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audliminal · 2 days ago

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Survivability Bias Pt 7

Masterpost - Ao3

Danny’s on his morning run when he notices the buzzing in his pocket. He stops short, stepping off to the side of the path, so he’s not in anyone’s way. It’s odd, having a phone again. He’s long since buried his old phone in his backpack. It died weeks ago, and he doesn’t really see any point in trying to charge it, when it can’t fulfill it’s primary purpose. The new phone from Robin is clearly far more advanced. It’s weird, having to use a touch screen, and Danny really hasn’t fiddled with it much. He doesn’t really know who’s paying for the service, but he’d rather not test their patience with accidental charges. So he’s only messaged Robin, and only to respond, on the few occasions Robin has had follow-up questions. Now, he pulls the phone out of his pocket, wondering what Robin needs, but instead of a contact name, the text notification lists a number.

Someone else is trying to call him.

Danny stares at the notification, fear condensing in the fathomless pit of his stomach. He’d known the phone was a risk when Robin had handed it to him. Had understood from the start that it was also a tool to track Danny. But there had been no reasonable way out of it; if Robin was going to make Danny exist, then he had to be able to contact him, for questions, or to let him know when his ID was ready. Sure, Superboy can listen for Danny’s voice, but he can’t exactly message Danny back without coming to meet him, and Robin undoubtedly doesn’t want to have to go through Superboy to talk to him anyways. So he’d accepted the phone, and he’d been careful not to go anywhere weird.

What Danny hadn’t considered, is the notion that Robin might give the number to others. Or, worse, that others might be able to find it (a trail is a trail is a trail). Now, here’s the clear evidence otherwise. Alarms flare in Danny’s head as he reconsiders, counting all the ways in which this whole thing was a terrible idea. He doesn’t have friends to help him here. He doesn’t even have Vlad to fall back on. Anonymity was quite literally his only protection and he threw that away for, what, the chance that he might be able to go to space camp?

Something touches his arm, and Danny leaps back, weight falling onto his back foot and arms coming up as he glares at the person in front of him. But when he pauses to process, the only person in front of him is an old lady who he’s seen around plenty of times before. Great. This is a public space, and there’s other people here, and he just acted like he was gonna fight an old lady.

“I’m so sorry!” Danny exclaims, snapping his arms down. “I just-” Danny fumbles for a moment, trying to think of an explanation that doesn’t sound like an excuse.

“Oh, there is absolutely nothing to apologize for, dear.” The lady says with a smile, even as she takes a half step back. “I touched you without warning; your response to that is your own. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh...” Danny says. “Okay?” He frowns, trying to remember if he stumbled or something before he stopped.

“Well, you looked at your phone and I thought you looked upset. So when you didn’t move after a minute, I thought you might have... well, I’ve seen that kind of reaction before, and it tends to not mean anything good.”

“Oh, that’s, um. That’s very nice of you.”

“Nothing of it dear! Now, I don’t want to pry into your business, but if you need an ear, or a hug, or just someone to sit with you for a moment...” She trails off. Danny blinks, and glances back at his phone.

“Um, I think- it’s fine. I probably need to go deal with this, but it’s nothing worth worrying about.” He plasters his best smile on as he says the last bit, and resolutely ignores the way her frown only deepens. “But I really appreciate the offer! I mean, really!” Danny takes one, then two steps back, then turns towards the entrance to the park, and sets off at a jog, calculating in his head.

It’s been about five minutes since his phone buzzed. Nothing’s happened yet, which means whatever situation probably isn’t hostile yet, so Danny presumably has some amount of time. And the first priority has to be keeping this poor town out of it, so the first thing he needs to do is get out of the town.

Luckily, Danny’s had a map of the best transformation spots building in his head since day one, so it’s a simple matter of running to the closest one, shifting, and then taking off under the cover of his invisibility. Once he gets some height, he starts scanning his surroundings for any odd activity, but everything in the town seems normal, so Danny refocuses, looking instead for a safe spot to deal with...whoever is after him now.

Five minutes later, Danny drops down onto an empty, overgrown lot, well away from anyone. The second his feet hit the ground, he looks down at the phone still in his hand. The unknown number is still there, staring him down from the notification screen. Danny takes a deep breath, and he swipes the phone open and begins to read.

Hey! I talked Robin into giving me your number so we could chat more easily! (it’s Superboy in case that isn’t clear)

Danny stares at the message, the dread in his stomach promptly evaporating, until all that’s left is a dense little nugget of embarrassment. Superboy. Who Danny knows and has talked to, and had been very friendly, and absolutely would have asked his friend Robin for Danny’s number. Because they’re at least sort-of-friends and that’s what friends do. They share their phone numbers and then send each other messages. And Danny reacted to a stupid message by panicking and fleeing the entire town like his phone was a bomb that he had to defuse in a desolate-ass field across from a shitty abandoned truck stop along an equally abandoned highway.

At least Superboy’s not here to see Danny look like a loser.

Hey! He quickly writes back. That’s a great idea, I’ll add you to my contacts :D

Danny hits send, then immediately takes off, heading back towards town. Maybe if he’s quick enough, nobody will catch that he left.

It’s kind of funny, in a way. Like, yeah Superboy had been acting friendly towards him from the beginning, but he hadn’t really thought about the other boy as being a potential friend or anything. There’s a part of him that feels guilty about it - that aches with the thought that he could be sending Superboy all the messages he would have sent to Sam and Tucker. He knows they’d call him an idiot if they could hear those thoughts, but the uncomfortable feeling doesn’t seem overly concerned with Danny’s attempts at rational thought.

He wishes they had come with him, even as he knows how unfair it would’ve been to ask. Their bond may be strong as hell (turns out half-dying in front of your friends makes for an unbreakable friendship), but his friends have families that love and care about them. Meanwhile, Danny’s family had always been a catastrophic mess. He’d always tried not to let himself think about it, but here in a different dimension, it’s easy to admit to himself how much it hurt to have his parents not realize he’d died.

They’d never even questioned it, not sought out a single further answer as to how the portal suddenly started working. Danny had spent weeks, falling through furniture and randomly going invisible, had suddenly started being targeted by their shitty home defense systems, and they’d never fucking noticed, because they’d been too excited that their beloved portal was finally working and now they could dig into their obsession all the more.

In retrospect, they should have realized Danny’s parents were ecto-contaminated far sooner. Even Box Ghost wasn’t that much of a freak for boxes.

“It’s fucking dumb,” Danny mutters, dropping down into an alley and transforming. “Fucking dead, and it’s a relief that they didn’t notice, because if my parents noticed anything about me, they’d only make my life fucking worse!” He punctuates the statement by kicking a half-crushed can as hard as he can, sending it flying directly at the wall. The clang echoes in the tight little alleyway, and again as it clatters to a stop a few feet away. He stands there, staring at the can for a moment, thinking about just letting himself cry. He imagines what would happen if he just collapsed onto the ground and started sobbing and never got up. It’s not like he has any responsibilities to get to, after all. Or, if he wanted, he could march back to the park and tell that nice lady that he’s not fine, and demand that hug she’d offered him. He’d feel dumb as hell, and it wouldn’t actually change anything, but he could.

He stoops down to pick up the can. Sam would want him to go recycle it. Superboy responds to his text with a goofy midair selfie.

* * *

Danny does not want to be doing math right now, so when his phone buzzes, he jumps at the opportunity to do literally anything else. Danny’s determined to do well in school this time around, and he’s willing to work for it, but trying to review and relearn everything he should have over the last couple years sucks. Luckily he’s found some useful resources that he can refer back to when he inevitably discovers something else he should have learned, but preparedness is definitely better than playing catch-up. He’s only going to have two years worth of high school grades, so each class is worth a lot more. Thinking about that, Danny kind of gets why Robin had offered to falsify his grades. He could only imagine how Jazz would’ve felt if her perfect GPA had been erased in Junior year.

But to Danny, the clean slate is already a boon. He’d quite literally scraped his way out of summer school by half of a percent this last year, and even though Junior Year had barely been underway when he’d fled, his grades had already been beyond recovery. And with no ghost attacks to contend with, Danny’s determined to prove he can get to college of his own accord.

Guess what! :D The message from Superboy says, when he opens it. It’s accompanied by a selfie, though it’s not taken in any of the rooms Danny’s seen in the many photos Superboy’s sent him.

Titan Tower’s been demolished and you’re all staying in Robin’s place for a week? Danny sends back immediately. He hopes that’s not actually the case, but Superboy’s always delighted whenever Danny sends him a snarky response, so he swallows the needle of anxiety. They’ve been texting for less than a week, but in that time, Superboy’s sent Danny dozens and dozens of messages. Solidly half of them are just random selfies, and the number that appear to be from inside their hero base has got to be some kind of a security problem, but Danny’s not about to challenge Superboy on it. It’s too reassuring, seeing the headquarters the teen heroes work from. Every selfie reveals more of the comfortable, spacious, and well-equipped base, and with every reveal, Danny feels a little more certain that they really aren’t being exploited.

Nope, comes the response. Then, a moment later, I’m at your new home! This is accompanied by another selfie, this one with an absolutely gorgeous framed print of the pillars of creation in the background. Danny straightens in his seat, as he stares at the message. He’d given Robin carte blanche when it came to furnishing his apartment. At the time of their conversation, he’d been overwhelmed and didn’t want to think about anything like furniture, but now that he’s had time to think he’s been feeling a little regret about it. Danny’s used to living with stuff that other people have picked out, and the idea of having control over his furniture actually does seem like it could be cool. Still, he hadn’t felt strongly enough to say anything, afraid to risk disrupting whatever work Robin had already done. Besides, he’d assumed Robin would just give him the are minimum, and he could add stuff later, when he finally had the money.

Danny’s caught between desperate gratitude and guilt. The print in the photo is beautiful, and exactly the kind of thing Danny might have chosen, but he also knows how much quality prints like that cost. He hadn’t thought about it before, but furniture has got to be expensive too, even if it’s just the bare minimum.

You still there, dude? Another text comes in and Danny moves to reply with shaking hands.

How much money are you guys spending on me?

The response isn’t immediate. Danny tries not to panic, but he can tell he’s going to fail. Instead, he shoves his stuff into his backpack as quickly as he can, holding his breath, because he absolutely can’t be trusted to stay quiet right now. He’s walking out the door to the library, when his phone finally buzzes again.

Okay so I sort of had to ask Robin why you would be worried about that, so like, sorry for the delay. There’s like a lot of gaps in my social knowledge? And I’ve never really had any control over what ppl do or don’t give me, so like. I didn’t realize that would upset you and I’m sorry? But also Robin literally said “not much, only a couple thousand” which is to say that I’m pretty sure he’s actually super rich and furnishing a home is literally peanuts to him.

Danny reads it, and then he reads it again, forcing himself to take deep breaths as he moves out of the doorway. Once he’s well away from anyone’s walking path, he lets himself collapse against the wall, sliding down until he’s curled up against the corner of the ground and wall.

It’s fine.

It’s gotta be fine. There is literally nothing in either of their behavior that has seemed even remotely cruel, and if Danny’s reading between the lines right, then Robin does this sort of thing to other people too, so it’s not even remotely about Danny. He doesn’t feel good about it, but logically it isn’t the level of problem that Danny is worried about. Danny can deal with the gross feelings. He can’t afford to do anything else, really.

After all, how the hell was gonna buy a bed? He has less than a hundred dollars to his name. Maybe he could afford it if he sold off the jewelry, but he absolutely couldn’t furnish a whole apartment. Besides, he literally asked for this. If he’s too stupid to realize the implications of asking for his apartment to be furnished, then that’s fully on him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, half on instinct, but really, what is ignoring Superboy going to accomplish?

Are you good? Do I need to find you? I haven’t gotten the hang of tracking heartbeats like Superman, but I can try? I like being your friend, please don’t let me fuck this up

Danny starts typing out a response. Deletes it. Tries again. He tries to lie and say he feels fine, but it just reminds him of the old lady’s expression the other day, and how she’d seemed more upset when he tried to brush his problems off. He takes another deep breath and tries to remember Jazz. They’d mostly avoided talking about Vlad. The whole thing was just so shitty and neither of them had the power to actually do anything, so they’d mostly pretended he didn’t exist, and Danny had done his best to play off the worst of his behavior. There had been one time, though. When Jazz had come home, upset about some conflict with a friend, and she had turned on him about it, lecturing him about boundaries and how important it is to tell people if you feel uncomfortable. She hadn’t explicitly said Vlad’s name but, well, who else could she have been talking about? So Danny forcibly gulps air down, and he tries to explain.

I’m not mad at you? Danny writes. I just - have a history with, like, gifts, and the idea of anyone spending much money on me makes me feel gross. Like in a ‘how is this gonna be held over me’ sort of way, y’know? He has to back up and rephrase a couple times, but eventually he feels like his response makes sense, so he hits send.

Crisis somewhat quelled, Danny gulps down another breath, and pushes himself back to his feet. There’s a mom nearby staring at him, though her kid seems focused on the book in their hands, so he mutters sorry, and starts heading down the street.

Oh. Yeah, I think I get that. Superboy’s response is quicker this time. Can I, like, tell that to Robin? He might have an idea of how to make it not-a-gift?

Sure, Danny responds. I think I’m gonna go for a run, so if I don’t respond, don’t stress out.

* * *

When Danny finishes his run, he’s got a picture from Superboy of an absolutely adorable dog, and one single message from Robin that reads Don’t worry. Meet us at Emery Park at 5. We can discuss the logistics of it then. Robin’s absolutely tragic reassurance doesn’t really make him feel better, but it is sort of amusingly Robin-like, so at least there’s that. Danny has no intentions of trying to study now though, so instead he just wanders the park for a while, before slipping off to transform. When he comes back in his ghost form, he feels incredibly conspicuous and pretty much everyone seems to notice him. Mostly they just smile and nod in his direction, but one person actually comes up to him.

