#pretty much everything about geto has already been said but whatever I’m thinking thoughts

[lavenderjewels]

I love how self destructive geto is, whether or not he conscious of it. reassuring himself that he’s fine over gojo being sent on missions while he’s alone, lying about being okay and losing weight to gojo, that bit in the fan book about repeatedly affirming his genocidal ideals to himself every day until his personality morphs into what we see before his death. then everything with his plans in jjk 0. the whole ‘choosing his way of life and giving it his all’ really dictated everything he did after hidden inventory and eventually led to his inevitable death. it’s even more fascinating after seeing his potential that kenjaku brought out after possessing his body. that descent into villainy felt so preventable— it’s sad when understanding how everything in his personal life and jujutsu society affected geto to this degree, and frustrating to see him pushing those twisted ideals and destruction until the very end

[gojoscloset]

“Hey! Are your requests still open? If not , feel free to ignore this one!I read your last geto angst , and I just loved it .Could you do a Geto X reader where reader killed herself because she couldn't bear being a sorcerer? And maybe the effect this has on Geto?

Again , feel free to ignore this, but if you end up doing it , then thank you!

- JuJu”

Requested Geto Suguru x reader angst!

Warnings: pure angst no fluff ! Mentions/implications of reader suicide! Grieving, nothing but sad stuff man! Also not proof read, literally did this at work

Ily thank you for requesting bby! Also readers! Please read notes at the end because I have questions on how tumblr works LOL please send help

“We’re thinking about going out for dango and maybe karaoke afterwards, wanna come?”

“Nah, I think I’m going to sit this one out”

“….you shouldn’t just lock yourself away in your room All the time. It’s not good for you, you know !!” Shoko waved a finger in a stern yet playful manner. Geto let out a breathy chuckle, a small smile following after, however the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Shoko noticed the unauthentic smile but said nothing as she didn’t want to pry, there was no need to. She already knew the reasons why Suguru would hide away in his room, they all knew.

“Yeah I know I know. But I've been really tired lately, you know I don’t do well in the heat.” He tugged at his collar in attempts to cool himself off.

“Well you’re more than welcome to join us if you change your mind!” Shoko playfully slapped him on his shoulder as she walked by “and respond to the group chat from time to time dummy, we miss you!” She gave him a knowing smile and was out the door in a flash seeming to be in a rush, Suguru simply waved and watched her figure flash out the entrance.

A warm breeze blew through the open window and into the now empty classroom. Geto stared out the window and listened as the cicadas' song rang around him, filling in the silence of the vacant room.

It was his first summer without you.

The first summer since your suicide.

Everyone took your death pretty hard, but it hit Suguru the hardest. It was evident to everyone that the dynamic the two of you had was a strong one, a special one, nearly as attached to the hip like Satoru. Whenever it wasn’t Satoru and Suguru it was Suguru and y/n. Whatever free time he had away from his best friend he would gladly give to you, no questions asked.

You brought out a softness in him that he thought he lost long ago, you were the sun that made him glow like the moon.Your kind demeanor and attitude was refreshing not only for him but for everyone you graced with your presence. You, unlike many others, still had life in your eyes and had faith in humanity. Despite the things life threw at you, including hurling you into the sorcerer lifestyle, you believed that things would change for the better eventually. Many called it Naivety. But you called it hope.

You could only imagine how much of a shock it was to everyone once they found out about your fate. It was very hard to believe that someone like you would do that to yourself, so much so Suguru refused to believe it was suicide and wanted to further investigate the situation. In his mind there was no way someone like you, the literal sun, would have suicidal ideologies.

But everything lined up, letters you left behind for certain friends and family members spoke of things only you would know.

Suguru experienced many deaths and losses but he was absolutely blindsided and crushed by yours.

Another gust of wind snapped him out of his trance. He walked to the window, closing it gently and locking it up before moving back to where he was seated. He looked around the classroom, bright orange rays of light seeped in and adorned the room.

“Golden hour” he whispered to himself

-

“Hell yeah it’s golden hour! Take a selfie with me!”

You flipped open your phone, going straight for the camera. You fixed your hair in the reflection of the screen before flipping it around and huddling closer to Suguru.

“What the hell is golden hour?” He looked into the camera as you took the photo, trying his best to comply with your wishes. The camera snapped and you flipped the phone around, immediately a face of disappointment replaced your happier one.

“ this would’ve been a cute picture if you didn’t look like that! Tch…men” You pointed at the photo, his face looked uninterested and confused. He leaned in to take a better look at the photo. You playfully glared at him the whole time he examined the selfie.

“What do you mean? that’s just my face”

You burst into laughter and shove him away.

“Shut up! You’re much cuter than.. that!” You flashed him the photo again and pointed at his side of the photo

“And golden hour dummy! You know, when the sun sets and everything is orangey and golden, hence the name golden hour. It makes your photos look really good…well… sometimes” You both laugh at the playful jab.

—

Suguru chuckled quietly to himself and looked at your old desk, tucked away in the corner of the classroom, still embellished with beautiful bows and wilted flowers that no one dared to throw away. Paper cranes from your best friends with lipstick stains scattered on the seat, blessings and goodbyes scribbled on the desk itself. No one believed in vandalizing school property but for you there was an exception.

He grabbed his items and quietly left the vicinity, which was something he dreaded the most because everything in the outside world brought him back to you, but nothing was the same. Golden hour wasn’t as bright and warm, the songs the birds sang seemed out of tune, ice cream didn’t taste sweet anymore even if it came in your favorite flavor.

Suguru wondered a lot about how things could have been different. Naturally as one of your best friends he took part of the blame, beating himself up for not being able to read the signs ahead of time. He wished he could have been more attentive when you complained about the lifestyle, or when you would go quiet after missions. The little things he didn’t pick up until after it was too late weighed him down like a pile of bricks were attached to his back. He stayed up night after night, losing sleep and even losing weight over the guilt and stress of not having you there with him.

