame her winblown hair. But what struck him, was that she was smiling.

xxxx

"Wheew," You whooped as you got off the bike to face its rider, pushing your hair from your face. "That was fun! I don't know if I would've gotten outta there if I hadn't seen you. So, thank you. You saved my life.”

The man was looking at you through the visor of his helmet, you were sure of it. You could sense his confusion, though you could not see his face.

"Right, I guess I owe you an explanation." You felt self-conscious, and slighty embarrassed. Now that you think about it, what you did was stupid and reckless. "It was nothing bad, I swear, though with us being strangers and all, what good is my word right? I mean, for all you know I could be a criminal."

Dammit, stop rambling.

Suddenly the bike was shut off and the rider straightened before he pulled his helmet off. And you stood stunned at the beauty that graced you.

"Oh, wow, you're..." You trailed off and he quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes?" Even his voice was hot.

"Nothing," You said quickly. "As I was saying, I wasn't doing anything bad. We were just protesting peacefully, you know, for the turtles."

An incredulous smile appeared. "Las tortugas?"

"Y-yeah, the turtles. We were by the beach when these police guys came trying to break it up. So we made a break for it.”

The handsome man in front of you chuckled and shook his head. "Esta loca,"

"I am not crazy, okay," You argued back, but there was no heat in it. He was at least a little bit correct. Not that you’d admit it. Instead, you held out your hand and introduced yourself.

He looked at it for a second, the back up to your face, as if hesistating.

"What? Scared?" The challenged seemed to spur him on as the rider smirked and took your hand in his.

"Armando,"

"Alright, well, thank you for the assist, Armando. Don't be a stranger, alright?" You released his hand and walked away, feeling his eyes on you until you turned the corner.

FIN

[wwreversetropefest2024]

Author Reveals are Here!

WW Reverse Trope Submissions:

A Good Boy by PeaceLilyWallArt (E, 11/11)

a memorable valentine's day by blue_violets (G, 1/1)

A Study of Muggle Tropes: One Bed by New_Ponyo (E, 3/5)

Across Enemy Lines, Before the War Begins by @midnightstargazer (T, 1/1)

Baby Carrot by @jelliewrites (E, 1/1)

Blood Traitor by @motherofdogs18 (E, 3/?)

Break Me In by @allofthelights11 (E, 1/1)

Bump, Set, Spike by @browneyesandhair (G, 1/1)

Cheers! once more, with indifference! by @romaniuca (T, 1/1)

Close Combat by @morgan-magic (E, 4/4)

Crash Into Me (Or, There Were No Beds!) by @Gr8t888 (E, 1/1)

Draco's Sugar Mommy by @dizzle0000 (E, 3/3)

Everyone deserves to be happy, except Pansy Parkinson by dearest_writer (T, 1/1)

Footsteps in the Night by @M1dn1ght_Star (G, 1/1)

i bloom, i grow (i glow) by @b-lovedhunter (E, 3/5) @

If History's Clear by @browneyesandhair (T, 1/1)

It Comes With Practice by @sailtomarina (E, 1/1)

Last Kiss by beanclip (M, 1/1)

Last, First by @sessediz (T, 1/1)

Many Little Deaths by Slytherindiaries (E, 1/1)

Miscellaneous Tasks by @moonriverfox (T, 1/1)

Perfect From Far Away by @themaryscribbler (E, 1/1)

private displays of affection by @mintyelbows (E, 1/1)

Red Heads & Herrings by @RatKingPoe (E, 9/9)

She Will Be Loved by Midnight_Shooting_Star (E, 3/?)

so hot you're hurting my feelings by @ktsaysthings (E, 1/1)

sweeter than being alone by @moonriverfox (E, 1/1)

The Anti-Marriage Law by @Gr8t888 (E, 1/1)

The Boy Who Cried 'Love' by @moonriverfox (T, 1/1)

The Boy Who Was Unaware by TheHeiressofDarkness (E, 1/1)

The Fate of Our Circumstances by @kaycares22 (E, 3/14)

The Space Between by @laserswordtraining (T, 3/3)

then, a memory by mintyelbows (G, 1/1)

Thinking by @my-castles-crumbling (T, 1/1)

Top or Bottom? by Trauma_Bingo_Board (E, 3/3)

UN/BOUND by @hanniesalwaysreading (E, 3/?)

