#but then again. we get along quite well as long as we dont come across anything political (lmao) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 1 year ago

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SEL…… T__T the way i would literally die for you. i really wanna take the time to thank u properly so this might get long shjdihisu i dont wanna clog up ur inbox so!!! ill just write it here. hopefully u can see it and tumblr doesnt eat up your notifs too :’3 im so sorry u had to write all of this TWICE thats awful, tysm for taking the time…… :’’3

FIRST OF ALL i love you…… im picking u up and spinning u around. youre so sweet!!!!! i cant wait to return the favor once i get the time to binge col hehe >:3 but honestlyyy thank you!! i was sobbing while reading all you wrote aaa ur too kind!! <333

it was so fun seeing all the lines you liked!!! im so happy u thought ”decisive slice of heaven” was pretty🥺🥺u said so many sweet things abt my writing…. tysm <3 😭😭 ur so attentive to how people write, its honestly so admirable!!! <33 i was reading all ur comments like this

im also so relieved you enjoyed my take on gojo’s death bc like…. it hurt me so bad to write but i dont think it felt very awful for gojo at all????? he just looks so at PEACE in that one panel that im like… okay. im fine. totally not falling to my knees thinking abt how he looks more at peace dying than we’ve ever seen him….……… 🥲🥲 i really wanted to show that feeling of resignation/peace/relief(?) that i think he prolly felt, along with the not-exactly-fear-but-similar that even he cant avoid feeling. so its such a relief that it came across well !!

im so honoured you think the character writing is accurate too…. u have no idea how happy that makes me!!!!!!!!! fr!! i love being delusional n self-indulgent in the way i write characters, but w/ this specific fic i really wanted to capture at least a lil bit of canon gojo and geto so!!!! im just so happy that you thought it felt real !! <33

and sel🥺🥺🥺🥺everything u wrote for the stsg dialogue….🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺u almost made me cry spdnhxhdjd thank u!! sm??!!!! im genuinely sooo ecstatic that it resonated with u <333 im a stsg enjoyer at heart so i really wanted to do them justice, their interactions in 236 absolutely RUINED me sel… its so insane to me how genuine gojo feels whenever he talks to suguru yknow?? like thats his BESTIE and i feel like he’s also the only person gojo feels comfy being weak around…. theyre so special to me sob!!! im so insanely happy that you enjoyed their interactions :’))

and i agree with u sm!!! i think the question of gojo’s wants & happiness is so INTERESTING to explore n ultimately i always end up with just. him wanting a slice of normalcy. just little things like buying ice cream with his friends in high school, taking his students to the movies, going to a bar with shoko and nanami... etc etc. i just feel like those tiny moments are what gojo treasures most in the world

my heart aches sososo much at the airport scene because it really feels like he’s envisioning a dreamlike scenario where he gets all that he wants, and thats…. just his youth back. just being able to laugh with his best friend again. and its such a small wish but that makes it so heartbreaking to me sel :’3 he wants so LITTLE and he cant have it bc his entire existence just encompasses so much…

aaa im so happy that you mentioned the whole god/human thing too!! gojo as a character is so fascinating to me bc he just boils down to this idea of like…. what if we took a random boy and made him into a god? what if we gave him so much strenght that he’ll never quite be seen as human by the world? will that boy be able to live and still love others, even though they’ll never reach him? and i think akutami’s way of writing that is SO good. it also ties into how similar he is to figures like the buddha, or generally just mythological heroes and stuff. he’s so tragic and good, and also undeniably human, and that’s like… his one great weakness. which is heartbreaking!!

aaa and it means sm coming from u too!!! ur gojo feels so so human and real to me, it was the first thing i thought when i read ur fics!! like you really capture his more vulnerable subconscious and that part of him thats soo human even though he might try to hide it and its just. heart wrenching to me 😭😭 he feels so genuine to me

AND SEL….. ur so so RIGHT about gojo. like you get him so well. it makes me wanna ramble so bad bc everything you said is just so TRUE. the way everyone needs him, the world needs him, and he CHOOSES to bear that weight even though he could just throw it away… he could easily run away and let everything go to hell but he doesnt, and thats so……… idk. it makes me insane. it just really shows his kindness n humanity, he isnt a saint or anything but he just… deals with sm and never complains T__T

AND HONESTLY THE WHOLE BINDING VOW THING….. ive been hoping for it to happen ever since the shinjuku fight started LMAO, i just think itd be the perfect end to gojo’s character arc!!! forcing him to live without that gift, and letting us see for ourselves if he still remains the same… and IF it really does happen (i still have hope lmaoo) i think we’re going to see that he will!! he may not be the strongest but nothing will change, he’ll still be our gojo :’3

aaa overall i just wanna say tysm for writing this all out sel…. T__T twice at that!!! youre honestly so sweet im just. exploding rn LMAOO thank you for all ur kind words abt my writing n everything!!! it means sm!!! and thank u for taking the time to read it in the first place <33

oh my destiny, how far you have sprung now ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru gojo chooses north.

word count; 5.2k

contents; satoru gojo, canon divergence, HEAVY jjk spoilers (for chapter 236!! but also kinda 237), fix-it fic, me coping w/ the manga for 5k words straight, canon-typical violence and death, implied stsg, probably non-canon compliant use of binding vows (but do i care? no), gojo satoru lives.

a/n; yeaaa this is literally just me coping <3 needed to write this for my mental health. he’s fine guys trust me

the experience is not altogether unfamiliar, on its own.

he’s felt it before. even now, he can still vividly recall it; a girl he failed to protect, a boy he failed to save. a man with a scar on his bottom lip.

that sickening numbness, as he lied in a pool of his own blood. sticking to his hair and tattered clothes, the colour red flooding his subconscious. that cold, cold sensation — a jarring shift, chilling and ruthless, going from everything to nothing. tiptoeing the line between life and death.

emptiness. sinking deeper into the abyss, that all-enveloping darkness. that awful feeling of pure helplessness.

he could never forget it.

back then, though, gojo is certain he didn’t feel this way. all he could think about twelve years ago was survival — clinging to the weak flutter of his heart, a dying butterfly. clawing his way up to the skies. anything to escape that harrowing sensation, a kind of desperation all humans feel in the face of certain death, spurring him on. but now —

he almost welcomes it. nearly content in its approach. it should frighten him, but it doesn’t.

through half-lidded eyes, vision blurred by sweat and blood and dust, gojo watches the sky.

it's beautiful, he thinks. as beautiful as ever. peaceful, unchanging, soothing in an eerie kind of way. that clear blue, fading a little at the corners as his muddled mind grows just a little darker, a little more fatigued. he can barely gather the strength to keep his eyelids open.

yet he keeps his gaze on that endless sky, as if it’s all he’s ever known.

with every passing second, the world grows just a little more blurry. pale dots spread around the corners of his vision, like grains of stardust in an ever-expanding cosmos, clouding his senses. there’s a buzzing in his head that won’t go away. everything looks as if it's spinning, and he can barely tell left from right, north from south. everything is growing darker, so fast that it’s alarming, and gojo can’t seem to even think clearly.

but he can still see that blue, blue sky. bluer than he ever remembers it being. even as snow begins to fall, descending upon shinjuku as if bidding him farewell. the sky takes on a gray hue, but that shade of blue is still all gojo can see, as he takes shallow breaths and half-heartedly attempts to remain conscious. willing himself not to give in just yet, choking on his own blood.

and it's an odd feeling, really. one he never thought he'd meet again, but here it is, it's back — and it's all-consuming. beckoning him into a place he’s never been before. the unknown.

it's not scary. gojo doesn’t think he has it in him to feel fear, anymore. but it's a strange sensation, as death kisses its way up his neck, sending shivers down his spine; as the numbness spreads, devouring him whole.

it’s unknown. thoroughly and wholly. and that unknown is overwhelming, all-encompassing, it’s all he can see before him, it's —

ah.

gojo takes a deep breath. the air burns his lungs.

everything's ending, isn't it?

it would be so easy. to simply close his eyes, let them flutter shut as that all-encompassing sensation takes him down to earth. to allow himself to simply rest, for a moment. wouldn’t that be nice?

it would be so easy.

gojo watches the sky. it's all he can do.

the numbness keeps spreading throughout every cell of his body. he can barely feel the blood trickling down his chin, or the harsh bite of the winter cold, his skin buzzing with ache. he can't feel his arms or his legs, and he knows exactly why. everything in the world is closing in on him and god, he just feels so fucking tired.

ah. ah. more darkness. more numbness.

everything and nothing, all at once. slipping away into oblivion. the snow keeps falling but he can't see anything, can't hear anything, can't feel anything, anything at all.

nothing. nothing. less than nothing.