On his worst nights he thought about meeting you sooner than expected. He always told himself it was in theory because he ‘would never actually do it’ but the thought was enticing on the harder days.

Today being one of them. But Suguru couldn’t do it, because that’s not what you would want. He knew you would want him to go out and live life happily like you once did, seeing the world through a colorful Lens, so he attempted to from time to time.

“What dango place are you guys at again?”

He texted the group chat and almost immediately was bombarded with responses from his companions who have not heard from him in what seemed like months.

Suguru placed a hand on your desk, careful not to smear or smudge any of the writing your loved ones left for you. “Remember when you said time heals all wounds?” He began speaking to you in hopes you could feel him and his energy wherever you were. I sadly don’t think that’s true. I miss you and golden hour isn’t the same nor as pretty without you. But I’m sure I’ll see you again soon” he smiled and gently tapped the desk with his knuckle as if to say goodbye

He made his way to the door and he swears sometimes before he leaves he could feel you in the room with him, even if it’s just for a few seconds.

Hope you liked it love thank you for requesting! Sorry it’s short, stuff like this makes me v v v sad LOL ❤️

Requests are currently closed because I want to push out a bunch of drabbles my brain has been thinking about lmaooo

Also question:

Was looking through my ooooold tumblr, terrible idea by the way and I noticed I got shadow banned really early into that account, what the heck did I do? Lol

Are there tips not to get SB ? What to avoid? Certain tags? Idk but please lmk if you know I’m still new to this technically LOL

Thanks in advance 🫶🏼

[sukirichi]

earned it [06]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. attempted murder and suicide, angst ig i feel nothing at this point because NAOYA 😭

notes. i’m rolling with the earned it jokes that reader is shippable with everyone so HAH enjoy this chapter because I didn’t enjoy the last LMAO (IM SO EXCITED FOR TOJI TO APPEAR!)

series masterlist

Your muscles throbbed, the pounding of your heart felt even through your skin. You’ve spent hours in the training room, taking punch by punch, landing blow by blow – yet no matter how hard you tried, you kept falling on your ass. At this point, your backside was beyond sore, skin drenched with sweat and clothes sticking uncomfortably to the surface. Meanwhile, your ‘savior’ barely felt the need to catch his breath, instead gazing down at you with disappointment written all over his face.

“Why do you expect so much from me?” you panted, fists clenched on the mat. “Didn’t you tell me you just needed me to get your money back and that’s it? I didn’t ask for you to do anything so stop telling me I’m indebted to you all the time.”

Naoya clicked his tongue, clearly disappointed by your lack of resolve. Above you, he swept up his cane and finally balanced himself. You previously thought he didn’t struggle because he looked so calm and composed, easily overpowering you even with his injury, but his lips were strained, jaw clenched tight that perhaps he was just good at concealing his pain. It made you shut up and watch his every move; his back faced you – probably to hide whatever fleeting moment of vulnerability he had.

“I won’t always be there to save your sorry life,” he said calmly, “You need to learn how to be strong on your own no matter how tough it gets. Now if you’ll keep complaining instead of finishing your training, I could happily lock you up and force you to do my dirty work for me.”

“Then why don’t you go ahead?!”

“I don’t want to,” Naoya responded without missing a beat. He easily closed the distance with a few staggered steps, his head tilted to the side as he surveyed you.

You wondered what went through his mind. Did he see a weak woman? A woman who must be so helpless, so useless that you stayed there, legs too tired and muscles aching too much you couldn’t move? There was no telling with Naoya, and his guarded gaze didn’t help either. Satoru had always been difficult to read at most, but with Naoya – it was practically impossible.

Even as he cupped your chin and twisted it sideways, his eyes narrowed over all your features like he saw something you didn’t, he was too guarded.

“I need you in taking down Gojo Satoru. In order to accomplish that, I have to use his weakness against him. You showing up won’t be enough. No, I want to hurt him…and what better way than to take what was once his, right? Dangle right in front of his eyes what he let go of, make him regret his actions?” his smile turned dark, and for the first time since you’ve met him, you got a glance of what his heart really looked like.

It wasn’t true that Naoya was heartless – no, he just had a dark, sinister heart that didn’t beat the same tune as others. He played his own music with the bones of his enemies, drinking their lifeline from a gold cup and drowning in them, his ominous laughter the perfect antithetical melody of what could’ve been angelic hums.

“Don’t you want that?”

His question made your heart skipped a beat. This whole time, you’ve been so hell bent on achieving something, but what you wanted to reach had never been clear. You were too driven by emotions, by the pain Satoru’s absence had caused, and now that the opportunity was presented before you, you faltered.

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, if you ask me what I want…” he tilts your chin up with his finger “It would be to see you strong enough that even you would be capable of taking me down. So be strong, keep fighting – I’ll be there with you every step of the way. You only have one job, and that is to live. I am not allowing you to give up at the slightest of minor inconveniences.”

“And if I get weak?” you questioned with an oscillating tremor, the bite of his cold skin against your heated ones spiking. “If I want to give up? Would I fail you then?”

“I don’t think you’re someone who cares about failing others, so don’t fret whether you’d please me or not,” Just like that, Naoya’s scornful tone had risen again. He let go of you until you dropped down to your palms, blinking back at the sudden change of atmosphere. “Like I said, just do what you need to do, keep going. Don’t look back or be afraid to take the next big step because I’ll always be there right beside you.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking you to, princess,” he snickered, already half way to the door that only he was allowed to go in. Even though you’ve been staying in his manor for quite some time, there were still some things Naoya didn’t trust you with, leaving you only more curious to find out the secrets within.