What do you mean, we can't get married? by RavenclawViking (M, 1/1)

To be valued by beanclip (T, 2/2)

What's the opposite of love? by @browneyesandhair (T, 1/1)

where wolves fear to prey by @sultrynuns (E, 1/1)

Years to Come by @browneyesandhair (G, 1/1)

I'm so proud and amazed by all our hardworking participants! Thank you so much for sharing your works with us! 🔁

[dramioneasks]

Give the ultimate uno reverse to your favorite tropes. Invert your favorites (enemies to lovers, how 'bout lovers to enemies?) in this creative writing and art fest!

Sign-up Opens: Sun 18 Aug 2024  Sign-up Closes: Tue 12 Nov 2024 Assignments Due: Wed 13 Nov 2024  Works Revealed: Sat 16 Nov 2024  Creators Revealed: Sun 24 Nov 2024 

[thecapricunt1616]

Papaya (c.b one-shot)

Part one here

Blurb (More BTC!) : He knew you were that out of your mind, when he pushed his way through the house, shouting “Squish? SQUISH!” Over the music as well as he could and he found you being basically fucking molested by some meathead that had a good 6 inches and 75 pounds on him. The sight made him so enraged, it made him see red so quickly, it made him black out in anger. He came to again a few moments later after he uppercut the guy so hard he fell back on his ass, and then punched him in the face so hard that his nose started bleeding.  “Bear?” You said confused 

“See the fucking cup, asshole?” He seethed, everyone was watching now as he dumped the remainder of your icy drink on him and crushed it before throwing it at his shocked face “ the blue cup means she’s taken”

♡ One-shot inspo: Papaya is associated with femininity & strengthening love connections. Hang twigs of papaya wood over a door to keep out evil. Eat papaya with a loved one to intensify your love. Mix papaya leaves with mandrake and burn or use in the bath to reverse hexes and jinxes. ♡ Summary: You & Carmys first time, F/U to 'Very First Time'♡ W/C: 4.7k ♡ A/N: EEEE It's here! The first was recieved so well, & my sweet @carmenberzattosgf requested a part 2 as well as this sweet anon, so I had to indulge! I hope it is everything you wanted <3 Who's ready for some sexy sexy Carmy tomorrow!? I know I am!!! I can't believe this is my last piece before the drought is over...It has gone so freaking fast!!! I can't wait to meet all the new fans that this season brings <3 :) (P.S. If you were tagged, it's BC you asked for a part 2 or are my moot!! <3) P.S - Tumblr was really trying to get me to commit murder while formatting this JFC ♡ Warnings for BTC: SMUT SMUT SMUT, College relationship, childhood best friend trope, virgin!carmy, Fem!/AFAB!Reader, R has long hair, No use of Y/N (r goes by childhood nickname 'squish' ), Drunk men being pervy, Physical violence, Angry Carmy

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡ ➵ My 300 Follower Celebration Bingo!

You stumbled into the nearest vacant bathroom (with your drink in hand of course) as Miley Cyrus’ We Can’t Stop bumps through the speakers of the frat house so loudly that the floors shook. 

The amount of stinky sweaty bodies and drunk people making out in various corners of the hallway would usually get to you if you weren’t so out of your mind. You weren’t exactly sure which drink you were on yet, but you did know that when your best friend Paisley had challenged you to a keg standoff and you weren’t a quitter, so you couldn’t count just how many beers you had chugged. 

You tried to count on your fingers as you hovered above the nasty toilet seat to pee just exactly how many red solo cups of mostly liquor with a bit of mixer you had consumed. You were distracted by that nasty toilet seat, wondering how the boys that live here don’t gag whenever they come to pee. You were happy that Carmy wasn’t in a frat. You were really happy that Carmy wasn’t in a frat, the guys here were assholes. Most of them, anyway. 