“Hey, uh. My sister was one of the people you saved last month, so like, thank you. She means a lot to me, and I don’t know what I would have done if she’d-” They cut themselves off with a choked noise, and they absolutely look like they’re about to start crying. Danny gets it; he knows full well what happened in the world where something happened to his sister, but he also has no idea how to reassure them.

“I’m very glad I was able to help,” Danny tries. “Um, how is your sister?” Good, that’s how to be empathetic, right?

“Ah, well you know. The smoke inhalation had her laid up for a bit, but honestly I think she was more upset about losing her home, you know? But she’s staying with me for now, so we’ll figure things out.”

“That’s good,” Danny nods. They’re not wrong; losing your home sucks. But this random person absolutely does not need to be subjected to Danny’s long list of misfortune. Luckily they take their leave after that, though whether it’s a result of Danny’s expression or their own emotions, he’s not sure.

Nobody else approaches him in the time it takes for Superboy to flip over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Superboy says, grinning as he lands in front of Danny. “Whatchu been up to?”

“Not much,” Danny says. “It’s really not been a productive day.”

“Shit, sorry.” Superboy winces.

“Nah, even before that, I was trying to review math, so like. Focus has been majorly my enemy, you know?”

“Ready to start school, then?” Robin asks from where he’s walked up to stand by Danny.

“Eh, probably not ever gonna be, so it might as well happen.”

“Right, well everything is ready, so if you’d like to adjourn to the apartment to discuss specifics?” Danny nods, and follows as they head off again.

Instead of walking, Robin pulls out a literal zip-line, and they quite literally take to the rooftops, all the way to a nice-looking brick building, not far from the center of town. Danny would wager that it’s within a ten minute walk of the library and the nearest grocery store, which is pretty sweet. Danny can even see little balconies along the front, as they approach which is pretty cool. so he might even get a view. Instead of heading to the front of the building, Robin drops down to street level, and Danny finds himself in a little parking garage when he follows.

“We’re less likely to get spotted this way,” Robin explains as he walks through the parking lot. “I’ll erase the security footage of us, but the less people know we came here, the safer your identity is.”

“Makes sense,” Danny says. “I can, um, make you guys invisible, but I’d have to be touching you to do it.”

“By all means.” Robin says, staring Danny down.

“Cool, um,” Danny glances over at Superboy, who nods, so he reaches out to grip their wrists carefully, and lets his invisibility wash over all three of them. He lets Robin lead them through the door, and up three flights of stairs. He stops in front of a door labelled 305, and a moment later, the door is open and the three of them are stepping inside. Danny drops his grip on them as the door closes, taking in the room around him.

Danny’s half-formulated fear of some fancy, swagged-out apartment that constantly reminds him of Robin’s generosity seems ridiculous in the face of the cozy, simply appointed living space in front of him. Instead of a table, there’s a small bar area built into the kitchen with a couple of comfortable-looking stools, and the couch in the living room looks comfortably worn, so Robin must have gotten it secondhand. The decorations aren’t extravagant either. The framed print Danny had seen earlier sits proudly on the wall behind the couch, but aside from that there’s only a couple minor decorations, and a lamp.

He turns to look back at Robin, who immediately steps forward and holds up a key ring.

“This key gets you into the building, this one is to your apartment, and this one is to your mailbox. There’s also a bike room in the parking garage we walked through. That’s what this last key is for, though I would advise still using a bike lock if you decide to get one.” He holds it out, after he finishes, and Danny nods, trying to commit each key to memory. After a moment, Robin continues.

“Your lease is in the folder on the counter, along with your personal documentation and a couple other things. As far as the funding of this is concerned, I took the slight liberty of forward-funding this with your theoretical payout for the assistance you provided during the train crash last month. So, if and when you decide to legally declare your hero identity, I’ll back-file the paperwork for that.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He looks around the room again, and then back at Robin. The internet had been entirely unclear if Robin had any powers, but Danny’s decided he’s got to be psychic. There’s no other way he could have planned this all out so perfectly. “Okay, that’s, um. That definitely works for me. Thank you so much.”

“You’ve gotta see your bedroom, though!” Superboy explains, grabbing Danny’s hand and pulling him down the hallway, and through the last door.

The bedroom that greets him is similarly balanced as the living area. The comforter alone makes Danny pause. As long as he can remember, he’d always secretly wanted a space-themed comforter, but he’d only ever seen the goofy ones made for little kids, but this comforter is decorated with an absolutely gorgeous cover; the star-spattered blue-black of outer space giving way at the bottom edge to a view of the earth itself, atmosphere pale against the onslaught of space. It’s gorgeous, and doesn’t make Danny feel childish at all. The wall behind the headboard is similarly impressive, with what has to be a composite print of high quality images of every major body in the galaxy, from the sun itself to the dwarf planet Pluto (Danny hadn’t been certain how to feel about that particular difference in classification when he’d first arrived, but he’s come around to it by now).

“Do you like it?” Superboy asks.

“It’s amazing,” Danny says. Stepping forward and falling onto his new bed. “I actually can’t believe this is all mine.”

“Your name’s the one on the lease,” Robin says. “Although please do let me know if you have a hard time making payments. I’m more than happy to assist, and if you need to make it a loan to feel comfortable, we work that out.”

“Yeah, okay.” Danny says, looking around the space again. He feels a lot less anxious just being in this space. Vlad would never have done anything like this. If he’d ever been inclined to get Danny an apartment, there would have been reminders of him everywhere. It’s not even like the kind of unwanted stuff Sam would throw at him and Tucker. This whole apartment really feels like it’s meant to be his.

“There’s also the beginnings of a wardrobe in the closet. Not much since I wasn’t certain of style preferences, but a few basics and a couple nice shirts for any job interviews and the like.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He really should think of better responses to what Robin says, but he keeps saying things Danny hadn’t even considered.

“Similarly, there’s some food essentials in the kitchen. We can always take anything you dislike to a food bank.” Robin continues, unhindered. “And the secondary bedroom is currently set up to be an office. Since you’re doing the school from home option, I decided it was worthwhile to set up a separate space for you to do that from. Separating work and relaxation spaces can go a long way to not going insane.”

“Oh.” Danny feels like a broken record.

“Furthermore, to head off any concerns, the laptop is one of my old ones that was sitting unused in storage. The planner, however, is new, and it is a gift.” Robin says, his mouth turning up into a slight smile. Keeping track of what you have to do is the most difficult part of online school, and the planner should help with that. Just don’t get caught up in trying to use it the right way. Whatever works best for you is the correct way.”

“Damn dude,” Superboy says, staring at his friend. “How are you gonna go and make school sound like it’s kinda fun?”

“If you’re interested, I could get you signed up as well.” Robin’s response comes immediately.

“We should order pizza,” Danny says, flopping onto the couch. “Gotta hang out now before I get too busy with school.”

#dp x dc #dc x dp #the one where danny stumbles into a new universe and immediately guns for NASA #Am I putting far too much thought into minor aspects of governmental policy that will quite literally never be explored in detail?#yes #will i stop? no #this fic has officially decimated my original outline #but I think the direction it's going is well worth it #and I promise we will eventually get to space camp

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ccazimi · 19 hours ago

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Poltergeist!

cw: sukuna x ghost!reader, pure CRACK, humorous mentions of a foot fetish, heian era au

wc: 2.5k

a/n: perhaps i will continue this idk yet :P

Sukuna had found the perfect place to settle down after years of simply wandering amidst the forest. The shrine was nestled away within a misty crop of trees at the base of a large mountain, overgrown with vines and surrounded by towering cedar and pine trunks.

The wood had faded to a grayish-brown, bright vermillion paint flaked off to leave patches of dull red. It was large enough that the grounds included storage rooms, a sprawling overgrown garden, and servants’ quarters - all laid out behind the grand torii gate.

Perfect. After a few servants and workers he kidnapped from nearby villages, the place had come alive in no time.

What Sukuna didn’t consider was the possibility that the shrine was already inhabited.

It started with nothing more than a cold draft here and then, or an oil lamp abruptly extinguishing itself in the middle of the night. Sukuna swears his memory must’ve gotten worse since he got here too because he swore he’d closed the door to the garden last night, that he’d kept the manuscripts he was reading on the low table beside his futon.

Not to mention that slightly unnerving feeling that he’s being watched sometimes, late at night when he’s alone in his room trying to sleep.

Not even a week later everyone runs to a corridor after one of the maids starts shrieking at the top of her lungs.

Sukuna arrives disgruntled amidst the commotion, utterly aggravated that he was interrupted during a meal out of all times.

“What the hell is this all about?!” He growls, staring pointedly at the young woman who’s clearly been spooked by something.

“I- I think this shrine is haunted, Lord Sukuna…” She replies timidly.

Sukuna crosses both sets of his arms, unamused and looking at the servant like she’s stupid or something. “Haunted, huh? And how exactly did you arrive at this genius conclusion?”

“I- I saw a woman��in white, my Lord. With blood all over her clothes,” She points to the end of the hall, “standing there. Then she disappeared, and a second later I felt cold, icy cold, hands on my arms even though I couldn’t see anything, and…”

Sukuna cocks a slitted brow, wholly unimpressed by her account so far. “And?”

The maid hesitates, rubbing her head awkwardly before continuing. “And then I felt someone kiss my cheek, with the same cold lips.”

Sukuna blinks.

“You’re telling me a ghost kissed you?” He repeats flatly, just to show how ridiculous it sounds.

“Well…yes, my Lord…”

Sukuna wonders if he must have accidentally dropped this one in particular on her head when he kidnapped her from the village.

“Waste my time with some stupid shit like this again, and I’ll personally send you to the realm of ghosts myself. Understood?”

The maid has no choice but to nod in acceptance, as Sukuna commands everyone to get back to work. There’s no way his meal was interrupted for this shit.

Unfortunately for him, that’s not the last he has to hear of these kind of incidents- if this supposed ghost isn’t smooching people, it’s busy scaring the shit out of them. Before long, basically everyone agrees that the shrine must be haunted.

Well, everyone except for Sukuna, of course.

He refuses to entertain these ridiculous ideas, at least not until he sees something with his own (four) eyes.

Never mind all the other strange but small occurrences that have been taking place around him.

Sukuna's sleeping one night when he feels distantly like someone else might be in his room. He stirs a bit, an eye opening drowsily when he sees what seems like the figure of a woman standing by his bed.

He figures it’s one of his concubines looking for a late night fuck or something even though he hasn’t invited any tonight. They get real needy sometimes.

“Leave.” He mutters, closing his eyes again. “Not in the mood to fuck right now.”

“Hah. You couldn’t fuck me even if you wanted to, squatter.”

Squatter?

Well that wakes him up, because the King of Curses refuses to take any form of impudence even in his sleep.

He sits up on his futon. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking t-”

And that’s when he catches sight of you for the first time, a new face that he doesn’t recognize but certainly doesn’t mind looking at.

He squints. There’s something off about you.

You look a little pallid, like you might be sick or something with long unkept hair. Not to mention your white gown is splotched with red, and he swears he can kinda see the back of his room through you.

His gaze drifts downwards, where he notices that your feet are hovering an inch or two above the ground, and it clicks together for him.

“Why the hell are you staring at my feet? Out of all people who could’ve come in and taken over my shrine it had to be a four-armed freak with a foot fetish?”

“What?” His red eyes snap back up to you. “Who dares speak to the great Ryomen Sukuna with such bold impertinence—”

“Oh, shut up already, would you?” You huff. “I’m the shrine maiden that lived, died, and was resting in peace here till you arrived with all your little minions and disrupted my sleep.”

Sukuna scowls, eyes following you as you float around his room. “So, you’re the ghost that’s been terrorizing my servants, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “What, a spirit wants to spread a little love and now it’s called terrorizing?”

“Okay, let me specify: why the fuck are you going around and kissing the attendants?”

“Because you know how ridiculous it sounds to tell someone that a ghost kissed you? You would never believe them. Also, it’s kinda funny.” You’re on the other side of his chamber now, bending over to reach for the pot of sake on a table.

Unfortunately for you, your fingers pass right through it when you try to pick it up. “Dammit, this whole materializing thing takes a bit of practice…”

Sukuna watches as you try, and fail, a few more times to pick it up before finally getting fed up. “Will you stop that? Just tell me why the hell you’re here.”

You sigh, shrugging your shoulders. “I got tired of messing around so I decided it’s time to cut to the chase- I’m here to haunt you.”

One of Sukuna’s eyes twitches, while he stares at you like you have four arms yourself. “Haunt me? Are you fucking serious?!”

“Yeah. Until you get out of here.”

He scoffs. “And who said you could haunt me?”

“Well who said you could squat in my resting grounds. I got here first anyway.”

“I’m not squatting, I live here. It’s not like you do- not anymore, at least.”

You look at him once before turning to the sake pot and swinging your palm at it. This time you do manage to hit it, making it fall noisily onto the wooden floor and spill the alcohol everywhere.

Sukuna stands up, gritting his teeth. “What the fuck are you doing, stop that!”

You stare at him blankly, and Sukuna realizes this is the first time anyone’s looked at him like he’s stupid. “I’m haunting you. I literally just said that.”

A strangled growl of anger gets caught in his throat as he reflexively raises his hand and yells “CLEAVE!”

Thanks to the fact that not only do you not exist in this dimension, but also that you��re already dead, Sukuna manages to do absolutely nothing to you.

Instead it’s the wall of his room that receives the consequences of his rage, a large gash opening up in it as his attack goes right through you and into the wood directly behind.

You burst out in laughter, bending over while he glares at you with such venom it might be enough to actually kill a living person.

He’s just discovered the one thing he hates more than humans: undead humans.