“Only time will tell. But once you’ve made your decision, know that my ring is always waiting beside your table,” his voice echoed through the large room, stopping in his tracks to look at you once more. This time, he had no haunting features, only the cold emptiness likened to staring back to an infinite void of nothingness.

“I expect an answer when I get home.”

You still remembered the day you decided to wear his ring. Naoya had come then, tired and aggravated from matters he didn’t bother explaining. You stood on his doorway, lips shut tight as you nervously fiddled with your ring, unsure if whether you should tell him or allow him to piece the puzzle himself.

Thankfully, Naoya was a lot more observant than you gave him credit for.

His eyes slid over your face before he followed the motion of your fingers, smirking as the jewel glinted under the bright lights of his home. Wise choice, he’d once told you, and you believed it.

Your life hadn’t been the same ever since. Your spontaneous marriage equated to hellish training of perfecting your image as his trophy wife, spending hours in his secret laboratory and discussing business plans through a glass of wine. Naoya wasn’t around much to teach you everything and it pained him to be your own trainer too so you had to ask help from his guards, refusing to give up and fall down even as your muscles screamed at you to take a break. For Naoya, with Naoya, giving up and running away felt like a myth; a buried solution in the past that should never be brought up again. But now that he was gone, you did exactly that.

You’d given up. Satoru had made you run away.

“Miss,” a deep voice cut you from your thoughts. You tore your gaze away from the  glowing night city of Milan to turn to Satoru’s right hand man, the tall figure looming rather shyly instead of imposingly. “You haven’t eaten since we got here. Would you like anything? Mr. Gojo will cover your expenses.”

“I want to go home.”

He froze at your deadpan statement. Finally meeting your gaze under his lashes, Geto pursed his lips. “You know we can’t do that, Miss. It’s unsafe back in Japan.”

“And who’s to say Toji won’t follow us here?” you snapped, pushing your weight off the Cleopatra set and uncrossing your legs. “Why can’t your stupid boss just activate the account and give it back to us? I think we’ve made it clear we’re more than capable of handling our finances, and I’m pretty sure Satoru doesn’t need any more money when he can afford all this.”

“Mr. Gojo…has his reasons for everything he does.”

You laughed bitterly. Maybe it was the fact that Satoru had left this morning for whatever business he had that you didn’t have anyone else to let your anger out to that you’d swiped your gun under your thigh holster and dashed his way.

Geto’s back slammed against the wall, the cool barrel of your gun pressed to his jaw. He swallowed nervously, eyes darting to your weapon, and you laughed heartlessly. “Oh, please, do tell because nothing makes sense,” you crooned, flipping the safety off and letting your heated gaze meet his rather docile ones. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“I could easily put a bullet through your head and hijack his plane. I’ll be gone before you know it and who’s to stop me from doing that? Why should I stay here any longer with you?”

“Because your husband asked you to,” Geto responded softly. You stepped back with wide eyes, yesterday’s event crashing all over you once again. He must’ve sensed you no longer held any hostility because he used his pointer finger to move the barrel away from him, gently peeling your hands off his suit. “Because you know, if you go back to Japan, there will be nothing waiting for you there.”

You balled your fists. “I will kill Fushiguro Toji myself. Then I’ll kill Satoru.”

“Even if he used to be your lover?”

“Especially because he used to be my lover.”

Okay…maybe your plan of escaping and returning to Japan hadn’t worked out that well. Exhaustion finally crept up to your senses that you passed out not long after attacking Geto – who reassured you to no end he wasn’t mad you tried to kill him – and days have passed ever since. You hated to admit it, but being stuck in an overseas hotel wasn’t so bad. Geto’s presence was a lot more comforting than his master’s that you didn’t mind having him watch your every move. Plus, he was really nice to immediately follow your every whim. You wanted hot chocolate? Extra pillows? A really expensive wine that you refused to pay for because you were petty and dramatic? He provided it all without question.

Except he probably should have, because you’d stripped off to your underwear, head tipped back to take one final swig of the nearly empty bottle as you slid deeper into the tub.

Your fiery nature of rolling your eyes at Satoru every time he came around (which was rare, for some reason) couldn’t fool anyone – not even yourself. The moment Geto retired to the living room, you would bite the pillows to muffle your cries, thinking back to when Naoya was still alive. It was an endless torment of what if you had stayed, what if you had pushed the rubble off him, what if you just saved him?

Would he still be alive? Would he have survived? Would you be back with him in the Zen’in Estate instead of holding your breath under the tub in a desperate attempt to conceal your tears?

It hurt so bad. It hurt everywhere.

Your lungs begged you to rise up and breathe, but you stayed still under the water, eyes shut tight and hands clenched around the tub’s edges so hard your knuckles turned white. Soon, you grew dizzy and your grip slipped away. Finally, fucking finally, you were falling, falling way too deep that your legs bent inside the tub. Bubbles erupted from your lips in one last breath. At the back of your mind, you let out a sincere laugh for you’d meet your husband soon. He’d be disappointed, probably scold you all the way to the afterlife – until strong arms pulled you out of the tub and into someone’s chest instead.

“Shit, what are you doing?! You could’ve drowned!”

You coughed out water and fisted Satoru’s button-up shirt that had now clung to his skin from the water. Looking around you, you were still very much alive, the uncomfortable twisting of your heart a painful reminder of that. Above you, Satoru sat you in his lap while he remained cross-legged on the floor, muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped a towel around you.

Scoffing, you pushed his hands away, though you kept the towel anyway to lessen your shivering. Why the fuck was the AC so damn strong here?

“Dying seems like a better option, don’t you think?” you snarled at him, teeth chattering from the chill that had begin to seep in.