You grabbed your blue cup, that insinuated you were taken or dating someone steady, out with you back into the hot sticky living room, to hear someone (probably paisley, it had to have been paisley or one of your other sorority sisters) had requested they play Girls by The 1975, you tried finding her but got distracted by hands on your waist and “I love your shirt” in your ear. It was a voice you didn’t recognize, you could tell the man towered over you by the way he had to hunch over to talk to you. 

Carmy was bigger then you, but not that much bigger, this guy would probably have a head on Carmy. He had grown just like Mike said he would, and it looked amazing on him. Funnily enough though, even though you had been dating since the week you graduated high school - and you were now juniors in college, he still hadn’t slept with you yet. You often after you left his house to head back to your sorority house since they had a curfew, would cry to your sorority about how he still only wants to do oral. 

He didn’t often want blowjobs unless it was a special occasion, he would tell you your hand is fine and you don’t have to do ‘all that’ even though you wanted to- you figured since he was saying that he didn’t want you to. You weren’t aware - but Carmy was kicking himself in the ass every single day that he hasn’t fucked you the way you deserve yet. He was honestly getting worried he was going to lose you to some guy who would. You had asked him, he had told you that he wasn’t ready to go that far with you yet, that he wanted to wait and make it special. 

But in all reality he was terrified out of his mind. He knew he could make you cum with his mouth, but his dick?! He had to dig his nails into his palms until they near drew blood whenever you put your fucking mouth on him, so if you let him fuck your cunt?! He was worried he was going to cum in 3 strokes and you would laugh and break up with him and tell him you were better off best friends and there goes his only friend and the love of his life and the person he wants to marry. But he found himself asking as he fantasized about marrying you how he was supposed to do that if he can’t even find the balls to fuck you right. 

His anxiety was what led him to calling you 3 times tonight, because you were late - and you were never late - because the two of you wanted to spend as much time as possible together since his schedule was so packed between working at the beef and going to classes part time. He was nowhere near graduating, that was because he was stacking his money away in a savings account that gained interest like Uncle Jimmy taught him, so that his graduation present to you could be the Chicago brownstone you both had talked about having together since high school. 

He found it so incredibly sexy and endearing that you put school first in your life, he wanted to reward you for it. He felt you deserved the world and more, since you were his world. Which is why, after the third nervous stuttering voicemail which is how you could tell he was really nervous, had gone unanswered? He opened the find my friends app and grabbed his brothers keys. 

“Mike I’m going…out!” He called and shut the front door before he could get questions about why the hell he of all people would be leaving the house past 10:00 on a Friday night. He anxiously mapped the location on his phone and hopped in the car. When he got there, though- he couldn’t even park near the house. He had to park a block over and walk because it was so packed with cars. He made sure to lock the car in case any drunkards were to try and sleep in it or think it was there’s, and put on the walking directions. 

Carmen had to deal with drunk behavior well - every night, so being with a bunch of drunk people wasn’t his favorite place to be - but for you he persevered, because what the hell were you doing here. 

You, currently, were inside, grinding on the same guy that had come up to you to Mirrors by Justin Timberlake. You had finished another drink, and forgotten completely it wasn’t your boyfriend behind you - and didn’t even have the mind to ask yourself what he would be doing there. Said boyfriend was currently pushing his way through the kitchen, and rolling his eyes and the ‘single, taken, DTF’ different colored cups on the counter as he tried to find you. 

He knew you were that out of your mind, when he pushed his way through the house, shouting “Squish? SQUISH!” Over the music as well as he could and he found you being basically fucking molested by some meathead that had a good 6 inches and 75 pounds on him. The sight made him so enraged, it made him see red so quickly, it made him black out in anger. He came to again a few moments later after he uppercut the guy so hard he fell back on his ass, and then punched him in the face so hard that his nose started bleeding. 