— and then, suddenly, an airport.

"yo."

gojo blinks.

a boy. a boy with black hair, tied into a small bun. a dead boy. his best friend.

suguru stands before him, and he looks exactly the same as gojo remembers. young, bright, with those awkward bangs still hanging over his face. grinning boyishly, and greeting him with youthful cheer.

gojo feels young, too, he realizes — the weight on his shoulders a little less heavy, the familiar black of his sunglasses obscuring his vision. but he can still see the flicker of suguru’s cursed energy clear as day. as if he never left.

feigning a mild displeasure, gojo makes a face. he hears himself speak, but his mind and six eyes continue to spin in circles, trying to comprehend the sight in front of him. trying to make it understandable, figure out what’s going on.

but he doesn’t succeed. because it’s impossible to understand. and, really, that’s answer enough.

huh.

so this is what the afterlife is like?

he inhales through his nose, basking in the clear air, and it doesn’t burn his lungs. his chest feels lighter than it’s been in years.

that seems a little too good to be true.

"you’re kidding me. this sucks.”

suguru makes a kind of face like he’s pouting, plopping down in the seat right next to gojo’s. the white haired boy stretches his limbs out and huffs, pretending the sight in front of him doesn't send a tremor running through his very soul.

suguru continues to speak and gojo continues to listen, all while observing the scenery in front of him.

the airport looks familiar. through the glass windows he can see a glimmer of the blue sky, and a plane waiting to take flight into the clouds. the air smells of summer and jet fuel and new beginnings. it’s pleasantly cool, a light breeze caressing his skin and coaxing a hum from the confines of his throat.

(he remembers this airport. remembers having his arms full of vending machine snacks, trailing after suguru as he dealt with all the annoying technicalities. amanai was there, too, watching a plane soar up into the sky with childlike wonder. a little anxious, as she boarded the plane to okinawa, and then back to tokyo.

her first and last flight.)

suguru is there, right next to him, and he’s speaking. breathing. like something out of a dream, the kind that always haunts gojo in his sleep.

he breathes in, and then out.

suguru is there. and not just him – nanami and haibara are, too. all young, all dead. all somehow breathing; he sees them inhale and he sees them exhale. he hears them speak and it’s like nothing ever changed.

they speak of regrets, of south and of north. nanami doesn’t seem to regret a single thing, and gojo is glad. even yaga is there, he notices belatedly. even amanai, and her maid, and a certain man with a scar on his bottom lip. everyone all together again.

the airport buzzes with warmth. nostalgia, as suguru’s laughter rings in his ears. and gojo grins, in tandem, bright and childlike. wallowing in the tender atmosphere.

the sight in front of his eyes is perfect, he thinks. absolutely perfect. a glimmer of spring, one he never quite managed to forget. a vibrant flicker of blue, one he thought he’d lost forever.

his one and only blue spring of youth, right in front of his all-seeing eyes.

a little too good to be true.

with a sigh, gojo stretches idly, smiling a little to himself. his joints don’t ache, his head isn’t buzzing with fatigue, and his heart feels lighter than it's been in recent memory.

“now i’m hoping this isn’t a dream,” he hears himself mutter, allowing his eyes to flutter shut at last. he can still see suguru’s cursed energy, and everyone else’s. he isn’t alone. what a nice thought.

and it’s strange, gojo thinks. it really is. he’s dead. sukuna killed him. he’s dead, his remains are lying somewhere in the streets of shinjuku, and that should bother him. he should be punching the floor and screaming, cursing sukuna’s name with every fiber of his being — it should frighten him, the realization that everything has ended.

but it doesn’t.

gojo isn’t afraid. and he isn’t upset, either. he bears no grudge against anyone, just like that day twelve years ago.

he’s with suguru, now, and his juniors. his old teacher. the people he cares for are with him, and the airport smells so nice. everyone is young, and happy, and none of them will ever have to kill or be killed again.

calling it anything less than heaven would be doing it a disservice.

gojo smiles, exhaling a relieved breath. one he hadn’t realized he’d been holding til now, stuck in the back of his throat for the past decade. a tiny thought makes it to the forefront of his brain, like a spring breeze flitting in through an open window.

like this, he thinks, i could die with no regrets.

“— except that’s not true.” a voice proclaims. “is it?”

gojo opens his eyes.

suguru looks at him. everything goes silent. everyone else has already gone blurry, a little faded, as if they aren’t what’s really important. as if the entire world has narrowed down to just this; him, and suguru, in the corner of an airport too precious for words. that one decisive slice of heaven.

suguru opens his mouth, and speaks, and his voice has a finality to it that fills gojo with a mellow kind of dread.

they look into each other’s eyes, and both know what’s coming.

“the students are outclassed.” suguru rests his chin on the heel of his palm. ”you said it yourself — sukuna wasn’t giving it his all when he fought you. he still has more than a couple cards up his sleeve, doesn’t he? like his incarnation.”

gojo listens to suguru speak, not saying a word.

“they’re no match for him,” he continues, unperturbed. “all of them are going to die. every single one.”

suguru leans back in his chair, still looking straight into gojo’s eyes. seeing through him, gaze filled with a certain sharpness. a little cruel, but there’s a kindness there, too. as if he’s simply ripping the band-aid off, trying to make it as painless as possible.

he clicks his tongue.

“and you still haven’t buried my body, either.”

a moment passes. then two.

gojo smiles to himself, rueful. a little saddened.

“.. damn,” he grins, weakly. leaning back in his chair, slumping against the soft leather. “couldn’t you have kept indulging me for just a bit longer?”

suguru smiles. a soft thing, in the flicker of the light. a little too good to be true. “sorry,” he chimes. “but the plane is leaving soon.”

as if on cue, the pa system sounds.

flight to okinawa; departing in nineteen minutes.

“it hasn’t left, yet,” suguru hums, and it sounds like an inevitability. ringing in gojo’s ears. “you know what that means, don’t you?”

he does. he does, but it still hurts. gojo looks into suguru’s eyes, and sees himself reflected in them — young, transparent. blue. fading, but not quite faded. not quite dead.

and maybe it’s to be expected. maybe he was just trying to delude himself into believing the alternative, into believing that an afterlife as sweet as this could really be waiting for him. maybe it was naive, a childish fantasy.

but still —

”haah.” a heavy exhale, fatigued. gojo slumps even further into his seat, squeezing his eyes shut. running a hand through the soft strands of his hair. ”oh, gimme a break. and here i thought i could finally relax for once.”

a chuckle flows from suguru’s lips, amused. ”you aren’t the type to go down like that,” he murmurs. ”c’mon, satoru. there are still things you need to do.”

”how?” gojo scoffs. ”i’m split in half. and i’m too exhausted to use my reverse cursed technique.”

”eh,” suguru shrugs. ”you’ll manage.”

gojo shoots him a dubious look. ”you’re acting like it’s a papercut,” he huffs, crossing his arms. ”my guts are on the fuckin’ pavement.”

”oh, quit your complaining already," suguru rolls his eyes, and shoots him an accusatory glance. "i died with a hole through my chest. at least your heart is still intact.”

the white haired boy gapes at him, offended. ”i wanted to make it painless for you!”

”well, it hurt like a bitch. so thanks for that.”

gojo pouts, fighting back a smile. he thinks suguru must be doing the same. and it’s juvenile, a little twisted — but then again, weren’t they always?

suguru cocks his head. beckoning gojo into taking action. ”you’ve still got some fight left in you,” he says, and there’s a fondness to it. ”you always do.”

”get up, satoru.”

silence. unbroken, unperturbed. if he focuses enough, he thinks he can hear the distant buzzing of cicadas, the crinkling of soda cans. the whistling of the wind. placebos; memories ghosting his subconscious.

it’s quiet, for a while. gojo stares into space, blinking slowly. then he parts his lips.

”suguru.”

the boy in question turns towards him. but gojo looks up, instead — eyes set on the roof, like he’s trying to see beyond it. into the comfort of the blue sky.

suguru hums, a cue for him to follow. and gojo closes his eyes.

”i think… i might be tired.”

silence. no one says a thing.