Momentarily, you worried on how much of a hot mess you probably looked like. Smudged eyeliner, wine-stained lips, unbrushed hair and remnants of the wine mixing with the once clear bath water – you shook your head at the thought and glared at Satoru.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I was out contacting friends to ask for help. We’re going to need a hundred pairs of eyes watching anywhere that Toji could possibly come through.”

“Is this your pathetic idea of ‘keeping me safe’? Locking me up in this stupid hotel and having your man watch me all the time?” you pushed yourself off him, the sudden motion of standing up giving you wobbly legs. Satoru reached over to steady you but you slapped his hand away, your glare warning him to not take another step.

Seeing his face, seeing him worried as if he didn’t just cause your life to turn into absolute hell, you wanted to grab the wine bottle and smash it right at his pretty face. He had no right to look at you with pity.

You hated him, utterly and terribly despised this man with your entire being.

“What are you really planning, Satoru? Why can’t we just come back home and attack Toji with all we’ve got? Why don’t you just give back our fucking money so we can end all this for once and for all and I can leave?!”

“Because I don’t have the money!”

“What?”

“The money…” Satoru’s back slid off the wall, his palm coming up to thread through his hair. He sounded weak, defeated. “I don’t have it.”

“Gojo,” you snatched him by the collar, teeth bared as you demanded, “What do you mean you don’t have it?”

Satoru paled. “When I stole the money from the Zen’ins, the figures were all fake. They’re not real, there’s no actual money hidden behind their accounts and it was too late before I realized that,” his lips trembled as he continued, “Whatever Toji placed in there, it’s not his actual account where he hides everything and it would make sense too because I stole it too easily – almost as if they wanted me to take it. A few hacks here and there and it was immediately wired to me but after meeting you…” Satoru shook his head, chin dropped down low. “I checked again and the account never existed. It’s a fake one. The digits are just there for show.”

“So then why would Toji want it? Why did my husband have to die for nothing?!”

“I don’t know, okay, I don’t know anything!” he argued back until your faces grew closer, his nose brushing with yours.

Somehow, you couldn’t pull away. His knees had drawn up, forcing you to rest on his thighs as you both breathed heavily, your grip on his collar almost havered.

“Whatever the Zen’ins are hiding, that’s beyond me. I may be in the business for far longer than they have, but they have always been notorious with their possessions that I’m not surprised even I can’t find where it really leads back to. Whatever Toji is hiding there, your husband must’ve known something about it. Why else would they fight tooth and bone over it?”

“If there was, Naoya would’ve told me about it.”

“He would if he trusted you,” Satoru suddenly grabbed your wrist and shook it until you stared at your ring. “How are you even so sure he could trust you with that information? Have you forgotten you’re just a pawn to his game and you’re nothing but a bed warmer?”

“Don’t you ever speak about us that way. You don’t know how much he cared for me.”

“If he really did, then why didn’t he tell you why his cousin is after you? He’s using you as bait, Y/N. I’m not the bad guy here. That man you’re so deeply in love with? I can’t guarantee he’s better than me. We’re all men in the mafia, love is the last thing we would care about.”

You pushed yourself off him.

His words stung too much, not because it was a lie, but because you know there was some sort of truth ringing behind it. You trudged out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, unstirred by the fact you dripped all over the carpeted floor. From behind you, Satoru’s rushed footsteps echoed, but you didn’t care. You simply threw on a robe with your back turned to him.

“And you’d know that better than everyone right? Considering how easy it was for you to leave me?” When Satoru didn’t respond, you chuckled humorlessly and sat on the bed. “What Naoya and I had…it was a friendship that healed my soul. I don’t…I don’t know what to do without him.”

“Friendship?”

You smiled sadly. “I wasn’t actually in love with him, idiot. Men like Naoya don’t know what love is, but he sure does know how to protect family.”

The notion of talking about him, of accepting that maybe he really was gone…somewhat reliving.

Satoru was the last person you wanted to talk to your late husband about, but Geto – which is the much better company – wasn’t around, and you hugged your knees to yourself, refusing to let Satoru see through your vulnerability.

“You know, I trusted him more than I did myself. He was always there for me, no matter what. His soul was dark, angry, corrupted – he’s not the man I would fall for, but despite all that, he was the friend I needed,” you buried your face in your knees, voice muffled as you cried, your heart shattering again and again and again.

The ring on your finger had never felt so heavy ever since you wore it.

“I loved him as much as I hated you.”

Satoru was silent, so much so that you wondered if he was even in the same room at all. You sat there crying, too hopeless to even try to conceal it anymore. Shivering, you close your eyes and forced the image of Naoya’s last moments away from your memories, desperately praying to whoever had mercy that you could just forget all about it.

“Geto told me you tried to kill him,” Satoru murmured after a beat, “You could’ve easily escaped and went back to Japan if you wanted to, so why didn’t you? Was it because of me?”

You remembered what you tried to do today.

Just like that, Naoya was alive once more. You were brought back to the day of your wedding when he’d clasped your sweaty, clammy hands in his, rubbing some warmth in them before pressing a kiss at the top of your knuckles. He’d asked you to promise him something then – an entire contrast from his constants orders over your well-being – and it was a promise you’d momentarily forgotten; a promise you’d broken out of mourning.

“Naoya once told me,” you reminisced through dry, cracked lips and even more shattered heart, the picture of his disappointment as clear as day. “Death was the only place he can go where he would never allow me to follow.”

It took a lot, but it somehow got better. After allowing yourself a faint moment of weakness where Naoya resurfaced in your mind to remind you of our promise and your purpose, you felt stronger, somewhat steadier with each step you took. You were still wary around Satoru, although that was a given.

His friend, Geto, was really nice, on the other hand, and you couldn’t explain why you always lowered your guard around the formal dark-haired assistant.

