sukuna and gojo use binding vows for sex, taking things like orgasm denials or touch deprivation steps further, where the other is contractually bound to not be able to do certain things, like touch themselves or touch the other etc etc
one such instance being a vow where gojo has a vibrator up his ass, but he can't touch himself or remove it, until sukuna specifically, pulls it out.
he keeps the vibe in throughout the day, with sukuna controlling it remotely, even as they both go throughout their separate days.
gojo goes to have his usual breakfast, and meets yuuji at the dining room, they greet and sit next to each other. yuuji is, as always, energetic and excited to see him
they make conversation, until gojo gives a jolt and starts twitching and huffing. sukuna has turned the vibrator up all the way. yuuji worries and panics and asks him what's wrong. gojo gives a breathy laugh and reassures him. he motions low and tells yuuji about the vibrator inside him, through sudden jolts and soft whimpers.
satoru complains about it, and yuuji advices to remove it or go and take care of himself.
except gojo states that he can’t and yuuji puzzles.
"it's... a pact—mmh!"
"a pact???" yuuji's voice rises in volume, but he visibly calms, shoulders dropping into a fond sigh. "sensei, you really are..." that's all he can manage to say. reprimand is useless. gojo likes it, yuuji is well aware, he is enjoying every second of this, even as he complains.
gojo gives a few odd jolts, undoubtedly an odd pattern of intensity from the vibe, yuuji can guess. sudden irregular ups and downs that are not taken well by the man.
satoru clicks his tongue. "what is that guy doing?" he actually looks irritated for a moment—a look yuuji doesn’t get to see often—until it’s broken with a sigh and his pleased, calm demeanor returns, mimicking the soft waves of pleasure across his thighs.
still, yuuji can see his hands crumpled at his sides, undoubtedly wishing to use them.
that's when satoru perks flares up all of a sudden.
"actually, yuuji,” he turns to look at him, grinning. “you can help me" he opens his legs and lifts the edges of his kimono, his dick peeking out the fabric. yuuji gulps at the sight. satoru motions to it, giving yuuji a wordless look. yuuji hesitates for a moment, but complies, taking his hand to the cock, and starts stroking.
satoru crumbles under the touch, immediately breathing out his nose and muffling moans. he leans into yuuji, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, fingers clasped in yuuji's kimono, nuzzling into his hair and whining in his ear.
satoru's sounds fluctuate in pitch and volume, making it known when his vibe's gotten stronger. yuuji keeps his pace and satoru spills in his hand. he twitches and sighs, soft breaths against yuuji's flushed ear.
yuuji stares at the cum in his hand.
"you can wipe it on me,” satoru tells him with a breath that's calmed much too fast. “my clothes are already soiled anyways". and yuuji feels bad for it, but he obeys nonetheless.
satoru takes a hand to yuuji's chin and turns his face to him and gives him a kiss. short and sweet.
"as a reward." he smiles at yuuji. the boy surprises but takes it happily, cheeks warm and eyes softened, albeit a bit timidly. a tinge of disappointment colors the edges of his face.
"you want more?" satoru brings his face to yuuji's again. the vibrations have reached a slight plateau, so his voice is steadier.
yuuji’s face widens a bit, but he nervously chuckles, pulling back from gojo's face. "no, it's alright," he lies. "i don't want sukuna to kill me"
but satoru’s already pulling into him, breathing into his lips. "i won't let him <3"
"that's...actually reassuring......" yuuji’s eyes flutter shut as satoru's lips meet his again.
and with that, they're kissing and slowly the vibrations and gojo’s twitching start again. satoru moves atop yuuji's lap to straddle him, and while they kiss, yuuji takes his hand between them and jerks him off again. satoru moans and gasps into his mouth, each jolt mirroring the pulses against his prostate.
they separate for gojo to bury his face in yuuji's shoulders, arms hugging his neck. he humps into yuuji's hand until he comes against him again.
he pants and huffs atop the boy, catching his breath. yuuji's gentle arms hold him, fingers rubbing slow circles at his back.
satoru's breathing calms against yuuji’s neck.
"yuuji, u're such a good boy."
yuuji's heart and dick swell.
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Okay so inspired by nothing in particular (it's inspired by reading the notes on the ace swag final poll, fun stuff in there), I have been thinking about being Cringe. Cause like, you enter a fandom, and usually, you find out shortly that somebody else hates that fandom. There is no fandom niche enough that it's not Weird to somebody, and there's no fandom mainstream enough that it's not Annoying to somebody else. And given the fact that some people do hatred recreationally, there's often going to be somebody mad enough about your fandom that they're going to go on diatribes about how your fandom is bad and actually harmful and destroying the fabric of civilization, etc. They're gonna pull out anything negative and blow it up until it's the size of the skyline and attack you for liking this negative thing.
Fun times, we've all seen it.
And the thing is, there's an impulse to have this happen and immediately find somebody else to point to and say, yeah, well, I might be weird, but at least I'm not THAT guy. I might read YA, but at least I'm not a Furry— those guys are sexual deviants! I might be into actual play podcasts, but at least I'm not into mcyt— those guys are all harmful and my guy is fine. I might be into danmei, but at least I'm not into bandom— rpf is so gross. I might be a furry, but at least I'm not into mainstream romance novels— senseless drivel aimed at middle class white women. Y'know. Immediately find someone to punch down on.
And boy do I understand why you want to do that, when people are pointing at you, but I don't actually think that it's helpful.