”i think i’d prefer to stay here,” he admits, a forlorn look in his eyes. tapping his fingers on his knee. ”in the past, like this.”

the scent of jet fuel and summer lies heavy in the air. gojo inhales it, greedy. as if savouring it. trying to make it a part of his being, filling his lungs with sweet nostalgia so it never goes away.

”we could just stay here. together,” he muses, barely above a whisper. there’s a kind of longing to the tilt of his voice, something soft. ”couldn’t we? never moving forward, or back.”

the words taste salty, on his tongue. an ocean breeze. a whisper. ”we could just stay like this.”

suguru’s gaze trails from satoru, down to his lap. his bangs follow the slow movement, silky strands falling over his eye. the chuckle that drifts from his lips doesn’t have much humour to it.

”haha… you’ve never been the type to stay in one place for too long, satoru.”

gojo clenches his fist.

”you want me to go back,” he hears himself say, somewhat bitter. ”you want me to go back, and then what? there’s nothing i can do. i’m not the strongest, anymore.”

”you are.” suguru’s voice is firm, decisive. ”you can still win. you know exactly what you need to do. there’s only one way to get out of this.”

gojo sighs. one hand in his hair, tousling it. mildly frustrated. ”… it’s risky.”

”you’re bleeding out.”

”if i do this — i won’t ever be the same.” gojo turns to look at suguru. ”i sure as hell won’t be the strongest, anymore.”

”and would that be such a bad thing?”

silence. the two boys look at each other — one dead and one half-alive, both connected to the other. for eternity. suguru’s eyes are full of understanding, as they look into the blue of satoru’s.

”there’s always been a gap between you and everyone else. that’s what you said, before. aren’t you tired of it?”

gojo closes his eyes.

that’s right. that aching gap. the solitude that comes with absolute strength — a weight he’s borne all his life. doomed never to connect with others, never to be understood. doomed to always live in the sky, far away from the earth and the ocean.

the title of the strongest. a cross he alone had to bear.

(did he ever really want it? or was he just resigned to it, conditioned from the very beginning?)

the feeling of isolation that’s been haunting him for decades seeps into his skin. the cruel knowledge that no one will ever truly know him; even worse, the knowledge that it’s all for the best. you can admire a flower, and help it bloom, but you can’t ask it to understand you.

such a cruel curse to be born with.

suguru’s voice fills his mind. the flicker of his cursed energy is gentle, like an ocean wave rolling in right before the sun sets. ”you said it yourself, satoru.” gojo can hear the smile in his voice. ”you love everyone.”

love. it always comes down to that, doesn't it? the greatest curse of them all.

(but he could never bring himself to fully throw it away.)

”there are still people waiting for you, out there,” suguru reminds him. and gojo knows that he’s right.

he still hasn’t buried suguru’s body. that thing is still inside his head, doing god knows what. and his students — they must be fighting sukuna, right now. if he’s lucky, no one’s dead yet. if he’s lucky. then there’s shoko, of course. and ijichi, everyone else from the school.

not just that — the world itself is waiting on him. waiting for him to pass on, so it can crumble away. waiting for him to make it, so he can stitch it back together.

dying isn’t a luxury satoru gojo can afford. he knows that, he does, but —

dammit.

”suguru,” he starts, hesitant. voice more feeble than he ever remembers it sounding. ”what… should i do, from here on out?” a pause. uncertain. ”where should i go?”

suguru raises a single eyebrow, tilting his head. ”do you really need me to tell you that?” he asks, a little teasing. gojo’s reply is instantaneous.

”i do.”

the airport falls silent, again.

”i’ll listen to you,” he elaborates, tapping the edge of his chair, absentmindedly. eyes shining with a glimmer of something tender. ”so… it has to be you.”

suguru inhales, softly. breathing out in a meek chuckle, with a soft shake of his head. ”well, in that case…”

a smile. he meets gojo’s gaze. ”then i think you should go north.”

gojo looks into his eyes. a moment passes, slow, detached from space and time. their eyes meet, and in suguru’s eyes, gojo sees a reflection of their youth.

what a shame.

”alrighty, then.”

placing his palms on his knees, gojo gets up from his seat. stretching his arms with a soft groan. a sigh flows from his lips, drifting out into the clear air.

”so much for finally getting a vacation,” he huffs, frowning as he casts a jealous glance at his best friend. ”you dead people have it easy, you know that?”

suguru’s still smiling, but he’s not getting up from his seat. the pa system sounds, again. a little louder this time.

flight to okinawa; departing in six minutes.

a deep breath. air flows into his lungs, and then back out; soaking up the summer air he knows he’ll never quite get a taste of again.

suguru stays right where he is. young, dead. smiling. the same smile he wore when gojo killed him, framed by the setting sun. the same kind of sunset that’s beginning to form outside the translucent windows of the airport, nostalgic and sweet, dyeing the clouds in a soft pinkish hue.

it’s breathtaking.

”will i see you?” gojo asks, before he can stop himself. eyes still stuck to the setting sun. ”when everything ends.”

…

suguru chuckles, again. rueful. gojo thinks it sounds just a bit meek, a little like he’s holding back tears. ”maybe,” he breathes, shrugging halfheartedly. not meeting his eyes. ”who knows?”

it’s not the answer gojo wants to hear. but he’ll take what he can get.

and finally, suguru gets up. slowly, methodically. elegant, in the way he moves, the way he brushes non-existent dust off his baggy pants. smiling, hair swaying softly with the breeze. gojo finds his gaze, and that smile shifts into a lazy grin. one so distinctly suguru that it can’t possibly be just a figment of his imagination.

”don’t find out too soon,” he quips, teasingly. ”alright?”

a slap. gojo doesn’t see it coming, and it knocks him forward — he stumbles slightly, lanky legs moving clumsily, sunglasses falling off at the impact. his back stings, a little.

over his shoulder, he looks back at suguru. the boy has a hand raised, and his grin is playful, brimming with warmth. except he’s no longer a boy — now he’s wearing traditional robes, hair much longer, face a little more hardened. but that grin is still the same as ever. gojo thinks he looks almost proud.

”go get ’em, satoru.”

gojo blinks.

the grin that breaks out across his lips, then, is wide. bright, brimming with youth, lighting up every corner of his face. almost overwhelmingly sweet. it envelops his very being, as he stands there, clad in his black compression shirt and baggy pants. hair a little less messy than it was in high school, face a little more hardened — but he hopes his grin, at least, looks the same as ever.

he turns his back on suguru, and puffs out his chest. trying to hide the sappy smile still lingering on his lips, the glassiness of his eyes. his voice comes out loud, cheery, echoing throughout the airport — but still somehow so tender.

”roger that!”

gojo looks ahead. the airport is blurred, a little hazy, but a bright light shines farther up ahead. a beacon for him to follow, one that blinds him if he looks at it for too long. blue, white, golden — the colours of the sky. beckoning him forward, to a familiar place.

he takes one step north.

”ah, satoru. one more thing.”

the sound of suguru’s voice stops him in his tracks. ”hm?” gojo turns on his heel, white hair tousled by the soft breeze. a little confused. ”what is it now?”

suguru grins. the whole airport smells like spring.

”—, — —.”

…

one long, tender moment passes by. gojo doesn’t even breathe, mouth falling open slightly, in a way that must look comical to the man in front of him.

the airport glimmers like a marble in the sun. transparent, blurred, but still somehow so real. suguru’s words echo in his mind.

then gojo laughs, the sound bubbling up from his throat like seafoam on a scorching summer day. hearty and deep, coaxed out from the very bottom of his gut — genuine. a little breathless. he can’t wipe away the grin on his face, wouldn’t do it even if he could. his blue eyes crinkle, as he looks at suguru, showing off his dimples and teeth.

”so corny,” he teases. suguru rolls his eyes.

”hey, don’t blame me. this is your imagination.”

a huff slips from his lips. ”yeah, yeah…” gojo waves him off. then he meets his eyes, again, still grinning boyishly. ”i’ll hold you to that, okay?”

”got it,” suguru chirps. ”good luck out there, satoru.”