You and Geto were playing chess when Satoru barged in out of nowhere, a plate and a syrup condenser on his hand. “So I got you breakfast,” was his greeting, nodding at Geto once as a silent order to give you two privacy. You pouted as the latter left, but soon your attention had been diverted to the heavenly aroma filling in your senses. Seeing your approval, Satoru hid a smile behind his dark sunglasses. “Still like pancakes?”

“Trying to get into my good graces now?”

“I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

You rolled your eyes but snatched the plate from him anyway. “So I talked to my lawyer,” you begun, pouring syrup all over the fluffy bread until it was almost spilling to the sides. Beside you, Satoru’s snickers were barely muffled, to which you ignored wholeheartedly. “They’ve already processed my inheritance over Naoya’s possessions and assets. Once we return to Japan, I’ll be the next leader of the Zen’in Clan, much to the disappointment of his elders, of course, but they can’t do anything about it,” you informed him with your fork hanging in mid-air, the words falling thickly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“That we’re back to being enemies?”

You offered him a sarcastic smile. “Naoya lied about strengthening his alliance with your family. He doesn’t actually give a fuck about you.”

“I figured that much,” he snickered to himself, shifting his weight until his elbows rested on his thighs. “Listen…a friend of mine is flying to Milan tonight to meet us. They have strong connections with banks all over the world and they brought in some information about that hidden Zen’in account. I think we’re finally getting off to somewhere and finding out what really is in there,” Satoru gauged for your reaction, but you kept eating – more like stuffing the pancakes inside your mouth for you were finally free of having to act perfect without your husband.

Satoru’s hand landed on top of yours. “I promise…I’ll give it back to right where it belongs. As soon as it’s wired back to you, I’m setting you free.”

You stared at the unwanted figure over you, and you snatched your hand back, waving a bread knife below his lashes. “You can’t set me free when I was never yours,” you sang breathily, the tip of the blade hovered right at his lips. Satoru raised a brow at you, but you quickly retrieved the knife back with widened eyes. “Now that you mention it…I think Naoya told me something about his family stashing secret weapons and even heirlooms through offshore accounts and buried under islands. He was a little sleepy during that time but I remember it,” pushing the plate away from you as you lost your appetite, you clutched your palms under your chin in thought. “He said he was looking for something he lost as a child, possibly an heirloom.”

“He’s doing all this for heirlooms?” Satoru immediately coughed his words back when you glared at him, raising his hands in surrender. “I mean, I was just saying. I didn’t think he was a sentimental type of guy.”

“The question here is what both Toji and Naoya could’ve both wanted from that account. It’s not just an heirloom, obviously there’s something there worth more than money,” You argued and slapped your knees, heading straight to your (unfortunately) shared room. “Whatever. I’ll get this over with as soon as I get the money back.”

Satoru, as always, was hot on your heels. It annoyed you how he trailed over you like some sort of puppy or shadow – Naoya had always been too classy to not give you space.

The difference between them just kept getting more and more uncannily obvious.

“Whoa there, stop. Did you really think I’d give back the money to you and that’s it? Are you forgetting the fact Toji is out there to kill you just so he can have his hands on it?”

“He can have the money for all I fucking care,” you shrugged and sat on your bed, scrolling through numerous piles of emails and records that Naoya entrusted you to keep. Surely you could find something. “I just need to find whatever Naoya’s spent his whole life killing for.”

“Why don’t you care about the money? Didn’t Naoya expect you to take over his business?”

Your thumb froze over a file. Suddenly, your throat grew dry, and you quickly flashed Satoru a stinky eye. “I-it’s not my main concern.”

“It’s not safe for you. If Toji finds out—”

Got it. You bookmarked an email Naoya had forwarded you around three years ago and resent it to an old friend, pocketing the phone back to your pyjamas before Satoru could see. “I’ll handle it. I’ve been doing well so far before you came into our lives again,” you finalized, stopping for a bit as you waited for that all-too familiar footfall matching with yours, only for the room to be coated in silence.

Satoru stood there on the other side of the room, eyes deep in thought before he sighed. “I’ll meet you at the hotel restaurant tonight. We have a lot to discuss on what our next move should be,” nodding once, Satoru left the room.

The hotel room was eerily silent.

Dinner came around faster than you expected. With Geto out to run some errands for Satoru, something about ‘establishing bases’ or whatever, you were locked in your room, using Naoya’s black card to get enough amount of clothing to last you for your stay here. Even though Satoru had promised he’d take care of everything, you didn’t want to be in his debt for any longer. You weren’t his, you were Naoya’s, and you shot down his curious looks when heaps of shopping bags had been delivered to your door.

An hour later, you left the room, struggling to zipper the back of your dress. Satoru was already in the living room buttoning up his suit jacket, just as handsome as ever (though you’d never tell him that.)

His hands froze in the last button once his eyes landed on you, and you huffed at him, too distressed to even act cute or bothered while pointing to your dress. Satoru strode to you in three long steps, his cold fingers brushing against the dip of your spine when he clutched on the zipper.

You had to bite your lip down to prevent the shivers from spilling through, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispered, “You look great.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

If Satoru was bothered by the lack of sincerity in your voice, he didn’t comment on it. He removed his hands from you and watched as you slipped black velvet gloves through your arms – just in case you had to end up killing someone; leaving fingerprints was a risk you couldn’t take.

“Did you really get dressed to kill?”

“I came here to negotiate,” you corrected, “I’ll do everything I can to find out whatever’s behind that offshore account. And you, sir,” Frowning at him, you pulled Satoru closer by the tie, perhaps a little too harshly since he nearly knocked his head with yours. He was quick to steady himself as you fixed his tie, flattening it down with your fingers. “You need to know where you should stick your nose in. This is more my business than yours so don’t get in my way acting all hero and shit. I assure you I can handle myself.”

“You’re really going to berate me for worrying about you?”