To say the least, Sukuna is not having fun trying to live his life while being haunted by a mischievous spirit that’s hellbent on getting on his nerves in ways he didn’t even know was possible.

“Can you stop rearranging my furniture?” Sukuna growls in exasperation, waking up to find that except for his futon the layout of his room has once again been changed. You’ve really been on a roll with the interior redecoration lately, coming up with a new design every morning for the past week. “How are you even doing that?! You were literally struggling to move the sake pot not that long ago.”

He can’t see you but he knows you’re listening, and he’s proven right when you decide to show yourself. “Concentration and practice, I told you. Though it happens automatically if I’m feeling strong emotions. Besides your room looks better like this, don’t you think? Really opens up the place.”

Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.

Sure, it did open up the place, but only because you decided to take every single object and piece of furniture in the room and pile it right by the door. “When I find out how to exorcise you, you’re done for. I’m going to banish you to hell. You can do as much furniture rearranging as you want there.”

It must just be his horrible luck, because not only were you an extremely irritating spirit, you were apparently quite a strong one too, which he found out after several different exorcision rituals performed by Uraume had failed. The one time he’d thought it worked and was ready to celebrate, was just you pretending like you’d been banished before showing up again not even two minutes later.

He guesses becoming a spirit must also have given you a certification in theatrics too, because you love to pull them out on his servants whenever you’re bored- including but not limited to: running on all fours, running backwards on all fours, contorting your limbs and body in ways that aren’t anatomically possible, turning your eyes white and zooming after people while you screech that you’re going to catch and eat them…

Sukuna’s told his attendants and concubines numerous times that while there really was a spirit on grounds, it wasn’t malevolent and just really liked to fuck with them.

It didn’t ease their fears, with the kind of stunts you pulled off.

Not that you didn’t find pleasure in the mundane as well. In fact he thinks one of the worst things you do is just floating around his room while he’s trying to fall sleep.

Back and forth, back and forth, he sees the pale and slightly luminescent figure just floating across his chambers.

He tries to ignore it but the repeated action itches his nerves, so he closes his eyes but somehow just the knowledge that you’re probably still going back and forth pokes at him, and finally—

“Can you stop that?!”

“I’m bored.” You reply flatly.

“Go be bored somewhere else.” He grumbles, turning into his futon and cushions.

“Do you have memory issues or something? How many times do I have to remind you that I’m haunting you.”

“You’re annoying me, not haunting me.”

For a second he’s sure you’re going to retort back, but there’s a pause, followed by you saying. “Okay fine. I’ll stop. Goodnight!”

He finds it suspicious, especially the cheeriness in which you bid him goodnight.

He doesn’t question his luck though, as you disappear and he starts to feel his lids grow heavy.

And just about as he’s fall into sleep, he feels it—jarring, icy coldness against the hot skin on his back.

He, the King of Curses, shrieks, sitting upright and fully awake.

Beside him is his dear spirit, under the sheets and cackling.

“What the fuck was that?! Get out of my bed, this instant!” He thunders.

“My feet—they were cold.” You reply innocently, batting your ghostly lashes.

He looks at you like he wants to rip you apart, and then tear his own hair out. “Because you’re FUCKING DEAD.”

“I thought you were into my feet?”

“I do not like your feet, I don’t even like feet in general, can you quit with that already?!” Sukuna massages his temples.

“I could’ve sworn I heard you moan when I put them on you, though…”

He can’t even talk because of how mad he is, just lunging to throttle you by the neck purely on instinct. His hand goes right through your ethereal body, and he must really not like the feeling because he quickly retracts his arm with a disgusted sound.

You do nothing but laugh even more, as he cusses you out while shifting away from you on the futon, and burying his head under a bunch of pillows.

Over time Sukuna still does not like you or appreciate your presence, but his curiosity gets the better of him.

“How did you die?” He asks in his room one evening, seemingly with no one else in it.

Just as expected you appear, hovering in front of him and crossing your arms.

“None of your business.” You reply curtly.

“I think it is my business to find out about the spirit that’s haunting me. Maybe it’ll even give me some idea on how to get rid of you…” He adds almost wistfully, imagining a life in this shrine without you throwing things around every day or freaking out his servants.

But all you do is huff and disappear.

Weird.

Normally you always have something to say. Must be a touchy subject, he concludes.

The next time he asks you again- you do actually give an answer, rambling on dramatically about how you “saved the shrine from a monstrous curse” and “sacrificed yourself for the sake of the world”. He snorts skeptically, nearly impressed at your flair for drama.

He asks you again the next day. This time your story was that “a wandering warrior came to the shrine, and fell in love with you.” But according to you, the gods didn’t “approve” of your passionate relationship and decided to curse you, leaving him to walk away heartbroken while you completed shrine duties till the day you died.

You apparently don’t appreciate his suggestion that maybe he left because of how insufferable you must’ve been, considering how many dishes you decided to toss at him before disappearing while calling him a “brute with a foot fetish”.

Each time he asked, you just spun an even more elaborate and ridiculous story from the last, including everything from goblins to tragic prophecies that would’ve made Victorian romances sound like light work.

You must be getting bored too, because now instead of antagonizing him all the time you actually offer some helpful advice occasionally, regarding his evil plans.

Sukuna notices you getting restless, and decides that a bored spirit is an even more destructive one.

So he gives you the task of managing his servants, and scaring them into submission.

He thinks you’re a pretty good manager, because his servants have been so on top of it after you’ve been appointed that he’s barely even had to fire (kill) any. He hears you working from time to time, showing up behind poor unsuspecting maids and telling them “they must do the dishes faster, lest they feel your wrath.”

He still doesn’t like you but he isn’t quite as determined in his search for a successful banishing ritual anymore.

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disgruntled-detectives · 16 hours ago

Text

Some ramble that has been on my mind lately.

I’m a huge fan of John Finnemore’s writing and sketches. If you don’t know who he is, he’s an English comedy writer. He’s born and raised in the UK. And he has a radio sketch show called “John Finnemore’s Souvenir Programme” it’s a hilarious show and I highly recommend it. It’s made me laugh and honestly been a bright spot in dark times.

Occasionally, he has what he calls “meta sketches” where one person from the cast (there are five comedians in the JFSP cast) will address him about something in another sketch or make fun of him or something. And in one sketch, he pokes fun at Christianity. In the following meta-sketch, a cast member asks why he always makes fun of Christianity but not any other religion. And John responds with that Christianity is the religion he knows. He was born and raised in it and while he’s not a Christian, he recognizes how Christianity shapes British culture and always has. And it wouldn’t feel right to make fun of a religion he isn’t part of, and knows nothing about.

Then he says “actually the only other religion I know anything about is Judaism. And actually I’ve been thinking of a sketch idea based on a man I saw in London on a Saturday at a crossing patiently waiting for someone else to press the button so god wouldn’t he cross with him for working. And he’s perfectly right to believe that, but you can’t pretend there isn’t something a little funny about that.” And the sketch moves on.

This is the thing I’ve been thinking of. He said “the religion I know anything about would be Judaism” and then immediately in the *very next sentence* demonstrates a fundamental lack of knowledge about Judaism. In that “god would be cross with him for working” in that one sentence, he demonstrates so *clearly* the cultural Christianity that permeates western culture.

Because mostly…Jews *don’t* (can’t speak for all Jews obviously) believe G-d would be “cross at us” for violating the laws of Shabbat. We follow the laws out of a place of love. Not fear. We follow the laws because we believe they are part of the covenant G-d made with the Jewish people. We don’t believe in divine retribution. Like an orthodox Jewish woman I used to follow when I had TikTok said in a video, “if we break a commandment we don’t believe G-d is gonna strike us down or anything. We just acknowledge that we broke the commandment, say sorry, and then move on and try not to do it again.” And she has answered that question *numerous times* in numerous videos.

And Christians and former Christian’s have demonstrated time and time again that they fundamentally do not understand this. I was raised Christian. Catholic to be exact. And let me tell you, it’s fear. Not love that drives a lot of their rule following. Fear of going to hell and spending eternity being tortured and separated from g-d is a very real thing. They legit have something called “mortal sins” and missing Sunday Mass is one of them.

Because Judaism is a religion of orthopraxy. Not orthodoxy. In Judaism, what you do matters far far more than what you believe. You can be an atheist and an Orthodox Jew. Hell, I don’t eat pork. Do I think G-ds gonna be mad at me for eating bacon? No. Of course not. I don’t even really know if I believe in a G-d like that. I sorta flip flop between agnosticism and like a pantheist view. I don’t eat pork because I am a Jew. And it’s a commandment I chose to take on. Because I love being Jewish. Not out of fear.

Now I’m not saying this to hate on John Finnemore. Like I said. I am a huge fan of his work. I absolutely love Cabin Pressure, and JFSP, and Double Acts and just about anything else he’s written. I’m just saying this because it is clearly demonstrates the cultural Christian lens through which that people here in the west, including former Christian’s and now atheists like JF see the world.

So basically what I’m saying is that just because Judaism was the religion that Christianity sprang from, and you grew up Christian or even just in a Christian country in the west, does not mean that you know anything about us. It’s so easy to think you understand what Judaism is about because you’ve read “the Old Testament” and seen Fiddler on the Roof or something. And yet get even incredibly basic facts about Jewish worldview wrong because you haven’t grasped that Jews see the world completely differently. (Not to mention that 2000 years separate the split from Judaism of Christianity and Judaism developed and evolved on its own ever since. It’s a total and separate religion. But Christians tend to think we’re the exact same we were 2000 years ago. Which is why their minds are *blown* when we say that to us, Jesus is as irrelevant as Thor is. We literally do not care about your special boy. He may have been a Jew, but like…he’s a dude that lived over 2000 yrs ago.)

So basically what I’m saying is that if you are not Jewish, or at least put in serious work to learn about us, from us, you don’t actually know about Judaism like you think you do. Cultural Christianity permeates everything here in the west, and it’s a lot to unpack and unlearn.

#jumblr #judaism #jewish #jewblr #cultural christianity

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mimzywhimsy · 1 day ago

Text

The Bowens Problem: Breakups, Feuds, and Narrative Tension

Think about your favorite wrestling feuds in AEW. I'll name a few of my own from recent memory; MJF vs. CM Punk, Swerve vs. Hangman, Mariah May vs. Toni Storm, and Daniel Garcia vs. Jack Perry. I also like whatever the fuck The Elite have had going on, but that's a whole separate post.

What makes these feuds great? Three things come to mind: Pacing, History, and Character Work.

I'll start with the easiest: pacing. Groundwork needs to be laid. Foreshadowing. Length of time, to really establish the relationship. Rushing a feud is like jacking off to relieve sexual frustration; it might get the job done in the end, but is it really satisfying? Would MJF vs. Punk be as good if we didn't have them blatantly ignoring each other for weeks before meeting face to face on the mic? Would Mariah May's betrayal be as gutwrenching if we didn't follow her efforts to gain Timeless Toni's trust?

The Acclaimed's breakup feud is good when it comes to pacing. Max Caster has been calling himself the Best Wrestler Alive on TV for many months now, and we've seen how his attitude change has slowly worn down on Anthony Bowens' last nerve. How The Acclaimed just aren't winning matches when it counts anymore; something's been off. They've been more and more out of sync in the ring, and Max has only gotten more abrasive and egotistical. Their breakup was hardly a surprise, for this reason.

Next, history. All the feuds I've listed above have this, to one extent or another. MJF's history as a rabid fan of Punk's as a kid. That autograph signing picture. Mariah May following in Toni Storm's footsteps, career-wise. Jack Perry's history as a fan-favorite babyface and his subsequent fall from grace intersects neatly with Daniel Garcia rise from tough midcard heel to beloved, dancing face.

The Acclaimed also have plenty of history: we've been along for the entire ride, witnessing it. Their rise from an obscure Dark tag team to one of the most popular and well-known acts. They fought their battles together, even when the going got tough. Suspensions and ill-times injuries couldn't break them up. They had fire in their eyes and a clear-set goal to be Tag Team champions, and they achieved far beyond our wildest dreams.

So, what's my problem? This feud practically writes itself, right? The breakup of a beloved tag team is a classic trope. Max and Anthony have always portrayed themselves as a Heel-and-Babyface duo who balance each other out, so their roles for this story seem well defined.

....But is that really the best way to go about it?

Enter the third element: character work. Specifically, I want to talk about tensions.

If Max is a clear-cut heel and Anthony is an obvious face, it makes sense- but it's also boring. In other good feuds, even if there is clearly a "good guy" to root for, nothing is ever black and white. Think of MJF's inner vulnerability, and Punk's underlying cruelty towards him. Mariah May's love for Toni that she tries so hard to deny. Daniel Garcia's inherent violent nature that he has to fight against to literally not kill Jack Perry. Swerve is dangerous, and he broke into Hangman's house, but then Hangman burned his childhood home down.

Do not boo me- do NOT boo me for being right, when I say that out of the two, Max Caster has been doing much better character work. It's in his music, his indie work, and (more recently) his work on AEW.

He's especially good at creating tension by showing the warring dichotomy within himself. He has a huge ego, but only to cope with his poor self esteem. He's a sleazeball player who wants love and is afraid of ending up all alone. He never shuts the fuck up, but who is he if he's silent? Sure, he's embarrassing himself in the ring- but is he more delusional than any other wrestler that refuses to give up in the face of hardship? Stubbornly sticking to an idea arguably led to The Acclaimed winning championships. Hell, he refused to stop scissoring his partner, and look what that led to!

Max Caster is an AEW locker room veteran who clearly loves to big league and bully his lessers. He's super awkward and doesn't seem to have many friends. He thinks he's better than everyone else. He's his own worst enemy and harshest critic. He's rich, and pretty, and powerful, and successful. He's the loneliest and saddest guy in the world.

He's a multidimensional, fleshed-out character.