”pssh. who do you think you’re talking to?”

the men exchange smiles, one final time. funny, how that’s always how their story ends; with a heartfelt smile. even if it’s coated in blood, or nothing more than a figment of their imagination.

then gojo turns around, again, and takes a step forward. not looking back this time. trusting suguru to still be there, watching over him. like always.

the bright light at the end of the airport glimmers, tantalizing, mesmerizing. suguru is right — there’s only one way to get out of this. only one way to make it back alive.

and it’s risky. very much so. it’s a gamble, the greatest one gojo’s ever made, even worse than that time twelve years ago with the reverse cursed technique.

it’s a gamble, all or nothing.

binding vows are dangerous, fickle things. built on equivalent exchange. give something and get something, of equal value. sacrifice and gain.

gojo’s thought about it, before. a morbid curiosity.

what could he possibly gain by offering the greatest treasure of the jujutsu world?

he lifts one hand up, to caress his face. lingering over the skin of his eyelids, now closed. but he can still see the cursed energy around him. burned into his retinas.

the six eyes. the blessing of sight.

a blessing. a blessing he never once asked for, one he was simply born with. born with all this power, doomed to live above the rest. all for a pair of eyes that never seem to see the things that really matter.

and, really, it’s a gamble.

gojo takes a deep breath, and then one large step forward.

(buddha left the royal life behind him at 29 years of age, he recalls. and then he sought out enlightenment.)

the light comes closer, and closer. lotus flowers bless his path. he takes seven steps forward, and his path blooms out before him; one flower blooming by his feet for every step he takes. seven steps north.

i’ll give you everything, he speaks to the someone watching the world. a god, a natural order, himself — it doesn’t really matter. i’ll give you all six.

in exchange —

the light is close, now. so close he can almost touch it. it burns his skin, but he doesn’t falter. he doesn’t look away, eyes seeing through the blindness and reaching out for something. something alive.

don’t let me die, he bargains. give me enough of it to kill him.

i still have things i need to do.

one more step, out of the airport —

(and satoru gojo makes a sacrifice.)

a binding vow is made.

the six eyes dissipate, like vapour drifting off into the darkness of a never-ending cosmos.

when gojo opens his eyes, he’s met with a cold, gray sky.

the world shifts on its axis before him.

everything looks different. he can’t see, but he can, it’s just not the same as before. it’s naked, and raw, and surface-level. not enough to sink his teeth into.

he can still see cursed energy, feel the flicker of it all around him, but it’s hazy. it’s not clear enough, not enough for him to get a good grasp on — like the world lost its saturation. like everything got tilted slightly to the left. an eerie feeling that something isn’t as it should be.

and wow, okay. this is new.

but gojo parts his lips, weakly, and breathes in — and the air tastes the same as ever. cold, crispy. it fills his lungs and he exhales it through his nose. a human act. a breath of life.

i’m still alive.

it’s an odd feeling, like someone took a heavy weight off his shoulders. like someone stripped him of everything that makes him him. an strange sensation, heavy, entirely impossible to ignore. however —

the gain after the loss hits him almost immediately, embracing him with a burst of cursed energy so violently overwhelming that his sight becomes entirely irrelevant. it devours his very being.

everything becomes a blur.

— i’ll give you everything.

so, in exchange…

give me enough cursed energy to go on a good rampage.

the cursed energy within him spikes, so sudden and violent that gojo fears his skin might break open. buzzing like flies inside his veins, a vibrant burst of life, every colour in the universe. all the power one can expect from willingly casting away the greatest jewel of the jujutsu world.

gojo moves his fingers. he can feel them, finally — all limbs intact. positive cursed energy flows from his brain, no longer exhausted beyond comprehension. enough, more than enough to give him access to every possibility within his soul.

belatedly, he realizes that his sight isn’t the only thing that’s been weakened. the control he’s grown so used to having over his cursed energy is dwindling, and fast; that firm grip seems to have left with the six eyes, replaced by a set of shaky hands. gojo has experience, and for now, it’s enough. but he still has to concentrate to contain the nearly overwhelming flicker of his cursed energy, stinging his skin as if it can’t fully be contained by his body anymore. prickling his veins. it feels a little like trying to keep water from running through the gaps between your fingers.

and he feels naked, in a way, suddenly living without something that defines his very being. a little hollowed out. a little wrong, like someone reached a hand through his ribs and pulled out his heart.

but damn, does it feel good.

his cursed energy output is all-encompassing. his mind feels more clear than he ever remembers it being, and it’s like the world is at his fingertips. something similar to what he felt twelve years ago, but still so different.

it isn’t ascension, not even close. quite the opposite. but that feeling of freedom is still so abundant. it’s all he can see before him; endless possibilities.

twelve years ago, satoru gojo faced a certain man, and rose to the skies. he will never, ever forget it. that flicker of eternal solitude, the burst of overwhelming euphoria. that sense of everything being just right.

twelve years of living in the sky, and now his feet meet the ground, at last.

everything feels different. everything looks different. things won’t be the same, ever again — but maybe, suguru was right. maybe that’s not such an awful thing.

to be reborn. to be given a choice.

gojo opens his eyes, and finally takes in all the sights before him. everything happens in a blur, so fast he can barely catch up — his body acts before his mind, and suddenly he’s face to face with sukuna.

not megumi, but sukuna. fully incarnated.

and he looks displeased. almost frustrated.

”how?”

the look of pure shock on his face is more satisfying than gojo could ever put into words; the satisfaction of seeing a king fall to his knees.

somewhere in the background, he thinks he hears a cacophony of voices, awfully familiar in a way that has warmth blooming in his chest. the students, he assumes — voices of shock, and something he tentatively recognizes as relief. but he doesn’t have the time to let his guard down, just yet.

(no matter how much he’d like to look back at them and give them a self-assured peace sign, bask in their smiling faces.)

instead, he answers sukuna. ”a binding vow,” he grins, and he thinks he must look a little manic, gesturing towards his eyes with his thumb. ”gave these puppies away. didn’t expect that, did’ya?”

sukuna looks at him, for a second.

then he laughs, loud and ugly, grotesque. taunting. he looks at gojo with something that almost resembles pity, something bordering on disappointment.

”pathetic,” he spits, all teeth. ”what good is living if it’s not at the top?”

gojo simply smiles.

he recalls that one question. eleven years ago, somewhere close to the ruins of the very street he’s standing in now. the question that flipped his entire world upside down.

(are you the strongest because you’re satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you’re the strongest?)

a grin breaks out across his lips. his cursed energy pulsates inside his veins, eager to be let loose, and he takes on a fighting stance. parting his lips to speak, unsure of whose question he’s answering.

”well, we’re about to find out.”

the sky is gray. even so, all he can see is that familiar shade of blue, as clear as ever. even without the six eyes.

gojo smiles.

just keep watching, suguru.

this time, i definitely won’t lose.

#and yea im sorry i didnt tell u before but i am in fact in the writers room rn…… making sure akutami behaves #this will happen chapter 240 pls look forward to it🙏🙏🙏(<- delusional)

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rudesheep · 6 years ago

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i hate that i have to look over some peoples (one actually) political views and avoid politics with them to remain friends...

#im like... at least hes not right wing...#hes gotten more insufferable than last year i hate this #like hes one of my best friends in uni but yesterday i was like 'i wont hang out tonight if he comes'#because we had gotten into a little argument earlier and i really cant handle anymore #and he acted so childish and gross as well #okay let me rant ok lmao #he denies genocide to some extend to start with #but i want to believe hes like... educating himself slowly and willing to listen #but hes one of the people hdp=terrorists and chp is the greatest and atatürk is an uh 'ilah' almost #and we had an argument because some street singers were singing in kurdish and they had awful voices so he said smrh like #'ugh this is terrible. its so bad.' and i replied. believing he was referring to their voices 'yeah their voices are so (kulak tirmalayici)'#and he continued 'they shouldnt sing in kurdish. we are in turkey. and (ülkemizi turistlere yanlış tanıtıyorlar)'#and uh. tf?? and i really didnt want to argue bc we met after so long #but we argued a bit and i still get annoyed thinkinh about it anyway #so its getting tiring to hang out with him and i dont want to tolerate him anymore #but then again. we get along quite well as long as we dont come across anything political (lmao)#and he has all the gossips #but also i think his new bf is even worse than him political view wise bc he said he doesnt want us to be mean to him lmao and i cant handle #rudetalks

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cyndilovesprongsie · 2 years ago

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heyyy! can i request some sort of detective/criminal au smut with remus and fem reader where shes the detective and remus’ the criminal?? i think that seeing sub!remus like that at reader’s mercy would make me go 😵‍💫

I fucking accidently deleted the whole thing i want to kms

@i-cant-stfu

ITS BEEN A MONTH IM SO SO SORRY I JUST FORGOT I HAD THIS????????? I LOVE YOU PLEASE DONT DISOWN ME

“Let me ask you again mr Lupin. Why were you caught on Cherry avenue selling illegal drugs?”