“Bear?” You said confused 

“See the fucking cup, asshole?” He seethed, everyone was watching now as he dumped the remainder of your icy drink on him and crushed it before throwing it at his shocked face “the blue cup means she’s taken” 

He grabbed your arm gently “squish y’wasted. We're going home” he said firmly but not mean, and you stumbled next to him as people move out of the way since the entire room was privy to what just happened. You weren’t sure what happened all you knew was the man was behind you and then he wasn’t and then carmy was punching him and now you were in the car and Carmy was lecturing you about how worried he was. 

“He could have hurt you, angel. Please- I know it’s college and you can do what you want but I love you and those guys are all assholes, they’ll take advantage of nice girls the second they get a chance. And you’re so sweet squish, you’re too sweet. They don’t deserve to have you over” he squeezed your hand and brought it to his lips for what he knew was probably the hundredth time in the 35 minute car ride back to his house. 

You didn’t say much of anything that could make sense, but he agreed with you anyway. “And theee um. The the- what was I saying?” You look over at him at a red light with a drunk smile, your eyes glazed over from all the alcohol and cheeks hot with the rush of it in your system. 

“I dunno baby but you look cute” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead gently 

“Your knuckles are bleeding, did you hurt them?” You asked, the events from less than an hour prior already having been wiped from your mind. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head 

“M’fine squish, you need some water” he helped you out of the car, supporting most of your weight as you stumbled up the stairs of the Berzatto house, and he unlocked the door. 

“Ooooo you know what I want?” You asked and he smiled as he locked the door behind him and lead you to the kitchen 

“What’s that honey?” He helps you sit down at the table and grabs a glass, filling it with ice water 

“I want a bear special beef sandwich. Pretty please?” He came over and handed you the glass 

“Drink that and we’ll talk about it” he said and you obediently chugged down the glass as he went back to the fridge and got out the beef they didn’t use today at the restaurant and a pan to heat it in 

“This is good” you said, finishing it off and crunching on a piece of ice to which he cringed 

“Ugh y’teeth babe don’t do that!” He scolded as he always did when you munched on ice, taking it from you and filling it again, adding a straw before giving it back so you were less tempted to repeat your actions

He was cutting up a bell pepper for your sandwich when you asked “why won’t you have sex with me?” Which almost made him slice his finger but thankfully he missed it by a centimeter. 

“Who said I won’t” he looked back at you, his cheeks a pretty shade of pink as he flushed with embarrassment. 

“I dunno. You say you’re waiting but I want to and paisley says maybe you’re shy and if m’drunk maybe you’ll wanna do it more but the problem-“ you’re interrupted with a drunk hiccup “with that is, paisley said you have to be drunk too, and you aren’t.” You slurred, struggling to find your straw again to chug down the other half of your second glass of water. 

He stared at you, unsure of what to say and Mikey comes pounding down the stairs per usual and into the kitchen. A bull in a fucking China shop, just like Richie. “Yooo it’s squishy! Sup girl” he came over, giving you a brotherly push to the back of the head and doing the same to Carmy as he walks by to the fridge 

“Hey! You could have killed me I’m drinking!” You slurred, “but I’m asking Carmy why he won’t h-“

“Heyyyy!!! Hey hey squish no we’re not sharing those things” Carmy cuts you off quickly and looks over, shaking his head 

“She’s fuckin gone” Mike said to himself as he grabbed a can of soda 

“Yeah why do you think I’m fuckin having her eat and drink water?” Carmy quips, putting the beef into the bun he’d toasted and adding extra cheese for you on top how he liked it. 

“Mm. Make sure you have a few vomit bags ready I think the last time she was this wasted was her birthday” he headed back up to his room and Carmy sighed to himself, knowing he was right. 

“Who’s vomiting?” You asked, sipping the last few dribbles of water and he set your sandwich in front of you, taking the cup to fill again and you gasp, having forgotten you even wanted the sandwich “I was just gonna ask you to make me one too!” You said excitedly and took a big bite. 

He came back to the table, setting the filled glass down and sitting in the chair next to you, gently rubbing your back “chew it baby Jesus it’s not goin anywhere” he teased and pushed your hair back over your shoulders. 