Anthony Bowens is....a good guy? I struggle to figure out anything about him besides for the fact that he's a Great Athlete and Nice Guy who is good at a lot of other things like modelling and baseball. He does and says all the right things. He speaks at colleges and attends charity events. He lives in a cute West Hollywood apartment with a cute husband. He's openly gay and proud of it, but isn't in your face about it like those other more annoying gays! He's not The Gay Wrestler, he's just a wrestler...who is gay....and nice...and talented.

Do you see my problem, here? Anthony Bowens does not bring any tension to the narrative.

He's flatter than Charlotte Flair's pancake ass. He's so focused on being picture perfect that he fails to provide any substance for me to sink my teeth into.

But the thing is, he easily could! He checks all the right boxes and says all the right things- but isn't that just the slightest bit calculating and manipulative? If the image he broadcasts to the world is so perfect, then doesn't that imply that it might be fake? He wants to keep doing the Scissor Me Daddy shtick despite it getting stale, why? The money? The merch sales? Would a good guy with nothing but good intentions cynically do a segment with the Costco Guys and fucking Jericho?

No hate, I'm not trying to smear Bowens' name here! We're in the middle of the feud, so maybe he'll surprise me. I think that Caster's appeal in part comes down to how willing he is to be vulnerable and messy. It might benefit Bowens to do a little of the same.

#max caster #anthony bowens #the acclaimed #all elite wrestling

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rollercoasterwords · 2 days ago

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i rember seeing you update your tags with memory loss and my heart dropped lol it’s always been one of my biggest fears and you mercilessly explored it (and specifically how it affected relationships) and it was terrifying and beautiful and wonderful

the way you write memory loss haunts

me i love your writing so much im in awe and uh have a wondrous day 😭

hiiiii thank u yeah i have. many thoughts about memory loss clearly lol

i think in general part of what compels me is that i feel as though there is a very prevalent message that we should think of life as a linear journey through time, moving from past to future, and also that the meaning of life is evaluated in ways tied to that linear concept of time--i.e., the idea that death is a fundamentally more important experience than most (if not all) other moments of life, because it is temporally at the "end" of a linear life cycle. & this is something i explored in thtf bc i wanted to push back on & question the presumption that death is necessarily any more important of a moment simply because it's the last moment we might have, & i wanted to explore a concept of life in which moments happening at different points of time are not necessarily ever "over"--those moments have always happened & are always happening somewhere in the fabric of the universe...basically thtf was me exploring how things might change if we break away slightly from life measured by linear timelines.

ANYWAY lily's story arc in worm moon is kind of a similar exploration. i think one thing that people find really frightening about this kind of memory loss--which was based around early-onset dementia--is the idea that you are losing these moments when you can't remember them, and also becoming unmoored from your linear temporality. your life is no longer a straight & predictable line from past to present to future; now the past interjects on the present, times get tangled up, etc. & again i wanted to explore the ways in which that can be painful but also the idea that a life unmoored from memory and time does not necessarily preclude joy & love & everything that people generally find makes life worth living; yes, lily losing her memory of her son is painful, but that doesn't mean the moments and the times she lived with him go away. they aren't lost or eroded because they didn't exist only inside her memory or her mind, y'know? the past is always happening and the future is always happening and the present is always happening all at once, etc...or maybe it's not! who knows! but just because we tend to perceive reality one way doesn't mean other perceptions of reality are necessarily less real.

& with sirius's experience of memory loss--there are some overlapping themes, but also different stuff i wanted to unpack & explore. i wanted to write a character going through the trauma & frustration & loss of feeling as though an important piece of past & memory had been stolen from him, and how that blank space can leave a hole inside you, and you can spend so much time trying to fill it--but at the end of the day, sometimes memory is just gone. sometimes it was never made correctly in the first place, and you end up with a hole in your life. and so often in stories about that kind of traumatic memory loss what i've seen is a narrative where there's an eventual restoration of memory that fills in the hole and allows the character to finally move on. but i wanted a character who has to come to terms with the fact that this specific, acute kind of memory loss is permanent--there is no healing of the hole, there is no patching over it, you just have to learn how to be a new person around it because you can't go back to the person you were before it, because that person is no longer you. and you have to learn to live with a trauma that you can't even name. i think that's a stumbling point for me with a lot of narratives i've encountered about trauma: oftentimes, they rely very heavily on finding ways to name & explain that trauma as a means of healing from it and coming to terms with it and moving past it. and if you have a traumatic experience tied to memory loss, or if the memory loss is the traumatic experience, then it's not really something you can "come to terms with." you just have to accept that something happened to you or your body or however you think of that person you can't remember and you'll never fully know what it is; you'll never get to sit down and watch a movie of the memory that says "this is the Truth and this is What Happened and this is why there's a hole inside you and you have nightmares about things you can't remember." anyway i think i'm just rambling now & not explaining this very well lol it's easier to just write what i want to say through these characters yayyyy fanfiction let's all clap & cheer etc

#in a rambling sort of mood tonight. many thoughts about memory loss!!!#wfrau #ask

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dykedvonte · 3 months ago

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Ty for answering my asks! Recently, I saw some fanart of the gender bendered crew and it got me curios, how much would the plot change if Jimmy was a woman. I mean, she would still be emotionally abusive (esp to Fem!Curly), but at lest, I guess, the crash would've never happened (?)

Also, her relationship w/ Anya: if she was assulted still, it prolly would've been dissmissed, since it's between 2 women. Or, if Anya is male in this scenario, he couldn't really be able to talk abt it, since society decided that "women can't r*pe men", so it's not serious and he should suck it up. Man, it's just sucks to be Anya in any scenario my poor girl 😭

What do you think? If you have an opinion on that at all, that is

-💀

I think the scenario's where the gender was flipped or any level of gender based intersectionality is expanded makes it so much more complex.

If this is the scenario with fem!Jimmy, it comes with the territory of questionable internalized homophobia. Does Jimmy brush it off in this scenario because she doesn't think lesbian encounters are real ones? Is she struggling with her identity and taking it out on Anya who may be openly queer compared a fem!Curly who is either straight or just not interested in Jimmy? Perhaps it's a sort of weird entitled that can occur in female dominated spaces "We're both girls, I know what you have, it won't matter." It's still is something I don't see Jimmy denying in this scenario, he never really denies it in canon just talks around it with Curly. Here I can see it's less about the pregnancy and more so about the internalized homophobia. Not seeing Anya as anything but an unwanted aspect of her femineity and the allure of it, there's a lot more objectification of both Curly and Anya in this alteration as I would believe feels better thinking of them in that light if they are just fodder in her mind. Guilty pleasures that no longer bring her such. It's a careful situation because I don't want this to fall into predatory lesbian stereotyping, Jimmy is just a person who does not respect other people or their choice, if it conflict with what he wants or perceived is owed.

The idea of Curly having to report it and outing her not only as a rapist but queer and the denial, especially in the case Anya and Curly are both out as she feels a sort of resentment she can't be secure with herself that way. If it is masc!Curly, there could be the jealousy of him being able to actively pursue relationships he wants while she feels she can't, Anya and Curly playfully flirt, its casual but it's something she longs for in the same way she doesn't. She obsesses over Curly because she wishes she could be Curly in a social sense in both aspect male or female Curly.

If it's fem!Jimmy and masc!Anya? It's a much more delicate situation. In this scenario Jimmy gets pregnant. Maybe Anya does a blood test after the incident and finds out Jimmy is pregnant. It's a very sensitive matter because if it's fem!Curly her first assumption is Anya may have done something. That is just the immediate assumptions in cases like this. I think the fact that Anya is telling her would make Curly think it's not that simple, especially since Jimmy isn't brining it up or really caring but everyone reacts differently. Jimmy is pregnant however, and that's a big deal, she'll figure that out eventually on her own but how will she react? Curly knows it won't be good, Anya knows too.

I think the crash is instigated in this scenerio by fem!Curly actually doing more, refusing to sweep it under the rug because she can conceptualize that fear, likely she and Jimmy are the only girls on board. She trusts everyone, well did trust everyone, but it's just something you live with. She can't just live with that double standard but I feel like she really doesn't know how to address it. How does she bring it up to superiors without implicating Anya? What does she do with Jimmy, it still feels like she's catering to Jimmy but now the concern is primarily focused on the life this baby will be born into. If it is born at all. I don't think Jimmy would try to kill Anya in this concept but try to spin the narrative it was mutual up until she got pregnant. Curly doesn't really buy it but it's a lot of processing, a lot more he said she said but what Jimmy is saying just doesn't make sense. It gives Jimmy too much time to really settle with the fact she's pregnant and likely can't support a kid nor wants to give birth out in space. Jimmy feeling like she's being othered from the only other woman could also be a factor, maybe even starting into her thinking Curly is behaving like a "pick-me" for siding with a guy over her. The crash is more spiteful in terms of having to protect herself alone, due to Curly not outright supporting her delusions.

It really adds a certain horror to Jimmy's pregnancy hallucinations because after the crash they are about her, her symptoms the sign of showing. She doesn't want the child either and considering what being pregnant can do to your mental/physical state, especially some of the more negative symptoms, I doubt she is handling it well. A lot of Anya's struggles are with the stigmas around male victims. His body reacted so did he want it? He's gonna be a father and courts likely will make him pay or care for the baby even if they take Anya's side, their world is just like that. Would the other's blame him for not doing more, he is a man after all? Should he be considered lucky a woman was that into him? It's eating away at him because not only does he not feel safe, he actively blames himself.

In the case Curly is still a cis guy, its that weird feeling guys often get when talking about male victims of assault. I don't think he'd victim blame but he likely asks or thinks about how it could've happened, why wouldn't Anya just overpower Jimmy? Maybe he couldn't? Maybe Anya didn't have it in him to strike a woman. He wouldn't. Now he thinks of what he would have done if Jimmy did something like that to him. SImilary to my trans!Curly post, he's wondering if it could've been him. It's likely one of the first times in his life he has to think of that type of vulnerability in terms of himself and other men and against likely his girl best friend. I think that arm pat right before Jimmy crashes the ship would really make him feel weird, not like he'd have the time to really dig into those feeling but y'know WERE GONNA CRASH!!!.

In terms of Jimmy and Curly's specific relationship, it just gets messier if they aren't both guys or girls. There's a lot of misogny on Jimmy's side with fem!Curly. He often points out she's a woman captain or makes a point of her being one of the few independent woman in her field and how certain men hate that. It's insidious but Curly doesn't think about or like to cause she likes to believe Jimmy isn't one of those guys. He can be a bit antiquated, maybe a bit of a pig but no ones perfect! Here a lot of his resentment is more gear toward a woman having that power over him as Captain/filling the typical male roles he fails at. He can't stand that she's above him in almost aspect and he likely takes it out on other women. Similarly, fem!Jimmy and cis Curly is just as bad. It's a fact of not knowing if she wants to be him, wants him or wants to destroy him. It's obsession without anything positive. She feels entitled to his space and life and time and he has a hard time setting up boundaries cause, well, Jimmy's a girl, his bestfriend and it comes with all the stigmas around boygirl best friends. To him it's a sort of oppressive doting, he feels wrong telling her not to pick and like he's being controlling. That's how she'd spin it whenever he'd try to make boundaries with her.

They are still just friends but most people can't tell even if they can tell it's not healthy, in both cases. Either way I feel like if they were opposite genders to each other there would a specific infatuation Jimmy would have with Curly that would be less hidden but sort of unaddressed because the idea of Curly rejecting them would make them lash out in a way Curly may just leave for their safety. It's also Jimmy wouldn't want to be with Curly specifically but just want what would consistently provide/available.

If they are both girls, its envy. It's that sort of hate that someone fits the standards you don't, wanting them to be picked second or crack. She likes to get into Curly's head, point out flaws and act like it's just her being helpful. She wants Curly to be a girls girl but only for her. There's a sort of possessiveness like purposely jeopardizing relationships because why would a man come first? That girl hates me and is a pick me, why are you friends with her still, Curly? Like this is silly but think about how Regina George treats Gretchen Wieners and that's effectively how fem!Curly and fem!Jimmy would work but technically Curly has the sway of Regina.

I believe the crash would always happen. Jimmy would try to escape responsibility or really thinking about what they did in any world, any gender. It's about facing the consequences, losing things he refuses to let go of or having to deal with responsibilities he's not ready for. The switching of sex or gender really doesn't change those core aspects.

#this is long cause theres so many ideas to play with here and how jimmy and Curly would work but the specifc things happening with Anya #like if she wasnt pregnant thats a relief but its the sort of situation where she has to think about her own sexuality in the scenerio shes #queer and how Jimmy affect her. Its addressing it with Curly who may get it but maybe she gets it too much maybe its hard to hear about Jim #cause for all she knew Jimmy was straight and now she has to think of all the odd conversations and nights they shared beds and maybe #feelings she had but she has to focus on putting Anya first but what does she do? Outing someone is bad but this can be dismmised?#Would the pony express just punish both anya and jimmy and curly what if theres a dont ask dont tell policy? what if they dont care cause #they are all women. its not an issue if its just girls not getting along after “experimenting”. Back to male Anya and female Jimmy they wil #assume it was consensual and anya just doesnt want the kid often that is pushed on male rape narratives. Jimmy is pregnant and on edge #does Curly also have to factor in the child? I feel like the feast scene would be Jimmy delusionally thinking Curly is helping support the #child i mean he is the most well off the bread winner he puts food on the table he is the food! Would polle being Anya talk about how Jimmy #doesnt have it in her to foster a child to support one emotionally without damage? Why so focused on making Curly the idealized male #or provider in her life when she went after him? For female Curly is it envy that she did this to herself and Curly has even more prospects #than her now? What if Anya was fawning because he didn't want the kid but hated the idea of Jimmy killing it to spite him? Or perhaps using #it as a means of control because even if he doesn't want it i doubt he wants it to be punished or abused. It is a burden something no one #wanted but it is being fostered five months in and Jimmys showing a bump and Anya cant ignore all the implications of it being born to her #maybe he kills himself to avoid living in a world its subjected to that pain to to save himself from it. GOD the pills with Curly are worse #for male Anya fem!Curly because its so much more direct he cant shove something down a womans throat who is clearly unwilling it makes #him feel like Jimmy to watch her struggle against him and he cant do it and with Jimmy it is so much more direct about a mother feeding #theri child and abusing it like the nuance if any gender flipping was canon would tear this fandom apart now imma thinking crazy about this #thanks skull anon like really ur asks get me thinking #mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #💀 anon #ask #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #captain curly #nurse anya #anya mouthwashing

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r0semultiverse · 1 year ago

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The implication that Terezi is stronger/immune/indifferent to Dirk's narrative writing/reality-warping powers is interesting. 👀

I am so excited for the new writers to explore her character more.