You glare at Remus, slamming your hands down on the table. He played with his paper cup, paying no attention to you whatsoever. You glare at him, grabbing the paper cup and throwing it across the room, storming over to the other side of the table, glaring down at him

“You listen to me and you listen good Remus. I do not have time for your shit today. Now answer. My fucking. Question.”

You repeat, grabbing his chin hard to make sure he continued to look up at you. His eyes scanned your face, gulping as he went a little red, slowly shaking his head

“I- I don’t- needed some extra money”

He whispered, shifting in his seat. You shake your head and drop his face, sitting on the side of the table

“Extra money hm? You ever heard about getting a job? Maybe that would solve your problems”

You glare, raising an eyebrow. He just stared at you, half lidded and pink cheeked. You tilt your head and smirk softly, taking his chin in your fingers again

“Hey…if you do as your told and listen to me…”

you lean down to whisper in his ear

“I’ll make sure to get you out of this little mess you’ve got ya self into”

You grin as he nods quickly at you, eyes filled with hope and some nervous aspects

“A-anything..”

Remus whispers, leaning into your hand slowly before you take it away, earning a small whine from Remus. You laugh softly at his needyness, pouting softly as you run your hands through his curls before sighing

“Well then Remus; get to work”

You smirk softly, still sitting on the table. He gulps, nodding as he shoots up from the chair and undos his belt, his breathing frantic as he watches you slowly undo your own pants. Fuck. Maybe he should get caught more often. He pushed those thoughts away and kicked his pants off, pushing them to the side along with your own. You gulp as you look at remus’ rock hard length. Fuck. He was huge. He slowly takes your hips and brings himself closer to you; taking a few seconds before slowly pushing himself inside of you. You let out a soft squeal as you grab his arms, head falling onto his shoulder before groaning

“Okay Remus, move”

You instruct, slowly letting your hands trail to his waist, watching him practically crumble in your hands. Remus let out a soft groan before bucking his hips up as he held onto your hips tightly making you moan into his shoulder “fuck Remus- don’t stop..” you whisper “you’re doing so good” your lips graze his ear, your hips working in soft circles

Remus leaned back in the chair, whimpering as he looked up at you, half lidded still, catching his breath. You had pushed him past the breaking point…but you knew he was loving every second of it. After he had come back to reality with some water. You told him he was free to go. Sure if anyone found out about this you’d be fired but…eh?

Remus pulled on his jacket, rosy cheeked as he looked at you; frowning softly “are..we allowed to see each-other?” He pouted, playing with his sleeves. You smile softly; kissing his cheek “of course we are! I’ll call you yeah? Pick up where we left off?” You smirk, winking at him before pulling him into a kiss. Which was quite difficult because he was significantly taller than you…but it was worth it

I forgot how DISGUSTING my writing is

Once again apologises if this doesn’t correlate to what you wanted, I do try I promise. I luv u and thank u for this awesome request please don’t hate me for not doing it in so long ☹️☹️

- cyndi 🤍

#james potter #remus lupin #sub james potter #sirius black #marauders #sirus black #sub!james potter #requests #sub remus lupin #cyndi is better than you 💕#cyndi loves her followers #cyndi loves james potter

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willowwhispersspeakeasy · 3 years ago

Note

Heyya I hope that I can request. Can I ask for another "twst boys force you to drink a potion with a kiss" but with Scarabia & Ignihyde (Idia only lol)

it seems we have a new fan favorite~ its quite a daring trope. I've mostly seen it accompanied by a yandere theme... perhaps we should start offering that as well hmm.... -Onyx, the bartender

twst! they force you to drink a potion w/ a kiss

characters: Scarabia, Idia Shroud

warnings: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption and intoxication, non con kissing, drugging, yandere behavior, some implied adult content for Idia

Kalim

this is something he would absolutely do if intoxicated. usually he'd be vary careful about feeding you anything without your knowledge, but when his minds already cloudy he thinks its romantic.

you were of course, invited to Kalim's 18th birthday party. and seeing as it was such an important year, it was particularly extravagant.

you'd spent your first hour there being introduced to his many siblings, each very polite and curious to meet their eldest brother's partner. and Kalim was eager to show you off.

he practically had you tied to his hip and he bustled around his family's home, saying hellos to everyone he saw. giggling you followed along, curious to try all manor of wonderful food you'd never seen before.

it was a dazzling experience, and after a few to many glasses of wine, Kalim was curled up against your shoulder. you couldn't say you were surprised to see he was a happy drunk, giggling in your ear as he held you close.

"baby you have to try this, its so sweet!" he cooed, pointing to his glass.

"hm, I think you've had plenty to drink. lets get you some water." you tried to remove the cup from his hand but the young man let out a long whine.

"wait wait, just one more sip then I'll stop." you signed, but decided against fighting him. Kalim took a sip of his wine, before cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss.

a variety of whistles and shouts were heard from the guests as Kalim stroked your cheek. he was right the wine was sweet, like sour grapes and sun scorched vineyards. the flavor danced on his tongue as he stroked yours playfully.

you finally pulled away, face and lips pink. Kalim cooed, praising how cute your embarrassed face was.

Jamil

I dont really see him doing this under most circumstances. he has other ways to get you to drink something if needed. so the scenario below is a yandere!Jamil one.

your skin burned hot, the air hung heavy in your lungs, sticky like honey. you puffed, reaching a shaking had to wipe the sweat from your brow. your throat was dry and your eyes stung.

attempting to stir you noted the thin blanket placed over you, and the soft bed you lay upon. you could not bring yourself to open your eyes, even as you felt a hand stroking your cheek.

"dont fight it, just relax." a far away purr of a mans voice seeped into your mind. you tried to pull yourself out of your daze, but your body was sluggish and lethargic.

"here, drink this." while your throat burned dry you kept your lips sealed. there was an itching suspicion that if you drank what he offered you may not awake again.

a sigh was heard from the young man. gentle hands on your scalp as the bed shifted, letting you guess he had come to rest beside you.

"stubborn, but I guess I can't blame you." he spoke, breath warm against your ear. his lips were soft against the shell of your ear, slowly moving down to your neck.

when he pulled away you found yourself missing the warmth of his body. the soft hum of his voice against your skin. gentle hands cupped your cheek, turning your head to face his side.

then more warm breath, this time across your lips, before his plush ones met yours. a small sigh for contentment escaped you, allowing him the space to slide his tongue into your mouth, and the potion an entrance in.

you tried to pull away at the bitter substance but he held your head firmly in place. you whined against his lips, and he kissed you harder. his mouth became hungry and he stroked the inside of your mouth.

he pulled away after you'd relented and swallowed the substance.

"good pet, now relax." was the last you heard before sleep claimed you once more.

Idia

another one I dont see doing this. he doesn't have the confidence nor reason to do so. hes more likely to force you to drink something physically if it came down to it.

he whined into your open mouth, chasing your lips as you pulled away. you chuckled, looking down at the young man pinned beneath you.

"you're cute like this." you commented.

"hey! c-cute!" his hair sparked pink to match his cheeks.

"yes, so cute. my cute boy~" you whispered, painting your tongue back to his jaw and down his neck. more whimpers and slight struggled from him followed. "you sound so pretty like this."

he whined loud and long as you pinned his wrists down. letting out a gasp as you nipped at his neck.

"h-hold on a sec," you paused, looking up at your lover to make sure he was alright. as you lowered your guard you were promptly rolled onto your back. his hands around your wrists replacing yours.

"hey!" you struggled in slight protest, but he just leaned over you. pointed grin gazing down at you.

"who's cute now?" he smirked. Idia held your wrists with one hand as he reached over to his side table, removing a vial you had helped him procure earlier that day.

he had been quite shy upon learning what this particular potion was used for, but he'd come around to the idea quickly. especially when you offered to be the one to drink it.

you watched him remove the stopper, expecting him to hand it to you or perhaps pour it into your mouth. however instead he slipped the liquid into his own mouth instead.

he quickly darted down to meet your lips, letting the sweet potion slip from his mouth to yours. tugging your wrists free from his hold you wrapped your arms around him. he moaned against you as you tugged gently on his flaming hair, tongue stroking his.

by the time the pair of you pulled away you were panting from more then just the kisses.