“You can no longer worry about me,” you disclosed, snatching your black purse from the counter before doing the come hither motion at his shock-still figure. “Now let’s go. We have a case to crack.”

“Case to crack? You sure sound like a detective.”

You snickered, but made no further comment. The elevators dinged and you arrived at the restaurant, which you really regretted not visiting soon enough because the place was grand. Red carpeted floors, golden chandeliers, soft jazz music playing in the background as the lights dimmed down low, the faint clinking of utensils against plates and light chatter of the guests so heartbreakingly nostalgic.

It seemed that even after his death, Naoya had every intention to never leave your side. The setting reminded you too much of your never-ending late night fancy dinners.

Naoya being Naoya, he didn’t blink twice in flaunting his money and renting out entire restaurants all for himself, claiming that he just ‘wanted to have an intimate moment with his wife.’ Sure, it mostly consisted of you discussing what move you should make next, but it was the most affectionate gesture you’ve received after spending years in the quiet and cold environment of the Zen’in Estate.

The outside world wasn’t any better when you and Naoya were marked as targets by the entire government, so it made sense, that only with him that you’d find comfort in.

You must be so out of it you never even noticed Satoru leading you to your seat, a warm meal that should’ve been comforting right under your nose. It was too much – too similar that you headed straight for the wine, ignoring Satoru’s questioning gaze. You noticed from the corner of his eye that he opened his mouth too many times in an attempt to make light conversation, but this dinner wasn’t for you to rekindle your old flame.

No, you were here to wait for his ‘friend’ and review important matters. You were determined to fulfill that purpose alone and only that alone that you never once made eye contact with him, even standing up to reach the salt shaker near him instead of asking him to pass it.

Just as you leaned back to your seat, the music grew louder. A foreign man walked to the stage where he was basked in the spotlight, all heads turning to him when he tapped the microphone, sending little echoes all over the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s loosen up tonight with a drink and bring our lovers out here on the dance floor,” he sang while swaying side to side, snapping his fingers to the beat that had turned into calming to sensual. “It is a fine evening, isn’t it? Come on, don’t be shy, the night is still so young!”

You dropped your fork beside the plate. “Did you know about this?”

“I swear, I had no idea.”

“Those two attractive lovers in table 42, the dance floor is still much too spacious!”

“Pretty vulgar for a five star hotel,” you commented under your breath and dabbed the pasta sauce off your lips with a napkin, slapping it down the table as you stood up – much to Satoru’s surprise who’d tried to make himself invisible from the host’s eyes. Stupid him; did he really think he could blend in with his sunglasses and snow white hair?

If you were to be honest, you’d rather choke on shrimp than dance with him, but you had an image to upkeep. If you couldn’t gather with the crowd and pretend to be one with others, both your true natures would be fished out even with innocent eyes. You were left with no choice but to be comfortable in the dance floor, sighing deeply as you placed your hands down on Satoru’s wide shoulders. He furrowed his brows at you but said nothing else; strong, cautious hands sliding down from your back before they settled at the curve of your hips.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mister. I won’t hesitate to stab a fork through your jugular right here.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re not my little angel anymore.”

Angel. It was what he used to call you back then – when you were still but an innocent, naïve being who never believed in monsters until you fell for one.

He was right; you were no longer his angel. The woman he loved had been left abandoned in the street, the purity of her soul tainted with anger and heartbreak that soon bathed in blood and the need for revenge. His angel was no more – the woman he danced with was nothing but a replica of the face and body he adored the most. Now, you danced with him, not as his angel and neither as his rival’s wife, but simply as a woman whose kindness had long vanished into thin air.

Satoru danced with the devil.

And he should be disgusted just as you should be repulsed with how sickeningly smooth and graceful he was in everything he did, but the wine – yes, it was the fucking wine – messed with you that you actually enjoyed it. Your bodies moved in rhythm and syncopated with the beat, the romantic high notes of the violin and the tender embrace of deep trebles like a classical painting coming to life and you were its subjects to be expressed.

Perhaps…you were just sad. You grieved and mourned too much you’d momentarily forgot what love was, in turn making you forget what it felt like to be constantly unsafe and peeking over your shoulder in case someone tried to kill you.

Satoru just felt so warm, so safe and alive that you found your head dipping lower, your muscles relaxing around his soothing and undeniably tender touch, the space between your bodies diminishing until you surrendered to the power of your desire. You were so close, your ear about to press on his chest to listen to the blissful sound of someone’s reassuring heartbeat along with the music, and then you saw him.

A tuft of blonde hair, a chiseled face, a nude cream suit and a deep blue shirt beneath – what the fuck was he doing here?

The spell was broken in an instant.

Satoru must’ve been under the same trance for his hand trailed lower to pull you closer, your chests grazing with one another before you placed your palm flat on his body, lips thinned into a grim look that resonated with the sick, twisting feeling in your guts.

“I,” you croaked out, clearing your throat when it went dry. “I need to go to the ladies.”

You left Satoru without another word, bunching your dress up to run to where he had disappeared. He was still walking coolly and inspecting the paintings hung in the empty lobby with faux interest – although knowing him, the bastard probably did enjoy classical pieces and studied about them in his free time; which he didn’t have much to begin with.

As if sensing your presence, he stopped right in front of a replica of The Sleeping Venus, his hands dug deep in his pockets. “The shape of being is the visual demonstration of a state of being in which idealized existence is suspended in immutable slow-breathing harmony. All the sensuality has been distilled off from this sensuous presence, and all incitement; Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself,” he narrates in his baritone voice, “A little cordial, is it not?”

You took your gun out from your thigh holster and lowered it right at the back of his skull. “Don’t move another inch.”

“No need to be so hostile in a public setting, Y/N. I’m only here to look out for you and making sure you’re not forgetting who you are. Killing me isn’t part of the plan.”