Hopefully this also means we'll be seeing more classpect & god tier power exploration as well!

#I say 'interesting' in a positive way btw just to clarify #I'm not sure how much is planned to be left of hs2 or how much was even originally planned to be left #but this is certainly something I'd like to see explored more or even more clearly explained in the comic itself #seems like Terezi is also being given a greater narrative purpose too #she's a really cool character so I'm glad to see her in the spotlight #not sure if the hs^2 ppl always had plans for her to play a bigger role but i'm glad we're getting a lot of this now #I wonder what's in that beaten up old wallet or if we've seen it before #maybe it was mentioned in the homestuck epilogues ? not sure #if anyone has any ideas plz let me know; would love to hear your thoughts!#mine #op #homestuck #homestuck^2 #upd8 #homestuck upd8 #homestuck spoilers #terezi pyrope #homestuck terezi #hs terezi #homestuck beyond canon

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navree · 2 years ago

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"cleopatra faced oppression" the fuck she did oh my god i hate y'all so much

#personal #i thought we couldn't get any stupider than 'cleopatra was culturally black' because like....no #because a) someone's idea of 'culturally black' varies from country to country #and b) what an american for instance would consider 'culturally black' is based on idea that's at max a hundred years old #but no cleopatra the literal queen descended from an incestuous colonizer dynasty ruling one of the richest countries on the mediterranean #did not 'face oppression' where was she facing oppression she OWNED SLAVES #the closest that woman ever came to facing oppression was like maybe the last week of her life when octavian was in alexandria #but even then not really???#and they're so clearly not talking about any gender discrimination that she dealt with because this whole thing #is a defense of that stupid 'no cleopatra was black actually we promise'#god i'm getting anti cleopatra pilled by ahistorical bullshit i'm gonna end up hating her before the year is out at this point #also can we please focus on like any other egyptian queens ever #why's it always cleopatra's macedonian ass in the spotlight egypt has thousands of years of history #and a good chunk of those thousands of years did actually have female primary rulers #who were ethnically egyptian to boot #like goddamn there's more to egypt than just the cleopatra show and a lot of it is much more interesting

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neixins · 1 year ago

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the sword and shield part of the prophecy is soooo vague that i’ll rotate every possible theory inside my silly little head and then go “or it could be smth else”. absolute net zero conclusions reached but i had fun.

#like. i think hak being the sword is one of if not the most popular theories and i can see it bc well. look at the guy #but it’s the specifics of the wording that give me pause #‘WHEN the four dragons are gathered the sword and shield which will protect the king SHALL AWAKEN’#when hak’s been there from the beginning + there’s also ik-su’s warning that hak will die if yona doesn’t find the dragons #which. there’s definitely ways to interpret him still being the sword (or shield!! that’d also be a neat twist) even with that in mind #but ngl i’m also a sucker for the idea that he’s just. there bc he loves yona. no connection to the prophecy whatsoever.#like both options make sense to me and i can see either one happening #anyway my personal favorite theory rn is that riri is the either the sword or the shield #not saying it’s the most probable option. just the most fun to meeee <3 #and ngl it only occurred to me during the latest chapter bc she’s clearly gonna play some kind of role #so it’s not like i have like a mountain of compelling evidence but i do have more than just. a feeling #like she has the sociopolitical standing and the ability (or at least pluckiness) to fill either role right?#and she was introduced and grew as a character only after all four dragons were gathered #which fits with some of the only things we know about the sword and the shield #do u see what i’m getting at?? am i making any sense at all??#it could also ofc be a literal sword and shield which. tbh i think is the most likely but also less fun to speculate about #anyway i also think tae-jun will have a bigger role to play. either as a part of the prophecy or not #but also how might zeno’s recent actions impact the prophecy……. much to think about as always #but that’s enough theorizing for one day! time to grab my iced coffee from the fridge and work on my silly little fic <3 #akayona

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cumironi · 3 months ago

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THE CLOWN HAS BEEN FOUND s. gojo

★ sum. the baggy clothes, the glasses, the book, the brain— sum : a nerd, that’s what you are. a center of attention, but not because of how beautiful and popular and everyone wants to date you— no, but because you are a loser. and the popular boys have a bet who’s get to sleep with you first and pop the cherry.

warning. college au, ōral ( m & f receiving ), fingēring, dirty talk, hair-pulling, bit name-calling, petnames, praise, cherry pop mentioned, unprotected sēx.

the four of them—geto, gojo, toji, and sukuna—sat sprawled out under the big willow tree on campus, a prime spot they’d claimed as their own. the tree’s branches hung low, providing shade from the afternoon sun, and it seemed to be the perfect place for them to lounge around, their laughter and conversation echoing through the quiet space. they were the popular boys on campus, infamous for their looks, athleticism, and wealth, and equally notorious for their cocky, careless attitudes—a magnetic combination that somehow made them both admired and hated.

they were deep in some joke, laughing obnoxiously, when toji’s gaze drifted, his laughter fading as his eyes settled on something—or rather, someone—in the distance. his smirk widened as he cocked his chin in your direction, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“look at her,” toji muttered, loud enough for the others to hear. the way he said it held a certain bite, like he’d just stumbled upon something amusing.

the other three followed his gaze, their eyes landing on you, sitting off to the side with a thick textbook open in your lap. you were tucked into yourself, shoulders hunched slightly, completely absorbed in whatever you were reading. your clothes were baggy, drowning your frame in layers that did little to give away any shape. the oversized hoodie practically swallowed you, sleeves pulled down almost to your fingertips. your glasses kept sliding down your nose, and every now and then, you’d push them back up absently, clearly too lost in your book to notice much else.

“oh, the classic nerd look,” sukuna sneered, his eyes narrowing as he looked you over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “cute,” he added mockingly, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he found the whole thing entertaining.

gojo let out a low snort, shaking his head as he took a long drag from his cigarette, smoke curling around him in lazy spirals. he leaned forward, one arm bracing against the grass. his eyes still on you, but there was a mocking amusement dancing in them now. he exhaled slowly, a smirk pulling at his lips as he glanced over at sukuna, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“what’s this, sukuna? into the nerdy type now?” he taunted, tilting his head as he raised an eyebrow. his tone was layered with mockery, his smirk widening as if the very idea was too ridiculous to believe. “thought you had a thing for a girl with big tits.”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t waver. “naaah, not my type,” he shot back, his gaze flicking back to you briefly before he shrugged. “just saying she’s… amusing. probably jumps if someone even looks at her.”

“oh, definitely,” geto chimed in with a chuckle, folding his arms as he looked you over with a lazy curiosity. “bet she’s terrified of guys like us.”

toji laughed, shaking his head as he looked back at the others. “please, she’d probably faint if you even said hi.” they all shared a laugh, a mixture of arrogance and amusement, reveling in the thought. to them, you were just another quiet, unassuming girl in a sea of faces, someone they could easily overlook—or mess with, if the mood struck.

gojo snickered. “hell, she probably doesn’t even know we exist,” he taunted, his smirk growing ever more patronizing as he puffed out another plume of smoke. “probably spends her nights in her room, surrounded by books and stuffed animals. bet she’s never even been to a party.”

geto chuckled, leaning back with a mocking smile. “oh please, she’s probably never even been kissed.”

toji smirked, adding to the barrage of mockery. “god, she’s probably never been touched by a guy either, huh?” he chimed in, his words dripping with lewd undertones. he took another drag of his cigarette, then glanced back at you, eyeing you up and down again, his smirk widening into a leering grin. “bet she’s a complete virgin.”

there was a collective burst of laughter from the three of them, their voices loud and harsh in the otherwise peaceful afternoon air.

sukuna, his smirk still firmly in place, leaned back against the tree, his arms crossed. “yeah, she’s probably saving herself for her dream guy,” he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “probably wants some perfect fairytale romance. what a joke.”

toji let out a low, dark snicker, his gaze flickering back to you as his smirk widened into something almost predatory. he leaned forward slightly, the cruel glint in his green eyes sharpening as he watched you, completely oblivious to the way they were talking about you.

“oh, please,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mock amusement. “give me an hour with her, and i’d pop that cherry first,” he said, his scarred lips twisting into a wider smirk, a glimmer of cruelty evident in his gaze.

the other guys laughed again, their voices mingling in the harsh, arrogant way only they could manage. for them, it was a game—a chance to mock and taunt someone so outside their world.

geto snort, “yeah, right.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he took another casual drag from his cigarette, shaking his head at toji’s words. “big talk, man. you are too scary, let me take the ‘pop’,” he said, his voice laced with a mischievousness.

sukuna let out another sharp huff of laughter, his gaze trailing over you disdainfully, his smirk a mix of mockery and condescension. “yeah, good luck with that,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “bet she’d faint if you even came close to her.”

but toji didn’t seem worried, his smirk only growing wider, a cruel gleam in his eyes as he continued watching you, a dark challenge present in his expression.

“oh, i’d get her,” he said, his voice oozing a dangerous sort of confidence. his eyes darkened, his smirk turning almost feral as he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers idly.

“she wouldn’t even know what hit her.”

sukuna raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leaned in, matching toji’s dark energy with a glint of excitement in his own crimson eyes. he crossed his arms, tilting his head with a look that practically dared the others to take him up on his idea.

“let’s make it interesting, boys,” sukuna drawled, his tone laced with twisted amusement. “how about a little wager? who’s gonna get to pop the cherry first?”

the idea hung in the air, laced with a sense of cruel playfulness. the others exchanged looks, smirks widening as they took in the challenge, their gazes flickering back to you as you remained completely unaware, hidden in your book and blissfully out of earshot.

gojo’s smirk only widened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the idea. he took another puff from his cigarette, eyeing sukuna with amusement, clearly intrigued by the proposal. “a wager?” he asked, his voice tinted with a hint of curiosity. “what’s the prize?”

geto chuckled, the idea clearly appealing to him as well. he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he chimed in. “i’m in,” he said, his smirk mirroring the others.

sukuna shrugged, an amused gleam flashing through his crimson eyes as he glanced over at you, still utterly engrossed in your book and completely unaware of the bet unfolding among the boys. his smirk deepened as he looked back at the others, his tone casual yet laced with dark amusement.

“anything you want,” he replied smoothly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. he paused, his gaze flickering back to you for a brief moment before adding, “but there’s one condition—whoever wins has to take a photo as proof.”

the challenge hung heavy in the air, each of them exchanging glances, their smirks widening in unison. the thought of the twisted little game gave them all a sense of cruel excitement, feeding their arrogant thrill as they eyed you once more, already imagining how they’d play this out.

gojo let out a low snort, his smirk growing into a smirk of his own. he took another draw on his cigarette before tilting his head slightly, his expression shifting into one of agreement. “deal.” he said, his tone laced with a hint of determination.

geto chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to you once more before he nodded his agreement. “i’m in,” he added, his smirk mirrorring the others, clearly liking the idea of the bet.

toji chuckled, a cruel gleam appearing in his green eyes as he looked at the others, the idea of the bet stirring something wicked inside of him. he leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he nodded. “i’m in,” he echoed, his voice lower than before, filled with an almost excited tension.

it had been a strange week, to say the least. the four most popular boys on campus—geto, sukuna, toji, and especially gojo—had suddenly taken an interest in you, a stark contrast to the way they’d mostly ignored you before. they’d pop up in places they normally wouldn’t be, go out of their way to hold doors open or throw you playful smiles, and act… almost charming. but you weren’t buying it, especially not gojo’s relentless attempts to convince you to tutor him. every time he begged for your help, you’d shut him down without a second thought.

today was no different. you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, lost in your studies, when you heard the sound of a chair being pulled out beside you. you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. with a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and refocused on your notes, determined to ignore him.

“oh, come on,” gojo drawled, leaning in close with a pout as he rested his elbows on the table, clearly unfazed by your cold response. “i really need help, you know. i’m hopeless without you.” his tone was dripping with exaggerated desperation, but there was a playful glint in his eyes as he watched for any reaction.

you kept your gaze fixed on your book, trying to block him out. “then maybe you should try actually paying attention in class,” you muttered, flipping a page, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone.

but gojo just leaned closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost persuasive tone. “come on, i’ll owe you one. just one study session. i’ll even buy you coffee,” he offered, flashing you his signature charming smile, like he thought that was all it would take to wear you down.