#twst wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst x mc #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #jamil viper #twst jamil #jamil x reader #gender neutral reader #idia shroud #twst idia #idia shroud x reader #kalim x reader #twst kalim #kalim al asim

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mp100fanworkstranslation · 2 years ago

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He too, is an evil spirit PART 2

PART I Here

Tome: Thanks for coming with me to pick up my stuff Ekubo-chan. Ekubo: Heh Youre a student. How could you forget your homework? Tome: Hehe -They round the corner and there’s sounds of arguing- Tome: Huh? Ekubo: Huh? Voice: You made me feel so good after. Reigen: Well thats really…. Voice: I wanted to ask for your help again, and I never thought I’d run into you here. It’s too much of a coincidence. It must be….

Ekubo: What are they doing? Who is that? Man: You saved me! It was all your doing. Reigen: Im glad to hear that. Man: I’d love to have you over so I can properly thank you. Please come to my place. It’s very close to here. Reigen: Oh you dont have to thank me. It’s my job. I couldnt possibly accept.

man: It’s really very close! Reigen: I’m so sorry, today is a bit inconvienent. Ekubo: Why is it this guy (Reigen) who’s run across an unsavor character? Tome: What a needy client... Man: Surely, you’ll accept, right Master Reigen? I’d love a personal massage from you. Reigen: I’m sorry, Curse removal house calls are not part of the service package that we offer.

Tome: Ugh gross Tome thinks: Oh

Ekubo: Hey Reigen Got Trouble? Reigen: Ekubo

Reigen: Oh no, He was just on his way home, right? Man: Um well... uh.... yeah,... sure. I’ll see you around then.

Reigen: Ow! The hell are you doing?!

Ekubo: He transferred his obsession... things like this arent worth eating. He grabs it and it pops.

Reigen:? Ah, Tome, did you pick up your things? Tome: Ive got everything, Thank you Mr. Reigen. Reigen: As you just witnessed, there’s dangerous stuff out here. It’s best you head straight home. Tome: Okay

Ekubo: That situation didnt look good... and why are you come along? Reigen: I wrapped up earlier than expected. Why don’t you go return your body and I’ll take Tome home. Ekubo: So then... who’s taking you home. Reigen: What? Ekubo: um Ekubo thinks: Shit.... Reigen: Hey... You....uh... Ekubo: Apologies, I did not mean to imply you were an idiot or anything Reigen: Sounds like you did. And how long were you going to hold on to that body anyway. Look, I appreciate the concern, but enough is enough. You can’t keep doing this. Ekubo: I’m aware

Reigen: If youre aware, why don’t you get going? Ekubo: This guy works the night shift today, so it’s not problem if he sleeps later. Reigen: I know but...

Tome: So then... this too is a form of favortism is it not?

Tome: Ekubo-chan is an evil spirit, so he shows a kind of favortism for certain people. Ekubo:................ Reigen: Um...Wha.... Tome: He said so earlier. Tome: Isnt that an odd thing to say? He said it was because he’s an evil spirit. | Reigen:..... Ekubo: Having favoritism for specific people is something that humans have too, you know.

(Note: I’m not sure if theres a better word for this, but the term that’s being used is Favoritism + Preferential Treatment. Ie. treating someone better than other people, because you like them. Like a positive bias thing.)

Reigen: Tomechan, we’ve.... lets leave it at that. Tome: Huh?

-Narration- I don’t quite understand how these two relate to each other . If I had to describe it, theyre like bastard friends that still for some reason trust one another.

-Narration- Bastard friend (This is kind of hard to describe, but it’s a bad friend that brings out the worst in you.) Friend Employee It doesn’t really matter what you call it. What ever it you call it, it ought to be preceded by the phrase “An Important” Whether it’s giving importance to the other... or for you yourseld to be regarded held up as important.....they seem happier around each other because for it. It’s like the calming glow of single bulb at the dark core of them both.

Tome: So then.... one would give preferential treatment to someone they’d assigned a special importance to. I guess an evil spirit would think in that manner. Reigen: Please kill me Tome: Evil spirits are so difficult to analyze... Ekubo: I’m being analyzed?

-Narration- The evil spirit will be back at the consultation office tomorrow. Because he has a kind of affinity towards the boss

-Narration- No one is asking him to come, and he has not obligation to be there. He does so out of a kind of favoritism, bringing a kind of caring of his own accord. Tome: Ah....So....do you know what he smells like? -Narration- I guess this is fine Reigen:You mean Ekubo? How would I know? Ekubo is sniffing his sleeve: Cigarettes. This guy smells like cigarettes, Im pretty sure.

-Narration- As for reason? It’s because he’s an evil spirit. (Note: Im not sure who is speaking below:) Reigen: Can I take a whiff?

Ekubo: Wha..This idea that people have their own unique smells to people isn’t a thing. This is ridiculous,

Tome: Guys?

Reigen: I feel like he’d should smell like cucumbers

Tome: Hey Guys? GUYS!

#mp100 #ekurei #ekubo #Reigen #tome

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Chaos Magnet

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None :)

Genre: FLUFF, HUMOR, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When Y/N get invited onto a stream with the gang by Jack (Sean) she’s not sure what to expect but it’s safe to say that such chaos is not something she could’ve ever imagined.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it really had me laughing and still had me be awe-struck by the adorableness of the idea. Sorry it’s been such a long time since you put in the request but I still hope you come across the fic and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Alright people, silence in the call for a moment!“ Jack calls out when the lobby’s counter has finally reached up to nine, leaving room for one more person who is yet to join, but apparently he doesn’t care much that he’ll probably have to repeat himself when the tenth person enters the call and lobby.

“Jack, you should know by now, the day there’s silence in this call is when some supernatural force murders all ten of our mics. It just won’t happen, deal with it.“ Charlie, who was having an ‘intense’ discussion with Toast up until Jack’s interruption, says sarcastically, chuckling ever so slightly, enough for it to be contagious and make me crack a smile as well.

“There won’t be silence, I’ll be talking. If only the rest of you would LET ME.“ Jack replies just as sarcastically, getting Charlie to let out an actual fit of laughter. When his chuckling subsides along with the rest of the chatter in the call, Jack finally gets to have the speech he mentioned, “Right, ok so here’s the deal folks: today we have a guest addition to the stream, curtesy of mine because I’m obsessed with her channel. As you might or might not have noticed, there’s one person missing from the lobby but she’s gonna be joining us any minute now. As I said, I’m a huge fan so you better not embarrass me or I swear I’m gonna kill you first when I get to be an impostor.”

I don’t know what the others are thinking - probably something similar as what I’m thinking though: Noted, embarrass Jack to the best of your ability. Trust me, getting him flustered in front of his YouTube idol is well worth the death in Among Us he’s threatening us with.

“Also keep in mind that she’s of a different kind, not of our breed if you will - she’s an ASMR YouTuber. Not those who eat in the mic just because they think it’d be pleasant for people to hear.“ Jack goes on to explain, the way he’s described this girl’s craft is quite intriguing, especially when you consider how confidently Jack expressed his distaste with ASMR in the past. He’s always claimed not to be a fan but here we are, I guess people really do change.

“Thank you for making it seem like I do more than just cut up soaps, Jack. I really appreciate it but don’t bump the bar up that high, people will be disappointed when they actually visit my channel.“ An unfamiliar voice appears in the call out of nowhere. Though, unfamiliar is not the adjective I should focus on when describing this girl’s voice. I’ll list a few more but even they won’t do it justice: pleasant, awing, mesmerizing, unbelievable, out-of-this-world...I really could keep going.

“Oh come on, Y/N, you don’t just cut up soap. You turn them into bath bombs too!“ Jack laughs, earning him a playful scoff from the newcomer. “Oh yeah, almost forgot - Everyone, this is Y/N, our ASMR artist.“

“Please, some ‘artist’ I am. The people in my comment section would disagree with that description.“ She giggles after kindly responding to each and every greeting the gang sends her way, myself included. “The word I’ve seen people use most when describing my channel is ‘cringey’ so....yeah.“ She laughs, a genuine laugh instead of the bitter one I was expecting to follow such words.

