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ꫝbout me; ꫂ᭪݁iaᏂ, ໑teen

love narusasu , bi, black, will not write for; scat, piss, anything featuring r@pe in a way that glorifies or romanticizes it.

narusasu, and toji fanatic .ᐟ , requests open, update atleast once a week.

ℓo͟v͟ꫀ ყoυ .ᐟ

(page is still underworks !)

soccer player jjk cast fulfill century old traditions

“Ohh shittt.” Satoru laughs, raising a fist up to his mouth as he shifts Yuji’s head around to show everyone.

Behind him, Suguru reaches a hand to to lift up a tuft of hair at the back of yuji’s head. A small patch of hair, formed into the shape of…

a penis?

“bro no fucking way…” He joins, but instead he’s gawking at the back of satoru’s head.

In the seat, poor Yuji is struggling to swivel his head around, frantically asking, “What fucking way? What the hell did you do?”

“You don’t even wanna know bro.” Satoru responds back, staring at the clippers in his hand like they forced him to draw a penis on the back of yuji’s head.

Suddenly, a hand knocks at his the bald middle of his head, his hands flying up to shield his head— mourn over the loss of hair— and the bizarre breeze on his scalp.

“Ouch! Fuck! What’s up with you man—

He turns around to yell, but the words dying on his lips when he sees Sukuna standing in the doorway.

A squeal leaves his mouth, or Yuji’s , as the clippers clatter to the ground infront of his feet.

Sukuna is seething wayy more than usual, Yuji notes, not even bothering to turn around. He already knows they’re fucked, he just decides he doesn’t have to see it.

See, this whole shtick started with Satoru, as they always do.

Sweat soaks his shirt, making it cling to his skin, him practically having to peel it off as he walks back inside the locker room with his teammates, wanting nothing more than to just shower, and get the grass out of his everywhere.

Everyone’s exhausted, they’ve been practicing back to back from the time school ended at 3:15 to 7:30 every day for two weeks. Back to back training under Sukuna’s intese coaching. Yuji wouldn’t have it any other way though, he’s worked hard to make it to the team, and he intends to keep it that way.

Anyways, he gets inside, yada yada yada, Sukuna talking about the first match of the season, no workouts this week take a break, locker room erupts into cheers when he leaves, its so typical.

He’s fresh out the shower and in a normal pair of clothes when Gojo and a couple of upperclassmen call him up.

“Yo, Yuji!” Satoru becons, waving him over with a wide smile.

His head whips around to where Gojo’s voice came from, slamming the metal locker closed with a slight bam. “Yeah?! Yes Gojo-san?” He stammered, unsure how to address his upperclassmen, and team captain.

The group around Gojo erupt into a fit of laughter, one of them —sporting multiple piercings that Yuji was sure Sukuna would never allow on the pitch— snickered extra loud, repeating what Yuji said in a mocking way. “Yeah Gojo-san”

A blank expression crosses Yuji’s face. Not one of indifference, but something akin to confusion on what he was supposed to think, or feel, or say. “Did I say something funny?”

“No,no,” Gojo assures, signaling for the group around him to shut-up. “You’re good, they’re just a bunch of assholes.”

Ok now he’s feeling self conscious, because if it isn’t what he said, what else would it be? Yuji raises a hand to the back if his head to itch in confusion. “So what are they laughing at?”

“Its just that noone calls me Gojo-san or even Gojo.”

An eyebrow quirks up, him still not catching a single clue. “Is that not your name? I’m confused.”

Gojo shakes his head, fed up of explaining. “That’s not important, just call me Satoru.”

“Okay.”

“Ok. Now that we’re back on track!” A sly smile cracks open on Gojo’s face, shiny teeth almost blinding Yuji, “ See, the first game of the season is approaching, and it’s something of a decade long tradition..”

Someone next to him , who looks entirely too grown to still be in highschool interjects, voice muffled and nasally due to him picking his nose. “A century my ass.” He scoffs.