“not interested,” you replied flatly, turning another page without looking up. you could feel his gaze on you, persistent as ever, but you were determined not to give him the satisfaction.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes narrowing slightly. he leaned even closer, his lips almost at your ear, as if daring you to ignore him. “come on, please?” he begged again, his tone dripping with fake desperation, his voice low and tantalizingly close. “just one little tutoring session. i’ll do anything.”

you froze, your pen pausing mid-word as the warmth of gojo’s hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers grazing just under the hem of your skirt. his touch was light, teasing, and you could feel your heart race at the audacity of his move. irritation flared within you, but when you turned to him, ready to give him a piece of your mind, you were met with that damn smirk of his—a look of pure, unbothered confidence.

his face was so close that you could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he whispered, “please?”

his voice was soft, almost seductive, and despite the irritation simmering beneath your calm facade, you could see the glint of amusement in his narrowed blue eyes, fully aware of the effect he was trying to have on you. your eyes narrowed, meeting his challenge, and you gave him a cold, leveled stare, unfazed by his proximity.

you lifted a brow, voice cool as ice. “is this your idea of begging, gojo?”

his smirk didn’t waver; if anything, it grew wider, clearly thrilled by your reaction. “i can be very persuasive,” he murmured, letting his fingers ghost over your thigh, just enough to keep your attention.

he leaned in even closer, his smirk widening further. his lips grazed your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and smooth, like silk. “and i can be very convincing,” he whispered, his hand sliding further up your thigh, leaving a trail of heated tingles in its wake.

you inhaled sharply, his breath hot against your skin as his words lingered in your ear, and you could feel your resolve slipping, his touch relentless and daring as his hand slid further up your thigh. the warmth of his fingers, the confidence in his voice—it was infuriatingly hard to ignore, and you could tell he knew it, that smirk of his only growing as he watched your reaction.

you turned to him, catching his gaze, meeting his smug look with one of quiet defiance. the words were barely a whisper as you muttered, “fine.”

his eyes lit up, triumphant, as if he’d known all along you’d give in, but you held his gaze steadily, a hint of warning still lingering there. “just one session,” you clarified, your voice firm, trying to reassert control even as you felt a flicker of warmth in your cheeks.

gojo’s smirk deepened, seemingly satisfied with your response. his hand paused, still resting on your thigh, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin, sending chills through your body.

“just one, huh?” he echoed, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, his lips practically grazing your skin as he spoke again. “don’t worry, i’ll make it count.”

he paused, his fingers tracing small, slow circles on your thigh, the gesture almost innocent, yet the meaning behind it clear. he looked at you, his gaze almost challenging, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes as he noticed your slight shiver at his touch. he leaned in further, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“my place or yours?” he purred, his tone dripping with suggestion, his hand gradually making its way higher up your leg.

and that’s where you are . . .

gojo smirks down at you, his eyes roaming over your nerdy appearance hungrily, knees on the floor inside his dorm room. “thanks for coming to tutor me today. i really appreciate it,” his voice drips with false sincerity as he palms himself through his jeans.

“i’ve been struggling with this subject and i’ve heard you’re the best at explaining things.” gojo leans back on his hands, spreading his legs wider to give you an even better view of the bulge straining against his zipper. “why don’t you come closer and we can start going over the material? i’m all yours, baby.” his thumb pinch your chin, the soft pad of his finger trailing off your skin before slipping past your swollen lips into your mouth.

he chuckles softly, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you squirm. “aww, what’s wrong? you look nervous. there’s no need to be shy around me.”

you swallow hard, your heart pounding in my chest as you kneel before gojo, feeling small and insignificant compared to his tall, muscular frame. your glasses slip down your nose slightly as you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“oh, um, t-thank you gojo-kun,” you stammer out, your voice quivering slightly. you shift nervously on your knees, very aware of how vulnerable your position makes you feel. and when gojo’s thumb pushes past your lips, you instinctively close your mouth around it, sucking lightly from habit before realizing what you were doing. a deep blush spreads across your cheeks.

“i’m just a bit overwhelmed, to be honest,” you managed to murmur, voice muffled by his thumb.

gojo’s smirk widens as he feels your warm, wet mouth envelop his thumb. he slowly pumps the digit in and out, mimicking a lewd act. “mmm, don’t be like that, cutie. i promise i won’t bite... much.” he winks salaciously.

his free hand reaches out to cup your burning cheek, calloused fingers brushing over the delicate skin. “you’re so cute when you’re flustered like this. it’s adorable how innocent you are.” gojo leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face. the musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils.

“tell you what, why don’t you put that clever tongue of yours to good use and help me relax a bit before we dive into studying?” his thumb presses deeper into your mouth insistently.

you whimper softly as gojo’s thumb invades your mouth more insistently, your tongue automatically swirling around the invading digit. your mind races, trying to process the sudden intimate contact and the heavy implication behind his words.

“i’m not sure if this is appropriate, gojo-kun,” you manage to say around his thumb after pulling back slightly, your voice muffled. “we should focus on the tutoring session...”

despite your weak protests, you can feel your body reacting to gojo’s proximity and touch— a traitorous heat pooling low in your belly, your cunt starting to clenching around nothing in your skirt. you squirm uncomfortably on your knees, hyper-aware of your submissive posture before him.

“what exactly did you have in mind?”

gojo chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble attempt at protest. he grips your hair, tugging your head back to expose the slender column of your throat. “oh, i think we both know this is exactly what we came here for, isn’t it?”

his other hand moves to palm his aching erection through his jeans, the thick outline unmistakable. “i had something much more... educational in mind than boring textbooks.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers huskily, “why don’t you be a good girl and put those pretty lips to work? show me what that smart mouth of yours can do besides spouting facts.” he uses his grip on your hair to guide your face towards his crotch, rubbing your cheek against the prominent bulge.

gojo groans softly as he feels your soft cheek pressed against his throbbing erection. he grinds subtly against you, seeking more friction. “fuuuck, you feel so good already. i bet these nerdy little lips will wrap around my cock perfectly.”

with his other hand, he starts unbuckling his belt, the metallic clink seeming obscenely loud in the quiet room. he pops the button of his jeans and slowly drags down the zipper, letting them gape open to reveal the waistband of his boxers straining over his massive bulge.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else,” gojo growls possessively. “by the time ’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is choking on my dick.”

the idea was overwhelming— the thought of ruining you and winning the bet performed a cloud in gojo’s head. you gasp sharply as gojo forces your face against his clothed erection, the heat and hardness searing into your cheek. your eyes widen at his crude words, a shiver running down your spine— equal parts fear and reluctant excitement.

“g-gojo-kun, please...” you whimper, your voice high and thready. “we shouldn’t... i-i’ve never...”

despite your halfhearted protests, you find yourself leaning into his touch, nuzzling almost imperceptibly against the thick ridge of his cock. the scent of his arousal is dizzying this close, musk and sweat and pure male essence flooding your senses. trembling fingers come up to tentatively brush against his hipbones as his zipper lowers with agonizing slowness.

gojo smirks cruelly as he hears the tremor in your voice, relishing how easily he can affect you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he croons mockingly.

he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peels them down, freeing his enormous, rock-hard cock. it springs out, slapping against your cheek with a meaty thwack. the thick shaft pulses with need, the flared head an angry purple and leaking copious amounts of precum.

you let out a choked moan as gojo’s huge, throbbing cock slaps against your cheek, leaving a smear of sticky pre-cum on your soft skin. your eyes widen in shock at the sheer size of him, intimidated but undeniably aroused.

“open wide, nerd. i’ve got a big load for you,” gojo taunts crudely. he fists his hand in your hair again, using his grip to angle your face towards his weeping cockhead. “stick out that clever little tongue. i want to see you worship every inch of my big, fat cock like the desperate slut you are.”

“oh god...” you whimper, your tongue darting out to unconsciously lick your lips. the salty-sweet taste of his essence explodes across your taste buds, making your head spin. with trembling hands, you reach up to grasp his muscular thighs for support as he forces your face closer to his imposing manhood. your glasses fog up slightly from your quickened breathing. “i’ve never done this before,” you admit in a tiny, scared voice.

gojo grins wickedly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic lust as he sees the fear and reluctant desire warring in your expression. “that’s alright, that’s why i’m here, you’re about to get the fucking of a lifetime to your virgin pussy,” he grunted.

he rubs the swollen head of his cock all over your face, smearing your cheeks and lips with his slick precum. the musky scent fills your nostrils, making your head swim with overwhelming pheromones. “open up, baby, take my cock like a good girl. promise it feels good, do you trust me?” sweet, his honeyed voice suddenly heavy with sweetness.

but despite that, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing the broad tip past your lips and onto your tongue. he groans at the wet heat engulfing him, head just a beat throw back before snapped, eyes lock with your lips taking the half of his cock. “fuck yes, that’s it. wrap those pretty lips around me.”

you let out a muffled yelp as gojo suddenly pushes past your lips, his thick cock stretching your jaw painfully wide you almost sure the edge of your lips stretch open. your eyes water as he hilts himself inside your virgin mouth, the bulbous head hitting the back of your throat. you gag reflexively, throat spasming around his girth.

“mph!” you try to pull back but his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his impressive size. your small hands come up to weakly push at his thighs, overwhelmed by the intrusion.

after a moment, you force yourself to relax your jaw, breathing heavily through your nose. you start to experimentally suckle at the head, your tongue swirling clumsily around it. the taste of his skin and the musky scent flooding your senses is dizzying.

gojo throws his head back with a deep groan as your inexperienced mouth envelops him, your tongue clumsily lapping at his sensitive flesh. the sight of your stretched lips wrapped around his thick cock, tears glistening on your flushed cheeks, is incredibly erotic.

“that’s it, take it deeper,” he growls, fisting his hand tighter in your hair. with a sharp thrust of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt in your convulsing throat. your nose presses against his pelvis as he hilts inside you, cutting off your air supply completely.

“that’s good baby, goood job,” praise after praise fallen from gojo’s pretty, pink lips. he holds you there, savoring the feeling of your constricting esophagus fluttering around his cock. after several long seconds, he finally pulls back, allowing you a gasping breath before plunging in again.

gojo sets a brutal pace, fucking your face with deep, powerful thrusts. each snap of his hips drives his thick cock into your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. drool escapes the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin as he uses your mouth mercilessly.

“you’re doing so well for your first time,” he praises mockingly, voice strained with pleasure. “such an eager little cock sleeve, aren’t you? born to choke on a cock.” he pulls out abruptly, his spit-shined cock bobbing obscenely in front of your face. gojo smacks the heavy shaft against your tear-stained cheeks, smearing them with your own saliva mixed with his precum. “strip,” he commands gruffly, releasing his grip on your hair.

gojo looms over you, his chest heaving with exertion and arousal as he watches you intently. his eyes rake over your disheveled form, drinking in the sight of your reddened cheeks, puffy lips glistening with spit, and the way your glasses sit askew on your face.

“come on, slowpoke. i want to see every inch of the body hiding under those ugly clothes,” he growls impatiently, one hand coming down to roughly palm himself through his open fly. the other reaches out to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging insistently. but, instead of slipping out of your ‘ugly’ clothes, you stand there, eyes widened innocently the way you look up to him.

“don’t make me rip them off. you wouldn’t want me to damage your precious belongings, would ya?“ a wicked smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting with mischief and barely restrained hunger.

you tremble under gojo’s hungry gaze, acutely aware of how debauched you must look— face flushed, glasses fogged, lips swollen and slick with spit. with shaking hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt, fumbling to undo them one by one.

as more of your creamy skin is revealed, gojo’s eyes darken with undisguised lust. he licks his lips, watching avidly as you shrug the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. underneath, you wear a plain white lacy bra, the fabric straining slightly over your bust.

next, you stand on wobbly legs to shimmy out of your skirt, letting it pool around your ankles before stepping out of it. your panties match your bra, simple cotton with lace. “gojo-kun..” you murmur, hands hovering over your bra and panties, hiding yourself.

gojo’s heated gaze roams hungrily over your newly exposed body, lingering on the swell of your breasts straining against the delicate lace of your bra. he steps closer, crowding into your personal space until the hard planes of his body press against your softer curves.

“fuck, you’re even hotter than i imagined,” he rasps, calloused fingers trailing up your sides to cup your tits possessively. never in a million years had he found a loser nerd like you could be this hot, and it seems like his cock agrees with the way it’s twitching. he squeezes the soft mounds, thumbs flicking over your nipples through the thin fabric until they pebble beneath his touch, pushing a breathless gasp out of your throat.

with a wicked grin, gojo reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, tossing it aside carelessly. cool air hits your bare skin, pebbling your nipples further as they’re bared to his intense scrutiny.

“perfect.”

gojo hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs in one swift motion. the flimsy material catches on your knees briefly before falling to your ankles, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

he takes a step back, drinking in the sight of your naked body with an appreciative hum. his eyes linger on the cute, neat patch of curls crowning your mound, the slight flare of your hips, the gentle swell of your ass. “goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs reverently.

without warning, gojo drops to his knees in front of you, large hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart. he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your most intimate parts. “i bet this sweet cunt tastes divine,” he growls, dragging his tongue along your slit in one long, painfully slow stroke.

you can’t help but let out a startled moan as gojo’s warm tongue drags along your most intimate folds, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. your knees buckle slightly and you have to brace yourself against the wall to keep from collapsing under the intensity of sensation.

“g-gojo-kun!” you gasp, fingers tangling in his silver hair as he laps at your slit like a man starved. his tongue delves between your lower lips, seeking out your entrance and circling it teasingly. you squirm against the invasion, thighs trembling with the effort to hold still.

gojo chuckles lowly, the vibrations making you shudder. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. “ah! ahh!”

gojo moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, his tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. he laps at your juices greedily, the obscene slurping sounds filling the room. “mmm, you taste even better than i imagined,” he growls, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “so fucking sweet.”

his hands grip your ass, kneading the supple globes as he eats you out with single-minded focus. he alternates between thrusting his tongue in and out of your clenching hole and flicking the tip rapidly over your throbbing clit. the lewd wet noises echo off the walls, mingling with your needy whimpers and gasps.

“oooh! m-my god!” you writhe helplessly against gojo’s relentless assault, fingers digging into his silver hair as waves of overwhelming pleasure crash over you. your hips undulate shamelessly, grinding your aching core against his face as he devours you like a man possessed.