“That seems to be the cool kids’ favorite word, don’t dwell too much on it.“ Rae tells her reassuringly, “What’s important is what word would you use to describe your channel?“

Y/N hums, sounding as though she’s fallen in thought but that’s only one brief moment before she answers. Or begins to, at least, “Well, if I were to describe my channel with one word it’d be....BEEFY!”

That one out-of-context word, screamed out by such an angelic voice has me breaking down with overwhelming laughter collapsing all my ability to hold back.

“Out of all the words, you’d choose beefy?“ I somehow manage to ask between fits of laughter that render me breathless.

“She’s a vegetarian, I think, I don’t know why she’d choose that word.“ Jack too is laughing his butt off but has a significantly better grip on it, “Y/N, care to explain your peculiar choice?“

There’s a lot of shuffling and random noise on Y/N’s end before her reply finally comes, accompanied by a weak meow, “Sorry guys, that was a classic cat of Mr. Beef Stronganoff seeking attention by being chaotic.” She says through laughter, her words followed by another meow which was a lot more clear, seemingly closer to the mic, “He took down my mic, and he seems like he wants to do it again....BEEFY NO!”

For some reason, even with that explanation in mind, I can’t keep myself from laughing. Come to think of it, I think the explanation only makes it funnier.

“Ugh, darn it! I saved my mic but he ran across my keyboard and turned my webcam off how do I turn it back on?“ Her voice dies down for a few secs before it reemerges from her end, “Ok nevermind I got it. Now I can answer...what was the question again?“

Recovering from his laughing fit, Jack manages to repeat the question, “What word would you use to describe your channel?”

“Oh that! Right, ok. Um, I’d call it aesthetically pleasing and BEEFY NOT THE ROUTER CABLE YOU DUMMIE!“

She’s insane. Or her cat’s insane. I can’t tell. Maybe both. Either way, I can’t help but feel like I’ve found a soulmate in this literal stranger. It’s safe to say us chaos magnets like her and I, we don’t only attract chaos, but also chaotic individuals. I’m so glad she magnetized me to herself. Or was it the other way around? We may never know - mystery is in the nature of us chaos magnets, you know.

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twodimecastle · 3 years ago

Text

fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #my writing #spencer reid fluff

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technowoah · 4 years ago

Note

i just really want jack manifold fluff if you’re taking requests like the reader joins jack for laugh and the stream ends idk you can do what you feel is best :]

Free Content Darling

Jack manifold my beloved ♥

Im so behind on requests yall forgive me 😪

Literally sorry in advance-

Jack Manifold x gen neutral! reader (established) blurb imagine

⚠︎ slight swearing, petnames, and a lot of fluff, a little bit of writers block from me :( I didn't proofread LMAONSK HELP-

Masterlist

"Darling! C'mere!" You heard Jack yell from his recording room. You were currently curled up on the couch scrolling through twitter. The trending page had "JACK" and "TRY NOT TO LAUGH" on the top. The tweets under the trending topics was filled with comments about Jack's stream and other streams happening.

You had heard him laughing and yelling in his recording room before. To be completely honest you dont know why he invited you over his house in the first place. You showed up at his house wanting to just relax and have a fun time with Jack, but after a couple minutes he had told you he had a stream already scheduled today and left to you to your own devices.

Thats how ended up on the couch looking at tweets that talked about your boyfriends stream.

You lazily rolled off the couch and onto your feet. You had the fluffy socks Jack had gotton you as a small gift. You both ended up getting the same socks and slipped around the house because of the hardwood floor. It was a fun activity until you were both mimicking ballroom dancing untill you both slipped and fell on the hardwood floor. It was a small moment but then after you both were more careful around his house.

Opening the door to his recording office you peaked your head inside now knowing if he wanted you completely inside or just wanted to quickly tell you something. The door was in frame when he streams so you couldn't be discreet.

"Hey-"

"Hey! Y/N! Guys it's Y/N!" Jack exclaimed showing you off to the stream. "Come over here love." He waved you over while rolling his identical gaming chair for you to sit on.

You smiled and made your way over to sit beside him in the broken chair.

"Why'd you give me the broken chair this time?" You smiled as you questioned him.

"I mean they are identical, no one would've noticed."

"We'll you told everyone who sat in it that it was broken." You said matter of factly.

"Do you want to sit in this one?" Jack asked pointing to the chair underneath him.

"Yeah I do." You said while putting your hands together in a prayer position. "You wanna switch with me?"

"No, not really Im quite comfortable in my own chair love." Jack said with a smirk leaning back in his chair.

"You sure?"

"Yeah pretty much." Jack's smile widened as he saw your frustration grow.

"Dickhead." You said under your breath.

Jack started to laugh. "What did you say?" He swiveled his chair to face you.

"Nothing. You're hearing things." You smirked.

Meanwhile the chat was freaking out about your interactions. You werent a stranger to Jack's fanbase. A year ago you were just Jack's roommate, but then he slowly introduced you as his significant other. He started flirting with you on stream and on twitter, then after a couple months of that he titled a stream "MEET MY S/O!!!". It was weird for you to be on stream for the first time, but you became accustomed to it.

"What did you want me to do again?" You asked. Jack probably forgot the reason he called you in there in the first place.

"Oh yeah! I wanted to do a stream with you! A you laugh the stream ends type thing. Also the chat was asking for you, they missed you apparently."

"Oh of course they did, I think they love me more than you."

"Yeah I think so! And its not right!" Jack exclaimed and you laughed along with him.

"I think we already lost the challenge, cause we've been laughing for a while haven't we?" You brought up.

"Well the challenge hasn't started. And if we laugh you have to get bonked in the bead with this pillow." Jack had gotton up and walked around the room searching for something to become a punishment. "We have 3 lives each and if we use up all of our lives the stream ends."

"And I have you all to myself?" You asked slightly serious. You still were irked because of tbe fact he invited you over and left you, I mean you are here now next to him, but you wanted time without a camera and monitors in your face.

"Yeah love, of course. But you have to laugh!" Jack exclaimed.

Thinking about the situation, you wanted to laugh and lose all your lives on purpose so you two could have alone time together.

"Fine let's go!"

"Alright then!"

"You suck at this game dont ya?" Jack laughed as mutiple short videos from fans kept popping up on the screen. "You have one more life and I only have two."

It was 30 minutes into the stream and youve been hit with the pillow on Jack's lap more times than you could count, at least that what it felt like. You were on your last life and actually trying to stay in the game after realizing how much fun this was. Maybe you were being selfish, because you were right next to him doing things that you two were going to do alone.

"You have no sense of humor babe." You replied back.

"I do have a sense of humor! I could say my sense of humor is broken even."

"Well mine is too when we compare how many lives we have left."

"Good point."

"YOU LAUGHED!" You stood up confronting him trying to pry the pillow out of his hands to hit him with.

"NO! I did not! Let go!" Jack said still sitting down struggling to keep a good grip on the pillow. You successfully took the pillow out of his hands and started repeatedly hitting him with it as he tried to shield himself.

"Augh! Stop!"

"He laughed! He laughed, you guys saw that right?" You bent down into frame reading the chat while they spammed "YES" and "HIT HIM"

"See, they agree with me Manifold." You said confidently.

"They're just want to see me lose. I'm too powerful." He shrugged.

"Anways! 1 to 1! Loser!" You hit him with the pillow again.

"Stop!"

The stream continued on and the both of you were begging eachother to keep your one lives that you both had left. Everytime you snickered a bit Jack would catch it and vice versa. The stream went on longer than Jack planned, but it seemed like he was having fun. Finally after an hour of streaming and bickering between you both You ended up laughing at this stupid vine from long ago.

"YOU LAUGHED I WON!" Jack threw his hands up in victory. "Holy shit we can end the stream, this took forever."

"You wanna end the stream?" You asked after calming down.

"Well we could just chill and talk to chat, but I would've thought you wanted to chill without.." Jack gestured to the monitors on his stream. "All that."

"How'd you know I wanted to do that?" You asked with a small smile.

Jack shrugged. "Well I kind of left you here in my flat and went to go stream for a while. That was a dick move."

"Well thats what I wanted at first but then you called me in here. I was trying to get all of my lives down, but then I realized how much fun I was having." You explained. For a second you forgot that he was still live until you saw flashing text across a screen out of the corner of your eye.

"It was selfish of me-"

"It wasnt selfish bub! I feel that was valid, but you could've told me." Jack said reassuringly grabbing your hand.

"It was fun though! I wouldn't have it any other way Manifold." You smiled at him and he smiled back.