Cause like, every fandom has a logical train of thought and reasonable human impulses behind it. You might not share those impulses— I'm not a furry I don't think, I don't really get true crime— but that doesn't mean I can't have it explained to me by a very patient person in in the writer's workshop common room and go "oh, yeah, kinda pretending to be an animal, but you're gay about it, yeah, makes sense", or "oh yeah, morbid curiosity from the safety of your headphones, it's like a horror movie but real" and nod. Like there isn't a fandom or group out there that doesn't look weird from the outside, and there isn't a fandom or group that can't be explained if someone has thought about the human psyche enough.
And that isn't to say that there isn't sometimes salient critiques for what fandoms are doing or not doing— to grab the two examples above, I have heard people talking about issues with true crime reinforcing the current fucked up justice system, or bigotry at furry cons. But a) most of the time, there is already somebody inside that community that's fighting against those issues, and you just threw them under the bus with the problem they're trying to fix b) you don't usually know the nuances of the actual conversation and problems, you saw a couple callout posts. You saying "Yeah I'm a board game nerd but at least I don't play competitive trading card cames, those guys are doing nothing but feeding the capitalist machine" is not usually helpful towards fixing the ctg scene. It's just a cheap way to score points.
Like, I assure you that the YA scene is aware of the calcification of the genre into a tighter and tighter romantic form and their dependence on going big on tik-tok to sell enough to keep publishing. They know.
You specifically saying that your fandom is better cause it's not [problems you heard about other fandom having] is not actually going to make the person who's hating on you stop hating. They already decided that you're the person they're better than and that they're punching down on, you passing the punching down on to another fandom just makes more people sad on the internet, and potentially starts yet another chain of someone punching down at someone else. The wheel grinds on, everybody gets punched.
I guess this is just kinda turning into a "why hate on the internet, what good does that do" post, which is broader than I meant it to be. But like, there's a difference between thoughtful critique of problems (complicated to do fairly but very necessary) and finding someone new to curbstomp to make yourself feel better/morally superior (look, I'm writing this on a mcyt blog, we've all seen this happen, it does not increase the joy in the world).
Like in MCYT, we all decide to punch down on [other server we hate], or RPF, or people who write kidfic, or people who write e-rated fic/art, or people doing the popular trope of the moment, and sure, it lets you feel morally superior for the moment, at the cost of slapping the guy next to you. Haven't we had enough slapping the guy next to you? There but for the grace of god (got a fun idea/watched the wrong stream/ended up in the wrong brainstorming circle/got fixated on the wrong funny guy) goes I. You're not better than another group just because you saw a couple more callout posts (usually from people inside the community trying to fix things) about them.
We are all Cringe. There is nobody who's not Cringe. Don't say that you're not Cringe because someone else is more Cringe. Stop that.
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happy fucking new year
ficlet // the fallout (2021) // word count: 587
“Happy New Year, Vadaaa!”
Amelia’s way-too-enthusiastic voice ripped her older sister from the 4-hour sleep she was working on.
Vada honestly felt hungover—that’s how tired she was. She’d stayed up ‘til 5 am on FaceTime with Nick, Mia, and Quinton, doing stupid shit and playing games through the celebrations and fireworks. They all took shots of champagne and timed who took the longest to pop a balloon with nothing but their own body. Long story short, she crashed hard and had full intentions of sleeping until 2 in the afternoon, at least.
Yet her door was busted open much earlier than that… like well-before-noon much earlier. That much, she could tell.
She kept her head in her pillow and refused to move, hoping her little sister would take the hint and leave her alone.
But that wasn’t Amelia’s style. She and their parents had gone to bed closer to 1 am, yet the walls were thin so she heard Vada shouting into her computer from her room. She didn’t get the sleep she intended last night, so it was time for some karma. She trotted up to the bedside and leapt up on the bed to shake her sibling awake. “Vada!”
The other kept her eyes closed as stirred with an annoyed whine. “What…?”
“Happy New Year!”
She reached back to try and shove her away. “Go away…” she grumbled and pulled her hood over her head to block the sunshine coming through her window.
But Amelia tugged it off. “But it’s the new year!”
“I don’t care, Ameliaaa!” Vada continued to whine. She yanked her comforter up over her head, her voice coming out slightly muffled as she curled in on herself. “Just let me sleep!”
The younger one just giggled though. “It’s 2024!” she expressed once again, “You’ve slept for a year. You went to sleep, feeling like it was 2023 and now you wake up and it’s a year later.” She shifted closer and jumped on top of her, shaking her again just to be as disturbing as she was last night. “Come on!” She pulled on the comforter.
However, her resisting force was greater. “I’m gonna go get Mom,” her older sister threatened.
“Okay, and? I already told her about you staying up so late with your friends,” came the retaliation, “This is just payback.”
Even though she couldn’t see her, Vada could just picture the smirk on her face and the hand on her hip, like she always did whenever she proved a point. “‘Kay, fine. Touché, now get out,” she ordered.
Luckily, Amelia took the hint, but that came bittersweetly as she slid off the bed to leave. “Okay, but Mom’s not gonna let you sleep much longer. We’re doing family stuff today, remember?”
Fuck. She forgot about that. Vada groaned and slipped her hand out from beneath her shelter to grab her phone off her bedside table. Her eyes squinted when the screen lit up to see just how far-off her plan to sleep until the afternoon was.
9:08.
Below the time, she had a series of text messages, all reading the same thing Amelia had woken her up with.
‘Happy New Year.’
As much of a celebration as it had been last night, it stayed being a celebration in the memories of last night. This morning, she didn’t want to hear about it at all. She just wanted to sleep.
She set her phone down with a groan and shut her eyes again.
“Happy fucking new year…”
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