“that’s it, ride my tongue,” he grunt, the words muffled against your soaked folds. you throw your head back with a keening cry as gojo works you over with his skilled tongue, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. your fingers tighten reflexively in his hair, tugging sharply at the silvery strands.

“ah! g-gojo-kun!” you gasp brokenly, toes curling against the cool tile floor. your inner muscles flutter wildly around his invading tongue.

gojo growls into your pussy, the sound sending delicious vibrations through your core. he doubles his efforts, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard while simultaneously thrusting two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your spasming channel.

“g-gojo-hng!” you sob brokenly, hips continue to roll shamelessly against his face. you mewl helplessly into the filthy kiss, when gojo’s tongue dominating yours as he claims your mouth thoroughly after he stands abruptly.

you can taste yourself on him, the musky flavor making your head spin with renewed arousal and it sends a fresh wave of heat flooding through your veins. his hand slides up to palm your breast roughly, calloused thumb scraping over your sensitive nipple.

when he finally breaks away, you’re left panting and dazed, lips kiss-swollen and tingling. gojo grins wolfishly down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. “god, so fucking beautiful when i’m ’bout to ruin you,” he promises darkly, voice rough with desire. “by the time i’m done, all you’ll be able to think about is my cock splitting you open."

his hand slides down your body to grip your thigh, hoisting your leg up to wrap around his hip. the new position leaves you feeling deliciously vulnerable, your slick folds rubbing directly against the rigid length of him.

gojo’s heated gaze rakes over your flushed form, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. he licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of your essence still coating his tongue. “fuck, you look good enough to eat,” he growls appreciatively, palming himself once again, smearing his precum all over your thigh, the biting lips to stop the moaning betraying his own desperate arousal.

with a few quick movements, gojo shucks off his shirt, revealing the lean lines of his torso. his pale skin is littered nothing but softness. he kicks off his pants next, leaving him fully naked now.

slowly, torturously, gojo sinks into your welcoming heat inch by excruciating inch. gojo grunts as your slick folds slide along his shaft, coating him in your essence. your slick walls stretch deliciously around his girth, molding to every ridge and vein. by the time he’s fully seated, you feel impossibly full, stuffed to the brim with hard, throbbing cock.

“fuuck!” he snarls, eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. he holds himself there for a moment, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion. “p-pussy sooo-shit! good.” the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating his cock almost making gojo’s feel bad for using you as a bet, but fuckkk! you feel so good.

you let out a strangled moan as gojo hilts himself fully inside you, stretching you wider than ever before. your slick walls flutter and clench around his thickness, trying instinctively to accommodate the sudden intrusion. the sensation borders on painful but the dull ache only serves to heighten your pleasure, stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

“ah! s-so biiig,” you whimper breathlessly, fingernails raking down gojo’s back. your hips twitch restlessly, torn between the urge to pull away from the intense stretch and the primal need to take him deeper. gojo groans at the feeling of your scorching heat enveloping him so completely. his pelvis presses flush against yours, ensuring that not an inch of space remains between your bodies.

gojo once again, groans deeply as your velvety walls ripple along his length, the exquisite sensations threatening to undo his control. he wants nothing more than to rut into you mindlessly, chasing his own pleasure. but he forces himself to hold still, giving you time to adjust to his size.

“shit baby, you feel incredible,” he rasps, voice strained with barely restrained lust. “so fucking tight...” he rolls his hips experimentally, pulling out just an inch before sinking back in. the drag of his thick cock against your sensitive nerves makes you both gasp. gojo sets a slow, deep rhythm, letting you feel every inch of him as he strokes your inner walls. his hands roam your curves possessively, mapping out the dips and swells of your body.

you arch into gojo’s touch, craving more of his addictive caresses. your nails score down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. the sting only seems to spur him on, his thrusts growing harder and faster as he chases his own pleasure.

“too muuuch,” you cry, tossing your head back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to urge him deeper. “hurt, ah! too big.”

gojo snarls, the sound feral and hungry. he leans down to capture one pert nipple between his teeth, biting down just shy of too hard. you yelp at the sharp jolt of pain, cunt clenching rhythmically around his pistoning length.

gojo grunts as your inner walls clamp down around him like a vice, the added pressure sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. he knows he should probably slow down, give you time to adjust, but the way you’re writhing beneath him is just too enticing.

“you can take it,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust.

once again, gojo snarls against your breast, tongue flicking out to lave over the abused bud. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make it feel real good,” he promises, harmonizing his words with a particularly vicious thrust. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix, making you see stars.

your slick walls spasm wildly around his girth, fluttering and clenching as if trying to push him out even as your body betrays you, hips rolling shamelessly to meet each punishing stroke. the wet slap of flesh echoes obscenely in the room, mingling with your wanton moans and gojo’s animalistic grunts.

gojo lets out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls ripple around his thickness. “fuck, your pussy is milking my cock so good,” he grunts, hips snapping forward almost violently. one large hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. “come on, baby. squeeze this cock just like that,” gojo urges gruffly, increasing the pressure on your clit. “gonna fill this pretty cunt up real soon.”

you throw your head back with a guttural moan, fingers tangling in gojo’s hair as he works you closer to the edge. your thighs tremble, muscles quivering with the strain of holding yourself open for his relentless assault. sweat beads along your brow, plastering strands of hair to your face.

“please,” you keen desperately, unsure what exactly you’re begging for anymore. more? less? harder? faster? all you know is that yo’'re teetering right on the precipice, balanced precariously between agony and ecstasy.

gojo grins wickedly, sensing your desperation. he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “that’s it, cum for me baby. gonna pump you so full of my seed, you’ll be dripping for days.”

but before you reach that peak, that climax you desperately need, gojo abruptly stops moving. hands trailing down your tights before throwing your body to his bed. a gasp of surprise tears from your throat, followed by a whimper— a subtle sign of protest.

gojo chuckles darkly, reveling in the delicious sight of you sprawled out before him, flushed and panting. he takes a moment to admire the view— your chest heaving, breasts bouncing with each labored breath, the glistening evidence of your arousal painting your inner thighs.

gojo smirks down at you, taking in your confused expression with a glint of mischief in his eyes. he trails a finger down your sternum, circling one dusky nipple teasingly for a second. “what’s wrong, baby?” he coos mockingly. “didn’t get your fix?”

he shifts slightly, the movement causing his half-hard cock to brush against your thigh. you shudder at the contact, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you. gojo hums approvingly at your reaction, leaning down to nip at your jaw.

“mmm, look at you,” he purrs approvingly, trailing a finger through your slick folds. “all spread out and ready for me. such a goood girl.” without warning, gojo flips you onto your stomach, hauling your hips up until you’re presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. he runs a proprietary hand over the curve of your ass, squeezing roughly. “this ass though... fuck, i could play with it all day.”

gojo’s eyes rake over your prone form appreciatively, drinking in the delectable sight of you splayed out before him. he takes his time exploring your curves, fingers tracing idle patterns across your skin. when he reaches the swell of your rear, he gives the supple flesh a firm squeeze, kneading the plush globes like dough. this might be the first and the last time he has you in his bed, might make it memorable.

“such a perfect little peach,” he praises huskily, spreading you wide to expose your most intimate parts. cool air wafts over your heated flesh, making you shiver. gojo hums in approval at the sight of your dripping cunt, flushed and swollen with need.

he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “look how wet you are for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. you let out a soft moan, squirming under gojo’s intense gaze. his rough hands map out every dip and curve of your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. you arch into his caress, silently begging for more.

when he finally reaches your aching core, you buck your hips eagerly, desperate for friction. “please,” you whimper, voice high and needy. “i need—”

gojo cuts off your pleas with a sharp smack to your rear, the stinging impact making you yelp. “ah ah, none of that now,” he tuts disapprovingly. “you don’t get to tell me what you need, understand? it’s an honor y’know, for me to take your virginity, so you don’t get to tell me what you need.”

he punctuates his words with another firm swat, watching with rapt attention as your skin blooms pink under his palm. but even so, gojo couldn’t stop the spinning from his head, the sigh of you, the feel of your cunt tightly grip his needy cock making him all desperate and losing his shit to you, a fucking nerd all out of other girl.

gojo grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your predicament. he traces a finger through your soaked folds, gathering some of your essence on his digit before bringing it to his lips. he makes a show of licking it clean, savoring your unique flavor with a satisfied hum.

“mmm, you taste divine,” he purrs, voice dripping with lust. “like the finest nectar.”

gojo lines himself up with your entrance once more, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at your slick opening. he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely breaching your entrance before pulling away again. your walls flutter around nothing, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.

“beg for it,” he demands huskily, giving your rear another firm smack. “let me hear how badly you want this cock.“ he grabs your hip, fingers bent to your flesh the way he drags you to the edge of his bed and your feet touching the cold tile.

his one arm sneaking down to your thigh, lifting it off the floor while the other hand relentlessly teases your needy cunt with the swollen tip of his cock— kissing your clit.

you writhe beneath gojo’s ministrations, a litany of needy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. “please,” you beg shamelessly, too far gone to care about dignity. “gojo-kuuunn . . i need you inside me, filling me up. i can’t take it anymore!”

your hips buck frantically, seeking friction against his maddening teasing. you’re so empty, aching to be stretched and filled by his thick length. gojo just chuckles darkly at your desperation, continuing his torturous game. his chest raining with pride and happiness for taking your virginity, him, not another man. him.

“oh? and why should i give you what you want?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance without pushing in. “maybe i like seeing you like this— alllll spread out and begging so pretty for me.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. “you taste sweet when you’re desperate like this,” he murmurs against your mouth, tongue flicking out to lick at your lower lip. “makes me want to devour you whole.”

he pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions. “but since you asked so nicely...” with a slow, deliberate push, he sinks into your heat, groaning at the velvety tightness enveloping his cock.

gojo pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried deep within you. then, with a gentle roll of his hips, he begins to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm. he savors each drag of your slick walls along his shaft, relishing in the exquisite sensation of taking your virginity. his hand leaving another handprint on your ass, digging his dull nail into the skin.

a gasp tears from your throat as gojo finally sheathes himself fully inside you, the stretch both painful and exhilarating. you cling to the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as you acclimate to the foreign intrusion.

but as he starts to move, long, languid strokes that fill you to the brim, you begin to relax into the pleasure. a low moan escapes you, vibrations humming against gojo’s lips before your head falls to his bed. “ahh... yes... just like thaaat...”

your hips start to rock in tandem with his, meeting each thrust with eagerness. the sensations build rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. you can feel every ridge and vein of gojo’s cock as it slides against your inner walls, sending jolts of electric pleasure through you.

“more,” you breathe out, voice ragged with need, causing the man to leave your reddened ass to find your hair and take a fistful of the locks while the other arm tightens around your thigh, making a perfect symphony the way he pounds into you from behind.

gojo’s fingers dig into your scalp, tugging roughly at your hair as he pistons into you with reckless abandon. the bed creaks and shifts beneath the force of his thrusts, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your hearts.

gojo growls in approval, the sound muffled against your ear as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. his hips snap forward with renewed vigor, driving into you with a primal intensity that steals your breath away. the force of his thrusts sends the headboard thudding against the wall, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your heart.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he grits out between clenched teeth, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as he uses it to pull your head back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. “i can feel every inch of you milking my cock. this cunt feels like heaven, fuuuck.”

gojo’s words are punctuated by the lewd slap of skin against skin, the obscene sound only serving to heighten your arousal. his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. the slight sting only serves to heighten your arousal, your body craving more of his dominance. gojo's other hand grips your thigh firmly, holding you steady as he pistons in and out of you with relentless precision.

your mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of gojo’s possession. every nerve ending is alight with sensation, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. you can feel yourself teetering on the brink, precariously close to the edge.

a hoarse cry spills from your lips as gojo hits that spot deep inside, the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “ahhh! oh god, right there!” you wail, hips bucking wildly to meet his punishing pace.

a sharp cry tears from your throat as gojo’s grip on your hair intensifies, the pain mixing deliciously with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. you arch your back, offering yourself up completely to his dominating touch.

“yes, oh god, just like that!” you moan, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “fuck me harder, gojo-kun!”

gojo’s eyes flash with triumph and possessiveness at your wanton cries, his grip on your hair and thigh tightening reflexively. he slams into you with renewed ferocity, the force of his thrusts rattling the bed frame and sending the headboard crashing against the wall.