"Me either."

Jack ended up ending his stream and both of you said your goodbyes to the people watching his stream. He closed everything off of his computer and leaned back in his chair immediately relaxing when the camera was turned off.

"Thanks for inviting me Manifold." You said as he got up to put the pillow back in it's place.

"Of course love." He pressed a kiss to your forehead as we walked away for a second.

"Hey! Why did you invite me anyways?" You asked.

He walked back over to where you were standing and pecked your lips and winked at you. "Free content darling."

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bcdwhcre · 4 years ago

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hiii hope your having an amazing day :) do you make headcanons? if you do and if you don't mind can i request headcanons for Izuku, Bakugo, and Denki about being in a secret relationship (i really love your stories about characters being in a secret relationship) and them accidentally outing their relationship because something happened (you can choose what happened) thank you so much!! also if you dont do headcanons you can choose one from the three on the imagine ❤️ I'm sorry if this is confusing 😅

“Secret Relationships,” Midoriya, Bakugou and Denki headcanon

YES IM GLAD YOU REQUESTED THIS UGH, I gotta do my sweet baby Bakugou first🥺

Summary: having a secret relationship with one of the guys and it’s get leaked.

Each section would probably be a little short, I apologize in advance🥺

Warnings: none!

Bakugou:

The relationship between you and Bakugou was always strange but once the students had to move on campus in the dorms, it turned into a whole different story.

The secret meetups late at night in his room, turned into nothing more than a secret relationship. The way your sleep schedule was beyond screwed up from being up late in his room and having to wake up early to go back to your room before anyone noticed.

It had been going on for months so by now you were used to the secrets and sneaking around along with barely having any sleep the next day while in class.

The more the relationship progressed, the more Bakugou would steal quick glances at you and even when you were in the kitchen with the other students, he would purposely slide behind you and touching your back in the process.

One day in particular, the class had decided to have a game night and he wasn’t too thrilled about joining in. He had tried to convince you to come back to his room but you had told him it would make things obvious if only the two of you were absent.

He huffed, at this point he didn’t really care about the class nor their opinions on anything. He was a ball of fire afterall so when he saw you sitting with the class as they gathered up board games, he was over with keeping things a secret, he wanted it to be known that you were his and he wanted you upstairs in his room.

“I don’t wanna play this stupid game night.” Bakugou said in front of everyone but he was directing it towards you and you tried to ignore him.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to be here dude.” Kirishima patted his back, sitting down at the table and he huffed out a breath dramatically, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m not talking to any of you idiots.. Y/N.” He said your name sternly, like he was giving you a direct order by the look of his red eyes.

“Why are you so worried about Y/N being here with us?” One of the classmates mentioned and you had cursed under your breath, Bakugou was acting like a child.

“Because I want my girlfriend upstairs with me.” Bakugou angrily said, everyone growing quiet and you had gulped the lump in your throat, well there goes the secret.

Everyone’s eyes had landed on you and your cheeks turned a dark shade of red before you slide the chair back and stood up. You have never felt this embarasssed in your life, he could’ve done this any other time in a completely different way but of course the asshole had to make everything a big deal.

“No way,” Denki mumbled, trying to hold the laugh that was begging to come out.

You dismissed yourself, walking over to where Bakugou was and punched his arm as hard as you could, cursing under your breath and he smirked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders, winking back at the rest of the class.

“God, you’re so fucking embarrassing, Katsuki.” You muttered, following him to the elevator to go up and he tugged you closer.

“Oh shut up, you love it.”

As you two waited for the elevator, you couldn’t help the feel the classes eyes on the both of you. It was even more humiliating as you had to wait for the doors to slide open. You heard a few of them whisper about you two being a thing, some had mentioned how obvious it was and some mentioned had you two were complete opposites.

Bakugou obviously didn’t care, instead he liked to annoy everyone, especially you. So hearing people whisper about had fed onto the asshole ego he had, making his large hand grab your chin and give you a rough kiss on the lips in front of everyone.

The way your face was completely red at this point and all he did was give the classmates a evil grin before dragging you into the elevator and pushing the button for his floor.

“Why can’t you ever be casual?”

“Do you not know me? I’m far from casual.” He nudged you gently, laughing at your tomato red face and moved his thumb to brush across your cheek.

“Yeah, clearly.”

Denki:

You had a crush on Denki for what seemed like forever. Since the first moment you met him on the first day of school till now. It was pretty obvious how much you liked him. Eventually you became bold enough to ask him to hang out.

Now you two have been dating for only a few weeks, you both had agreed to keep it private to enjoy the privacy and the time alone before the classmates end up finding out.

Of course you knew Denki a little too well at this point, you knew he would end up slipping up the secret sooner or later but it didn’t entirely bother you that it’ll happen.

And you were right, after a training exercise and having to go through some obstacle course that Aizawa had set up, he had sparked a fuse and as his brain suffered a shortage, his mouth had instantly opened and talked about you.

You couldn’t help but be over protective when he did go through that shortage phase, quickly taking care of him and making sure he was comfortable was a habit you picked up.

“So pretty.” He muttered as he reached for you in front of everyone and you froze in your place until he had wrapped his arms around you, clinging onto your body.

Your cheeks flushed, grabbing onto his body and holding him up straight so he didn’t lose his balance. He continued to mutter words like how you’re so pretty and he even slipped up how he was lucky to have you.

“Aww, Denki is in love.” Sero had laughed at his state, making you roll your eyes and become more protective.

“Nothing wrong with that.” You admitted, stroking your fingers through his hair and dragged him over to sit down.

His head had rested on top of yours, his tall frame giving you a tight hug and you had choked on the air you were breathing on from how openly clingy he was acting in front of the entire class including Mr. Aizawa.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” Midoriya had teased, the smirk on his face made you grow embarrassed.

“No.”

“Yes, we are.” Denki cut you off, his arms still around yours and the goofy smile on his face only got bigger.

“Y/N is mine. Only mine, I don’t want to see- I don’t want to see any of you near... what’s mine.” He managed to stumble out, his face turning blank like he had forgotten what he was talking about.

“Jesus,” You laughed, putting your hand over his mouth, glancing at your classmates.

You stayed quiet, dragging him away from the rest of the class and forced him to drink some water and sit down on a chair to relax until he went back to his normal state.

You will admit that he was cute and the way he openly told everyone what was his, which was you, had made your heart flutter.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Denki.”

“Am I?”

Midoriya:

It had taken forever for Izuku to catch onto your hints on liking him and wanting to hang out with him more. Of course he was very oblivious and didn’t catch on for weeks, even months before you got frustrated and had been straight forward with him.

The both of you being completely shy balls made everything a lot more difficult, the hints he threw at you and the hints your threw at him had completely flew over both of your heads, it was quite ridiculous.

You knew Midoriya wasn’t going to make the first move, you knew he was too big of a anxiety nut to even be bold enough to tell you to your face that he likes you in ways that was more than friends. So you did it on your own.

It hadn’t even been a week of you two officially dating until Izuku slipped it up to Todoroki when ranting about how amazing you were and how much he loved watching your quirk in action.

Once he had revealed the secret, he had told Todoroki to keep his mouth shut and not talk about it again but later that day, Izuku slipped up to another one of your classmates, Ashido.

It wasn’t long until he had slipped up to the whole entire class and now everyone knew that you two were a fresh couple. The side comments the students would make to you both and embarrass the both you, making the shyness in you two grow and cause you to stutter to no end.

“I think you two are cute!” Ashido had mentioned, trying to assure you that it wasn’t a big deal that everyone already knew.

“You knew Midoriya can’t keep a secret for long.” She commented, making you laugh and agree to what she said.

You couldn’t blame him though, he was a little too excited to be dating his crush that he couldn’t help but talk about you constantly to all his friends. He couldn’t help but stare at you and want to talk about how pretty you are and the characteristics he liked most about you.

It was in his nature, he was proud and lucky that he just had that urge to tell the whole world about you and it made butterflies explode in your stomach and it also made you want to kiss him desperately but you decided to not do that in front of everyone.

“I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want to tell anyone right away.” He mumbled towards you, the look of guilt washing over his features and you shook your head, embracing him in a tight hug.

“Don’t be sorry! I’m glad you told people.”

ANNND finished, I’m sorry it’s short. I usually go longer when it’s one character at a time but I hope it’s good🤧

PLSSSS send in more my hero requests!! I’m obsessed

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