“I know- it’s just so good” you mumble with your mouth full and he chuckled, shaking his head and wiping some grease that had dribbled down your chin off with the pad of his thumb, wiping it on a napkin. He didn’t know what came over him, maybe it was the fact that you wouldn’t remember - maybe selfishly it was because he knew you’d be brutally honest, but he asked 

“If we did have sex, and I didn’t last very long- would you be upset that you had to finish with my mouth or fingers instead?” His voice was laced with nervous curiosity, but he had to know this to be able to properly navigate having sex since you had been bringing it up more and more often as of late. 

“What?! Upset? I think I’ll cry with joy that I actually can have your dick in me it doesn’t matter how long” you said casually. He wasn’t sure what it was about it, maybe it was the tone of your voice - like it’s an every day thought for you, like you were aching to have him inside of you. Yeah, that was it. The coolness mixed with desperation, it made his cock stiffen a little more than he figured it should have. 

“Mm.” Was all he said, covering himself with his hand, it wasn’t like you would notice, anyway, but he was still ever so shy about you making him aroused - like he was doing something wrong. Even though you were his girlfriend of 3 years and you said I love you multiple times a day to each other. 

While he was helping you shower, and then helping you dress for bed, that was when it hit him. This weekend, his mom would be out of town for some work thing he didn’t care to know the details of, and Mike goes to the casino every Friday and stays out practically until 5 am. He would have the house to himself, and it would be the perfect time to finally have sex. 

He was mapping out in his mind the most romantic way to do it, flowers, candles, music? He told himself he had to do it right and make it a night to remember for the both of you. He had to cook for you - he figured he would make your favorite penne à la vodka, and he wouldn’t tell you about doing it just in case he bitches out. But the amount of thought he was putting into this, if he bitched out he was gonna be extraordinarily angry with himself. 

Your voice pulled him out of his head as if always did “bear” you said sleepily 

“Sup bug” he kissed your head tenderly and rubbed your arm as you nuzzled into his side. 

“Can you turn the tv down m’tired” you mumble into his shirt and he took the remote, turning it off. 

“Love you baby, g’night” he resumed rubbing over your hip as he got lost in his thoughts once again. 

 When the day came, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t bitch out. He thought about it 5 times that day and convinced himself not to, but now, now that you were sat at the table with him, a candle between you, giggling about how ‘romantic’ he had been acting tonight - he felt like a total fucking idiot. 

“I’m sorry, fuck- do you not like it? I read one of sugars magazines she left behind before she moved - they said girls like candles and music” he pushed it to the side and you shook your head, moving it back 

“I love it, bear. I’m just wondering why you’re treating me so special tonight is all, I’d have been a lot more dressed up and pretty if you’d have-“ he cuts you off

“You’re fuckin- y’perfect, squish. I love you, that’s why I’m doin it. I just wanna show you how much” he held your hand and squeezed it gently “you mean everything t’me. Really” he said and kissed your knuckles gently. 

When you made it to his bedroom, you realized he’d hung romantic little white string lights along his headboard to provide more ambient lighting, and that’s when it clicked what was happening. Your heart raced in your chest like a hummingbird trapped in a cage as his hands roam your body. 

You were sprawled out beneath him, both of you down to your underwear, the feeling of his lips nipping, and licking, and biting yours was enough to make you wet, but when his broad hands started palming your tits, his thumbs and forefingers massaging your nipples, you had to squeeze your thighs together to provide your throbbing clit some pressure. You were mewling and whining beneath him, he was panting and grunting into your mouth, your noses bumping with each unexpected kiss. 

“Carmy” you whine into his mouth, reaching to pull one of your hands off of your breast and he pulled away just enough to speak, lapis eyes boring into yours that were no doubt lust blown. 

“Y’good?” He asked gently, kissing the corner of your mouth chastely and eased his grip on your breasts. You moved the hand you were holding down, down, down, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your panties 

“I want you to touch me here…please” you said softly and hook your arm around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his sandy blond curls as you pull him back for a kiss his breath hitched slightly at the action, his cock twitching at your words which you felt against your thigh, causing you to smile a bit. He cupped your heat with his hand for a moment, causing you to grind onto it needily and he sucked on your bottom lip as he spread your lips to slip his middle finger over your sticky soaked hole, teasing it gently before trailing it up to find the throbbing erect bud. 