Gojo, no Satoru shoots him a pointed look, “as I said, super old tradition, done every year to everyone on the team, especially new incoming freshmen.”

Yuji nods simply, fully listening, “woow.”

“Yeah, yeah, its sort of like a good luck charm before the season kicks off.” He pauses for effect, hands flying around as he demonstrates, “its kinda like this. Y’know how some people wear the same socks without washing it to special games, or they wear special nail polish?”

“Or wear the same underwear every game.” Someone with scarred lips, Yuji’s pretty sure his name is Toji, says, “Or smoke a nice cold cigarette.”

“That doesn’t count Toji, you smoke one everyday.” Nanami adds, pushing in his glasses.

“Yeah, thats why I said a nice and cold cigarette.”

Satoru is frantically waving his hands around, trying to get tge attention back to him, “Ok ok, point made. So the tradition is very important to the outcome and process of the game. We need this for a good season.”

And Yuji’s just nodding away, poor thing not realizing what he’s signing up for.

“We all have to give eachother haircuts.”

“The fuck?” Toji asks, clearly he hadn’t been informed of this century old tradition.

“That’s not what we agreed on Gojo. I thought the tradition was cutting the new freshman’s hair.” Geto’s hands travel up to his long hair, carding through the strands to show them, “I’m not letting you monkeys touch my babies.”

“Oh please your babies are full of split ends, you need a trim anyways.” Emo #2 pioes back, hair styled into two space buns.

Clearly they had some type of rivalry.

Hairvalry.

Whatever, the name is a work in progress.

Either way it’s clear that they haven’t rehearsed their century long tradition, in centuries. Its pretty clear that this whole shitck is full of bull, and yet he followed, helped to cut everyone’s hair but Toji’s who refused to loft his bangs because of the terrific monster of a forehead under.

Naturally, everyone understood his position and granted him mercy, a forehead like that is already a burden enough, a bad haircut would only worsen the 7head issue situation.

And back to present when Sukuna has them all standing up against the wall while he assess the damage. Walking yo the first one on his left, Suguru, he motions for the man to give him a three sixty, and his jaw almost drops.

Everything looks normal, except for a large diamond in the middle of his head. Whoever drew this hadn’t even attempted to make it straight, sukuna had half a mind to compare it to a dalgona cookie challenge. Right in the middle of the diamond, lays two —again, poor craftmanship— maybe an initial?

“Who the hell is JB?” He asks, eyes lifting off the sigh infront of him to Gojo.

“J-Justin Beiber, coach.”

Sukuna shoots him a disappointing look, moving onto Nanami, who’s standing there looking unbothered. Like he didn’t have an avatar line shaved from the middle of his head down about where his ears were.

“Can you airbend?”

Nanami simply shakes his head no, eyes focused down on the ground.”

He skips right over Toji, and Choso, who’s now completely bald and with a bright orange hat slapped on, landing right at Yuji.

He’s already facing the wall, his mohawk dick cut exposed to the world. Sukuna leans in, noticing how the even tufts of mohawk were probably the cutters attempts to salvage the dickuation.”

“You’re gonna need to buzz your dick off.” He advises, after seeing the front.

Yuji sputters, Gojo bursts out laughing, and soon everyone follows suit, making this the second time today that a group of people had burst out laughing at him.

“M-my what?”

“Your dickuation, you’re gonna need to buzz that.” Sukuna repeats, gesturing to his dick, sorry, hair, repeating himself slowly as if that would make his statement make more sense.

“Yes coach.”

sasuke loves being babied. narusasu

a shudder racks sasuke’s lips as he gently twists the door knob open, the warm steam from his shower meeting the cool air. water freely dropping down from his hair to his face as his feet pitter patter out the bathroom and towards his and naruto’s bedroom.

“naruto?” he calls out, pouty roses, as naruto would call it, forming on his face when he hears no response. walking in further into the bedroom, and naruto still was nowhere to be found.

what else could he possibly be doing other than waiting for sasuke’s shower so he could dry his hair? what else could possibly be taking up his attention but him?