“Neither was murdering my husband,” you growled, pushing the barrel harder against him, though the man didn’t budge before you. “I know that it wasn’t Toji who set off the bomb, Kento, you did.”

“We simply saw an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted. Two notorious mafia leaders in an unsuspecting supposed safe environment?” The fact he didn’t even deny it left you speechless. Kento spun around until your gun rested between his eyes, and he languidly pushed his glasses up his high nose as he looked down on you. “We could’ve killed two birds with one stone had you not been in the way.”

“You guys are out to kill me too now?”

“Don’t act too surprised. The Organization isn’t patient enough to wait for both leaders to die.”

“So you killed my husband?!” you argued, “He was my friend, I told you not to touch him!”

“Only in the exchange that you hand him to us,” Kento echoed, jogging your memory until you were kept up to date. “But it’s been five years and what has happened so far? You’re fraternizing with the enemy and even manufacturing drugs for your so-called husband. Now that he’s dead, you’re here in Italy, looking as stunning as ever as you wine and dine with a former lover,” Kento tilted his head to the side to study your appearance – smiling at how you seemed too bright and fashionable for a woman in supposed mourning.

“I hardly believe you’re actually affected by this at all.”

“How dare you! I’ve proven to no end my loyalty of the higher-ups!”

Kento didn’t bat an eye at your outburst. If anything, he stepped closer to your weapon. “Kill me if you wish, Y/N, but know the moment you put a bullet in my head, the Organization will place you on the same pedestal as Naoya’s and Gojo’s. I wouldn’t recommend such methods considering we’re already at unease on whose side you’re really on. If you do this, you will be our enemy.”

“I did everything for the Organization. What else would you want from me?”

“The contract was easy. We want both leaders – whether dead or alive – in our custody. If you don’t hold your side of the deal, it’s not only your life that we’ll take from you,” Kento pulled out a red coin that made your heart sink deep into your stomach for it served as a threat over the consequences of your actions.

He lowered your gun with the coin and smirked at you, his lips right beside the shell of your ear as he purred, “I suggest you be careful with what step of action you take next.”

“Oi, Nanami, you’re here!” Satoru’s voice suddenly boomed in the hallway. Nanami was as unbothered as ever from taking a step away from you, nodding to your gun which you quickly concealed right before Satoru arrived. You were frozen – rendered immobile with the flashing red metal from his palm – that you couldn’t even protest against Satoru wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I see you’ve met Mrs. Zen’in already.”

“Hmm, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” taking your hand in his, Kento’s eyes were nothing but eerie as he kissed your knuckles. “Shall we start our discussion?”

SUKI RANTS! Nanami quoted Sydney Joseph Friedberg (an art critic) in one of his dialogues. A little backstory on the painting was that the portrait was originally made by Giorgone, who had a student and also his lover (if I’m not mistaken) called Titian. Giorgone never finished the portrait because he died from the plague but Titiane finished it for him, symbolizing that Y/N still has a mission that connected her from Naoya even after his death and she has to finish something he started. The portrait is of a nude woman that symbolized oneness of nature and that the woman isn’t posed for the gaze of men, but rather they are dreaming, hence the quote: “Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself.” Nanami said the painting’s meaning resonated with Y/N’s situation too much since she wasn’t in love with Naoya, but she had a recollection of their moments that still represented their relationship, and that Naoya’s dream (goals) are also shared by Reader. I was gonna ask you guys what your theories are on that scene but I think this makes me sound cooler if I explain it so *lip bite emoji because I’m still broken over Naoya’s death*

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed):

@sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant​ @mikiminaccch​ @riri-marley​ | bolded users cannot be tagged

[bestiesenpai]

twitch streamer geto suguru

This is a thought that doesn’t just live rent free in my head oh no this thought is the landlord of my mind. Go read the shitposts I made about this, but technically you don’t need to for context. Femme pronouns

Looking at himself in the mirror, Suguru smiled widely. His costume was perfect for today's stream. He knew his fans would love it, they voted for his next one and were practically frothing at the mouth when he announced he’d be doing it.

“Babe, come in!” He called for you. You’d left the bathroom a few minutes ago and hadn’t seen him in the full outfit.

“Coming!” Your footsteps padded on the carpet and then you appeared in the doorway. “Looking good, Dabi.” You grinned, taking note of his lack of shirt and the pants hanging low on his hips. The only thing keeping him from looking like an off duty stripper was the jacket concealing just enough to not be too too scandalous.

“Oh Toga, you’re too kind.” He chuckled, looking at his makeup in the mirror. “You really outdid yourself with the makeup, ya know.”

“Thanks.” Twirling the skirt you had on between your fingers, you looked at yourself in the mirror. “I think I look pretty cute.”

“The cutest.” Giving your butt a squeeze, Suguru slipped past you. “I’m going to start the stream now.”

“Okay!” Giving him a wave, you went to another room to occupy yourself for however many hours he’d be busy today. You could hear the music he played at the beginning of his stream start to play, and you put on headphones.

“Hello everyone, it’s your favorite sexy cosplayer!” Suguru said into his microphone, smiling at all the comments that flooded in, all in shock of how good his makeup and outfit looked. “You like the get up?”

Hundreds and hundreds of comments flooded in all saying yes. Chuckling, he stood up and showed off his outfit to the camera. Letting his coat flutter open, he laughed at the many all caps messages saying how hot he was.

“Should I say something Dabi would say?” Tapping his chin, Suguru hummed for a bit. “If you’re trash, at least be kindling for my flames. How’s that?” A couple donations came in, all praising him for his good imitation.

Sitting back down, he set up the game he was going to play for the first portion of the stream: cooking mama. Reading out a few messages and thanking everyone over and over again, he started up the game.