You gasped lightly at the contact, back arching a bit and moaning shamelessly, your voice coming out high pitched and whiny “oh yes” you said as he rubbed the pad of his finger back and forth and in circles, alternating between the two in such a way that was making your stomach tighten and thighs shiver. 

“Yeah?” He kissed your jaw “feels good mm? Sound so pretty, princess” he said hotly in your ear, gently nipping at your neck in the way that drove you wild. 

“So good you make me feel so good” you mewl as he moved his finger down again, thrusting it in and out as he does that beckoning motion with the finger and he gently rubbed your clit with his other hand. You sob in pleasure, fisting the sheets with one hand and tugging Carmys hair with the other. 

“Good girl tha’s a good girl” his husky voice and hot breath made you shiver even though with how close your orgasm was- you felt oh so hot. You felt him lick your sternum where he had watched a bead of sweat trailing down and that caused your eyes to open once more, to see his staring back like a round eyed cat. 

“M’gonna cum” you choke out, pulling the sheets harder to avoid hurting him by pulling his hair too hard. This brought a grin to his face, finding your nipple with his lips and sucking on the sensitive bud, just as he adds another finger, speeding up his beckoning motion. Your eyes nearly roll back when you felt his lips on your ear, encouraging you

“Yeah? Yeah pretty girl? Are you gonna cum f’me? Feels sooo good huh. Go ahead princess let me feel you cum on my hand I love it when y’pussy sucks in my fingers it’s so fuckin hot. Y’re so fuckin hot” your jaw fell slack in a silent scream, brows knitted together as he praised you while your orgasm came over you full force. You swore you saw stars behind your lids. 

“Please please please pleaaase bear” you found yourself begging, pulling him up for a kiss and he chuckled into your lips, pulling away enough to ask, 

“Please what, what baby what d’you want?” He cooed sweetly before ravishing your face with kisses which made your thumping, racing heart turn to goo 

“Please fuck me. Please- oh god please I fucking need you inside your fingers aren’t enough I need to feel you.” You begged, your voice was raspy, needy, he never heard anything hotter in his life. 

“Yeah?” He asked sweetly, resting his forehead on yours, nuzzling your nose in a eskimo kiss gently. “Open your eyes” he said softly and dried his hand on the sheets, pushing your sticky, sweat slick hair from your face and cupping your cheeks. Your eyes flickered open to meet his honest blue ones, blown with lust, glazed over with love. “Tell me again, I want to see you when you say it baby, so I know you want this.” He rubbed your jaw tenderly with his thumbs. 

“I want you to show me how much you love me, Bear, please” you said softly and he smiled in the way that showed off his little dimples, to which you kissed it gently before he told you 

“I don’t think there’s a way to show you just how much I love you, because it can’t even be described in words - but I’ll try anything f’you, squish” he kissed your forehead lovingly, lingering for a moment. Your eyes fluttered shut as you soaked in the moment, gently rubbing his back. 

“I love you too, more than words” you said honestly when he pulled away, grabbing a condom from his nightstand drawer and ripping it open with his teeth, an action that had you clenching around nothing, but hopefully that would be resolved in just a moment. 

“Now, if you want to stop just say the word, if you can’t find your words just like…bite me I guess” he teased and you giggled, shaking your head 

“Will do” you watch as he slipped off his boxers, rolling the rubber all the way to the base, he tugged off your panties that had been soaked through, tossing them in his laundry basket since you’d need new ones after which lived in his top drawer, and got between your legs. You watch as he strokes himself a few times with his hand and you felt your throat go a bit dry. What if you were the one to ruin it all because it wouldn’t fit or something? 

“You ok?” He asked gently as he caught you staring and you met his eyes again, putting on a smile and nodding, spreading your legs wider in hopes that might make more room. 

“Amazing. Excited” you said, it wasn’t exactly a lie, but you left off your biggest and most present emotion nervous. 