“that’s it, scream for me,” he snarls, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he leans in close. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless.” gojo’s free hand snakes around to cup your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. the dual sensations of his ruthless pounding and the pleasurable tug on your sensitive bud send you spiraling closer to the edge.

as if sensing your impending climax, gojo redoubles his efforts, pistoning into you with wild abandon. your world narrows down to the searing heat of gojo’s body, the relentless thrusts of his cock, and the intoxicating scent of sex that fills the air. you’re lost in a haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure, every fiber of your being focused on chasing that elusive peak.

the pressure builds and builds, coiling tighter in your core until you think you might burst. gojo’s harsh commands and the brutal pace of his fucking only serve to heighten the tension, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

with a keening wail, you finally tumble over the edge, your orgasm slamming into you like a freight train. your inner walls clench around gojo’s throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

“fuck, fuuck! gojo-kun! ’m cumming, cumming!”

gojo lets out a guttural roar as he feels your pussy clamping down on his cock, the vice-like grip triggering his own release. with one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his seed erupting in powerful spurts as he fills you up.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chants, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. gojo’s grip on your hair and thigh remains unrelenting, holding you in place as he marks you as his, claiming you utterly and completely.

overwhelmed by the intensity of your shared orgasms, you collapse onto the mattress the heartbeat his grasp on you loosened, your body still trembling with aftershocks. gojo’s continued pulsing inside you, coupled with the warmth of his release coating your insides, leaves you feeling utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

as your breathing slowly returns to normal, you become aware of gojo’s hands gentling their hold on you, his fingers stroking soothing patterns on your skin. a soft, contented sigh escapes your lips as you melt into his touch, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

he leans forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed, his chest pressed against your back. his breath is still a bit ragged, but you can feel his strong, steady presence behind you. for a few moments, all you hear is the steady, calming sound of your combined breathing, the only indication that both of you are slowly recovering from the intensity of your shared passion.

after a few moments, gojo breaks the comfortable silence, his voice low and still slightly husky. “you okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear.

his hands slide down your sides, gently encircling your waist, his touch tender and light. the weight of his chest against your back is reassuring, and you can still feel the heat of his body radiating through your clothes. he shifts slightly, his chin resting on your shoulder, and you can practically feel his intense gaze on you, as if he’s silently assessing how you’re feeling.

a soft smile curves your lips at gojo’s gentle inquiry, your body relaxing further under his comforting touch. “mhm, i’m good,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly to rest against the soft material of his blanket. “just... really sated right now.”

you let out a contented little sigh, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the intimate closeness of his body pressed against yours. slowly but surely, the feeling of his softened cock slipped out of your cunt, taking all of your cum and his down to your thigh and floor.

gojo chuckles softly in response, hearing the hint of satisfaction in your tired voice. he plants a soft, feather-light kiss on your neck, his lips lingering there for a moment. “that’s good,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of pride, “i’m glad i exhausted you that much.”

he pauses for a moment, his hands gently rubbing your sides, before speaking again. “need anything? water, a towel, or just... rest?” he asks, his tone genuinely concerned.

you let out a soft sigh, the tension of the past moments slowly melting away as you murmured, “just rest.” your voice was quiet, tired, and gojo, ever attentive, hummed in agreement, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a gentle kiss.

“say no less,” he whispered with that same reassuring tone, his arms immediately wrapping around you. he shifted you both onto the bed, pulling you into his embrace and letting you rest your head on his chest. his warmth surrounded you, grounding you at the moment, his heartbeat steady beneath you.

gojo made sure to cover both of you with the blanket, tucking it around your bare body with care, his movements slow and deliberate. despite the weight of the earlier events, his presence was steady, a soft contrast to the tension you’d felt before. outside of the bet, outside of the teasing, the games, and the complexities of it all, he seemed intent on giving you comfort—giving you the space to just rest, without further complications. his fingers gently traced circles on your back, a quiet reminder that, at this moment, there was nothing but a reason you were on his bed simply because of a bet— the bet he’s going to win.

gojo held you close, his arms encircling your body snugly under the soft warmth of the blanket. he continued tracing light circles on your back, the soothing repetitive motion a silent reassurance of his presence and care.

his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm, and you could feel the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. his body offered a solid, comforting presence, grounding you in the aftermath of the eventful night.

gojo remained silent for several minutes, simply holding you close, his touch gentle and nurturing. after a few moments, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that both of you were more comfortable. his arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest, a silent promise of protection and comfort.

you simply nod.

gojo feels your nod, his lips curving into a small smile against your forehead. “good,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low.

he lets out a deep, content sigh, his body relaxing further into the bed, his arms still holding you close. his breathing slows, a steady, measured rhythm that seems to lull you into a sense of peace and security. the room is enveloped in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

gojo’s gaze softened as he looked down at your peaceful face, the soft rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the stillness of the room. he stayed like that for a while, just watching you, making sure you were fully asleep, your breathing steady and relaxed. he could feel the weight of the day, the tension from earlier, and he knew you needed this rest, even if you didn’t quite realize it yet.

once he was certain you were asleep, gojo's fingers slid beneath the pillow, pulling out his phone with careful movements. his smirk returned, a wicked gleam flashing in his eyes as he unlocked the screen and opened the camera. he took a quick snapshot, the sound of the shutter a soft click that was barely audible in the quiet room. his eyes flicked down to the picture, his smirk widening as he admired the photo of you, completely unaware, asleep in his arms.

“this is mine,” he muttered quietly to himself, the excitement of the bet reigniting within him. he knew he was going to win, and as much as he enjoyed this rare moment of calm with you, there was no denying the competitive streak that ran through him. he tucked the phone back under the pillow, settling back into the warmth of the bed, still holding you close, but his mind already racing ahead to the next step in his game.

gojo’s gaze remains fixed on you, admiring the innocent, vulnerable expression on your face as you sleep. he takes several more moments to just watch you, his gaze flickering over every detail of your face—the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the slight part of your lips as you breathe in.

he lets out a soft sigh, his fingers gently tracing your skin, his touch almost reverent. “god, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs quietly, the words slipping out involuntarily.

gojo’s eyes lingered on your peaceful, sleeping form, an unsettling mixture of admiration and satisfaction bubbling inside him. every detail of your face seemed to draw him in, each soft breath you took making his heart twist. he couldn't help but trace the curve of your cheek with his finger, as though savoring the image of you in your most vulnerable state. god, you're beautiful, he thought, the words slipping from his lips in a quiet murmur, but they were tinged with something darker.

as much as he tried to shake it off, a faint flicker of guilt gnawed at him. just a tiny sliver, a whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him of the bet, the cruel game he was playing with his friends. was this really what he wanted? to use you like this, to take advantage of your innocence, your trust, all for the sake of proving something to them? the thought scratched at his conscience, but it was fleeting, quickly drowned out by the more dominant, selfish part of him.

he couldn’t help it—he wanted to win. he wanted to show off, to prove that he was the one who’d conquered you first. the idea of rubbing it in toji, geto, and sukuna’s faces, seeing their reactions when he revealed that he was the one who’d claimed you, made his chest tighten with dark satisfaction. the guilt? it was easily buried beneath the hunger for victory.

monday couldn’t come soon enough.

sukuna leaned back, crossing his arms with a sly smirk as he glanced at gojo. “you’re so damn stupid,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “just get to the point, genius. we’re here to talk about the bet, not hear you babble on like an idiot.”

the mention of the bet caused a shift in the group. toji’s smirk sharpened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward, clearly ready to pounce on whatever gojo had to offer. geto, normally the calmest of them, looked intrigued, his gaze steady and expectant. sukuna’s own smirk widened into a mocking grin, savoring the thrill of competition, ready to lay down his own proof and claim victory over the others.

he let the tension build, basking in the eager anticipation hanging thick between them. then, without further ado, sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and casually waving it in the air. “alright, boys. one... two... three,” he counted, then turned his screen toward the group with a triumphant look. displayed was a photo of you lying next to him, fast asleep, vulnerable and unguarded. sukuna’s smirk grew wider, reveling in the victory he thought was his.

as sukuna’s countdown reached three, he confidently pulled out his phone, an air of smug triumph around him as he turned the screen to reveal the photo of you, asleep in his arms, your peaceful face nestled against him. for a brief moment, he savored the victory, certain he’d be the one to claim the title. but as he looked up, expecting awe and frustration from the others, he found something else entirely.

geto’s face, usually so calm, had twisted into a look of sheer confusion, a frown creasing his brow as he looked down at his own phone, then up at sukuna, and back to his phone again. in his hand, on his own screen, was the exact same photo—down to every last detail. his jaw clenched, and he turned the phone towards sukuna without saying a word, letting the image speak for itself.

toji, who’d been leaning back with a predatory smirk, felt his confidence waver. he, too, checked his phone, and the smirk fell, replaced by a dark scowl. “what kind of joke is this?” he growled, his fingers gripping his phone tightly, a mix of anger and disbelief in his eyes as he flashed the identical photo.

and gojo, who’d initially met sukuna’s countdown with smug amusement, suddenly felt the blood drain from his face. he looked at his own screen, the same picture staring back at him, taunting him with an illusion of victory. his lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced at each of the others, his usual cocky grin now replaced with a frustrated grimace. “so… none of us won anything, huh?” he muttered bitterly, his voice low, laced with irritation.

a tense silence settled over them, their expressions twisted with disbelief and anger. each one felt the bitter sting of having been outsmarted, the pride and triumph they’d anticipated now twisted into something sharp and uncomfortable.

sukuna clenched his jaw, the victory he’d tasted turning to ash. “this is ridiculous. how the hell—” he began, but was cut off by toji’s dry, humorless laugh.

“guess none of us were as clever as we thought,” toji muttered darkly, his voice edged with anger and annoyance.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his pride deeply wounded. “tch,” he scoffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “so we all lost? pathetic.” they sat in a tense, silent circle, each stewing in their own frustration and realizing they’d been played.

gojo let out a frustrated sigh, the realization of the situation sinking in. none of them had won, and worse, they'd all been tricked. he glanced again in your direction, a mix of irritation and confusion on his face. the realization that you, sweet and innocent as you seemed, had somehow outsmarted them all was a pill too hard to swallow.

“well, this is just great,” he muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “we’re all idiots.”

the four men turned, spotted you a few benches away, looking completely at ease, chatting with none other than nanami. his composed, polished demeanor stood out even in the crowded cafeteria, and as you held your phone up to show him something, you looked every bit like you were sharing a private joke. they saw your face light up with that familiar, radiant smile as nanami rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, his expression softening in a way they rarely saw.

then, to their surprise, nanami sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and handing you a couple of bills. your smile grew even bigger, the kind of delighted, unguarded grin they’d each hoped to earn themselves. from a distance, they couldn’t make out what you were saying, but the playful exchange and easy familiarity between you both were clear as day.

their eyes widened when nanami leaned down, just slightly, his hand resting on your shoulder as he pressed a brief but gentle kiss to your lips—completely unfazed by the cafeteria full of students. the kiss was neither rushed nor hesitant, just natural and unapologetic. as he pulled away, he sent a pointed, almost warning glance in their direction, his gaze cold and unyielding, as if daring any of them to even think about challenging him.

you turned then, catching their gawking stares and raising the cash in your hand with a sly grin that practically dripped with triumph. they could only sit in stunned silence as you waved the money at them, your expression smug and knowing. your gaze lingered on them for a second longer, a little glint of mischief in your eyes, before you turned your attention back to your phone, completely unfazed by their reactions.

the four men sat there, speechless, their jaws hanging open in shock at the scene unfolding before them. they’d expected you to be meek and naive, unaware of their little bet. instead, here you were, giggling with nanami, a man known for his aloofness and strict nature, casually taking money from him in exchange for a kiss. your confident wave and smug smile only added to the shock.

toji was the first to snap out of it, his eyes narrowing as he watched you with a mixture of anger and surprise. “what the hell was that?” he sputtered, his voice strained.

sukuna’s face contorted with pure disbelief, a rare look of complete shock crossing his usual smug features. he couldn’t believe that the girl they’d all so casually thought they were playing had flipped the entire game on them. his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, “unbelievable… she played us.”

toji, on the other hand, looked downright irritated, his expression darkening as he watched nanami give you that casual, easy kiss. his pride stung, and he forced out a low, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “so much for thinking she’d be easy to handle,” he growled. “guess we’re the ones who got handled.”

geto was silent, his usual calm mask slipping just enough to reveal the flicker of surprise in his eyes. he prided himself on being perceptive, but seeing you there with nanami, openly flaunting the victory they thought was theirs, left him speechless. his lips curved into a grudging smirk, though, as he muttered, “gotta hand it to her… didn’t see that coming.”

gojo felt his face flush with a mix of frustration and lingering embarrassment. he leaned back, running a hand over his face and letting out a soft, defeated chuckle. “well, this is just fantastic,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he watched you wave the money with that smug smile on your face. “we’re all idiots, and she knows it.”

the four men sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. they’d underestimated you, treated you like a naive little toy to be won, but you'd turned the tables on them. and the fact that you’d done it so effortlessly, with such a casual smirk on your face, only added to the collective sense of shock and irritation.

gojo, in particular, couldn’t shake off the burning sense of embarrassment. you’d made him look like a fool, and that stung. him, who was never one to be outplayed, felt a strange mix of anger and admiration at your audacity. it was both aggravating and irritating, but there was an undercurrent of grudging respect. you’d made all of them look like morons, yet there was something about your confidence, the way you casually took nanami’s money, that he couldn’t help but find intriguing.

gojo clenched his jaw, his own competitive nature burning within him. “that smug little…” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for the others to hear.

geto shot him a bemused smirk, sensing the competitive fire flaring up in his friend. “looks like you’ve met your match, genius,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “and judging by the look on your face, you’re not handling it too well.”

lost in a whirlwind of shock and confusion, they barely noticed you approaching until you were standing right at their table, an amused, knowing smile on your lips. with a graceful, almost lazy flick of your wrist, you dropped a small stack of polaroids onto the table, each one falling face-up, showing exactly what they dreaded to see.

each photo captured the same damning image: them, fast asleep, completely unaware, while you sat on their waist, looking down with a mocking pout. your lips jutted out in an exaggerated, fake crying face, as if mourning their obliviousness. their faces, peaceful in sleep, were juxtaposed with your taunting expression, turning the tables in a way none of them could have expected.

toji’s eyes went wide as he flipped through the pictures, his smirk quickly fading to a tight-lipped grimace. sukuna’s jaw clenched, a flush of irritation darkening his cheeks as he processed the fact that you’d played him, all of them, so perfectly. geto let out a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head, unable to hide a mix of amusement and frustration at your brazen boldness.

gojo, usually quick with a snappy comeback, could only stare at the photos, stunned into silence. he glanced up at you, his gaze a mix of admiration and disbelief. you’d outwitted them, effortlessly.

you leaned in slightly, resting one hand on the edge of the table, flashing them a wicked grin. “hope you enjoyed your little nap, boys,” you teased, your tone sweet but dripping with smugness. with one final smirk, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving them speechless, the photos in hand as a constant reminder of the game they’d lost to you.

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