“Okay…that look says I’m worried so what’s up?” He held your hand, gently rubbing the back of it with his thumb and looking into your eyes. It was impossible to lie when he looked at you like that, even more impossible when you were both butt naked and his dick was in his hand. 

“What if it doesn’t fit?” You asked nervously. He chuckled as if he didn’t believe you, shaking his head

“I’m not that hung, babe. It’ll be fine. Do you care if I touch you?” He asked and you shook your head, swallowing thickly. He knelt on the bed with his left knee, leaning over you and nestling the tip of his cock between your folds and rubbing your wetness up and over your clit, causing a small gasp to leave your lips. He watched you carefully, for any signs of discomfort or that you were having second thoughts. 

Your lips were parted and little puffs of air fan his chin, eyes hooded in pleasure and little squeaks coming out of your throat each time his tip bumped your clit firmly and the ridge of it rubbed back down to swipe over your hole and back up to repeat the assault. You could cum just like this if he did it long enough. “Feels good?” He checked, intertwining your fingers and squeezing your hand lovingly. 

“Uh-huh” was all you could manage to get out and he smiled a bit, kissing your chin gently 

“Want me to try being inside Angel?” 

In response, a needier, whinier “uh-huh” 

He looks down for a moment, grabbing his cock and lining the tip up with your entrance. “Remember what to do?” He triple checked, this time- just a quick nod. He ever so gently eased his way in, his jaw tightening at the way it made his balls feel 10 pounds heavy, his cock twitching at the foreign sensation. He grunted to cover a whine instead, and you squeezed his hand tight, looking down and watching as he slowly pushed his shaft in about a fourth of the way and stopped, looking up at you. Once more. 

“How do you feel baby?” He gently rubbed your clit with his other hand, causing you to clench around him and in turn a unconscious moan tears from his throat “jeeesus fuck” he grunts, hips sinking in further in instinct and you squeak, shifting uncomfortably which made him look down and quickly pull back out to just the tip “sorry- fuck I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened are you ok?” He kissed your wrist. 

“Burning. Kinda. Not a bad, it feels…kinda good? It like…it feels like a good stretch when it almost hurts. And like…full. So full, but like a good full. A fulfilled kinda full, is that weird?” You rambled on all the thoughts swimming in your brain other than ‘cock feels good’  which was the main one. 

“Yeah? Feels good f’me too baby” he leaned in, kissing your lips and sinking in further, half way now. He kept kissing you, gently sucking on your tongue as you got used to the uncomfort of the stretch. “Can I try moving Angel?” He asked , almost into your mouth, you just respond with a huffy hum of agreement before pulling your lips back up to his. He very slowly at first started to thrust and had to let go of your hand to fist the pillow so he didn’t bust right then. 

“Holy fuck” he pants, nuzzling his face in your neck and continuing to rub your clit as he thrusted in and out. The feeling left you breathless, wordless, thoughtless. You were on cloud nine, you could die like this. You felt that sensation of an orgasm coming in your belly again, this was the quickest he’d ever brought you to another. 

“Bear-bear- I’m-“ you whine out, back arching and jaw dropping as his tip brushes your g spot and you nearly cry, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes at the intense pleasure it brought. “Cumming, cumming im cumming” you babbled, as your orgasm took over, clenching and unclenching around his cock in such a way that he literally couldn’t stop himself from spilling into the condom if he tried. 

The whiny grunt he made when he came was the hottest noise you had heard to date and was nothing short of beautiful. He bit down on your neck, sucking a pretty purple bruise into the skin before burying himself to the hilt as he shoots rope after rope of seed into the condom. Your thighs tightened around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders so hard they’d leave moon shaped bruises come morning that he’d proudly walk around the house with at breakfast so Mike could finally believe that he’s not just lying about doing sexual shit with you. 

You wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him there and relishing in the feeling. You felt like he was made for you, you fit together like 2 puzzle pieces. You knew he was your forever, but this solidified it even more. After he fucked you through both of your highs, he pulled out and laid next to you in a heap, panting for a few moments before he finally spoke

“Biggest mistake of my life was waiting so long to do that”

@carmenberzattosgf @daysofyellowroses @aestheticaltcow @l4long-winded @thehouseofevangelista @w31rdash @caramelberzatto @wtfsteveharrington

[femsolid]

Video games recommendation for women part 2

The same criteria as before: has to have a female lead and little to no misogyny

---

1. Shadow of the Tomb Raider

The seemingly invincible and endlessly talented Lara Croft goes on yet another adventure, this time exploring the Amazon jungle and South American ruins looking for a magical artifact hoping to prevent her enemies, an evil organisation called Trinity, from using it.

Tomb Raider is a franchise that has changed quite a bit over the years. Ever since the reboot, Lara has become a fully fledge character and she doesn't do rock climbing in a skimpy outfit anymore (which made the boys mad, boohoo).

But sadly she still suffers from her reputation of sexy girly indiana jones which I suspect is why women don't seem that interested in her. Shame!

It's not usually the type of games I like (very over the top "blockbustery") but I got hooked the minute I set foot (or rather crashed) in the Peruvian jungle. The game is visually stunning, I loved exploring all the ancient temples, the crypts, the jungle and seeing all the animals. The puzzles were challenging, the fights were fun, it was entertaining, well made, with lots of female characters and it takes place in Peru which is just the cherry on top for me.

The only thing I didn't like was Jonah but then I never liked him. He's Lara's best friend and is pretty much there to be kidnapped and rescued in every game, which is kind of a nice reversed damsel in distress trope I suppose, but still, you're useless Jonah I kept telling my screen.

2. Alien Isolation

In this game you play as Ellen Ripley's daughter who ends up trapped in a gigantic spaceship with a lethal enemy, of course, the infamous alien: the xenomorph.

This game is perfect if you are currently suffering from constipation. It doesn't rely on cheap jumpscares and gore to scare you no, it's all about the ~ambiance~. If you are found, you are dead, simple as. And you will die... A LOT. I got an achievement for dying 50 times. I was laughing hysterically whenever the alien caught me by that point and I think the alien was too.

They say "in space no one can hear you scream" but this alien can hear your footsteps so this makes for some tense gameplay, especially as the alien's AI is very good and you are extremely vulnerable. To survive you will have to be very mindful of the noises you make and the noises the alien makes. Oh yeah, you both crawl through the same ventilation system by the way. This could make for some awkward encounter... On top of having to deal with the alien you will meet androids and humans who aren't exactly friendly either. The goal is, of course, to escape from the ship alive.

I have to give the developpers props for really making us feel like we are in an Alien movie. The music, the ship's design, the alien itself, are all very faithfull to the movies and this game is rightly considered a classic.

3. Spiritfarer

In Spiritfarer you play as Stella (and her cat) who has become the captain of a boat on which she welcomes the spirits of different people who have died. She will accompany them for a while until it's time to cross the bridge and say farewell.

It's worth mentionning, given how rare it is, that the main character is a black girl. Your job is to manage the boat (make improvements to it) and become self-sustainable: you will grow your own food, build houses for each spirit and decorate it, grow trees, collect wood, fish, feed your guests. You can make a mill, a weaving workshop, a sawmill, a kitchen, a garden, etc and arrange it as you please.

Most importantly, you will travel the sea to meet new spirits, learn about their lives and fullfill their last wishes before they are ready to leave us. And then you will cry and cry and cry as the music rises and you give them one last hug.

It's a cosy game, slow paced, lots of dialogues, cute mini-games within it, and at times really funny interactions because it all looks so cute yet the characters act and talk like normal people (they told me to fuck off quite a lot) and they will often get into unprompted anti-capitalist rants. It reminded me of Spirited Away a lot, very strange and comfy at the same time.

It's a story about death, about how each person handles it, what they look back on, and yet it's a very pleasant game.

---

As usual I will add more to the list as I reblog it and, of course, if you want to recommend a game too, you're more than welcome. I've been focusing on games with female leads lately so I'll have a lot more to add.