In the room you were in, you could hear frantic laughter and crazed shouts from Suguru. He always got super into whatever game he was playing, playing up his reactions perfectly for the watchers. He often had to drink a warm cup of tea after a stream because he’d been shouting and laughing so much.

After an hour, you got a text from him, asking to bring him a snack. You hadn’t changed out of the outfit, promising to take pictures for his Instagram once the stream was over. Quickly fixing him a plate, you knocked on the door.

“Sugu, I’m here.” You tried not to speak too loudly in case he was talking.

“Oh everyone, my Uber eats is here, one second. I know, I know, I’m eating so early into the stream!” Chuckling, Suguru opened the door and smiled at you. “Hey delivery girl, you’re pretty cute.”

“Shut up.” You giggled, trying to push the plate into his hand.

“You know, you’re so cute my stream should see you!” He shouted, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into the room.

“Sugu!” You shouted, face flushing at suddenly being on camera.

“Sugu? I don’t know who that is, Toga.” Holding you more securely around your waist, Suguru tossed the plate on his desk and positioned you in front of the camera. “Look everyone, Toga joined me!”

“H-hi.” No matter how many times he made you appear on camera you were still a little shy. Gripping the edges of the beige cardigan you had on, you waved shyly at the camera. You could see the comments flooding by, ‘so cute!’ ‘couple goals!’ ‘I’m so jealous!’.

“Some of you were wondering why we aren’t wearing wigs too and to be honest this makeup took far too long to even fuck with a wig.” Suguru laughed, running a hand through his hair. “But I should tie it up, huh? It’s getting pretty hot.”

“I’ll help.” You always had a scrunchie on you for Suguru. He refused to use normal hair ties, citing how bad they were for your hair.

“Oh, it’s everyone’s favorite part.” He teased. Dramatically fluttering his coat to the side, Suguru dropped to his knees in front of you despite your flustered requests to just bend his head forward.

“You know you don’t have to do all this.” You muttered, ignoring all the horny comments in his chat. Suguru really knew how to play up his audience and make everything a clippable moment. He didn’t have thousands of subscribers for no reason.

“But Toga, I like it when you do it like this.” He whined loudly, smirking up at you and grabbing the edges of your cardigan. Laughing at the embarrassed noise you let out, he closed his eyes as you gathered his hair into a bun on his head.

“There you go.” Patting his shoulder, you helped him up. Trying to take a step back, Suguru caught you by the arm.

“C’mon, at least pose a little with me?”

“But I thought we were just going to do it for Instagram?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Just a little bit, promise.”

“Alright.” Moving into a better position, you threw your hands up and made the same gestures as the real Toga Himiko, cupping your cheeks and smiling up at Suguru just like you’d practiced. “Is this good?”

“Look at the donations baby, you’re doing great.” Giving you a quick peck on the forehead, Suguru thanked all the people donating. Getting into his position, he did a few poses as well. Only doing a few, he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you over to his desk, making you sit on his lap as he sat on the chair.

“There’s a few new subs, (Y/N), you should thank them.” Tapping the microphone softly, Suguru gestured for you to lean forward. Ignoring the chat all furiously typing that they wanted to sit on Sugurus lap, you looked at yourself on the monitor.

“Thank you everyone who donated and subscribed! You’re all so sweet and Suguru and I really appreciate and love every single one of you!” You had learned that script early on in Sugurus streaming career. It was heartfelt and true, and better yet you never stuttered over it.

Patting you on the back, Suguru turned off cooking mama and put on some background music.

“Toga, would you like to play a game?” He asked, making his voice drop a little.

“What is it?”

“I think you’ll like this game.” He smirked wickedly, his eyes darting to the camera and giving it a wink.

“Why’d you wink?”

“No reason!” Rocking back and forth, Suguru chuckled to himself. “Will you go grab the VR? It’s in the drawer over there.”

“Sugu, please!” You knew exactly what he was going to have you do and it was already making your heart race. You were still close to the microphone, and everyone could hear your pitiful whine.

“Hey don’t make those sounds, people have to pay extra for that.” Covering the microphone with his hand, Suguru pat you on the legs. “It’ll be a short one this time.”

“You say that all the time!” Throwing your head back, you got up from his lap and grabbed the VR headset, setting it up quickly.

“Now chat, you guys have been suggesting this game nonstop for (Y/N) to play and one of the mods sent me a copy, so now we’re going to play!” Suguru went on to show the game on screen, a horror game that had been trending recently. He’d brought it up to you in passing, asking what you thought of it and if you’d ever play it with him off stream.

“I hate it here!” You groaned, flipping off the camera as it was angled to capture your whole body. Neither the chat nor Suguru could hold back their laughs, and many donations were ringing in.

“Here, let me help.” Suguru stood and adjusted the headset on your face, putting the controllers firmly in your hands. Patting you on the head, he sent a thumbs up to the screen. “Let’s go everyone! And no one worry, (Y/N) has safety shorts on under the skirt, so if she kicks her leg like last time no perverts will see her bits.”

“That’s right!” You nodded in what you hoped was the direction of the monitor. You weren’t facing it before Suguru had put the headset on, so you had no idea if you were looking in the right direction.

“Starting now.” He announced, and the game started up on your screen. It was fine enough, chilling music playing in your ears at a low volume. “How’s the sound, (Y/N)?”

“It’s fine.” Nodding, you started a new game. “The graphics are really good on this so far!”

“That’s great.” Adjusting the microphone, Suguru could barely hide his smile. As the game started, you felt shivers roll down your spine. Little things slammed in your ears and your head whipped side to side.

“So this is one of those mission games? I-I can do it, no problem!” You breathed, jolting right after as something passed the corner of your vision.

“That’s the spirit!” Suguru clapped for you. “Chat believes in you as well.”

There were a few small jump scares, spiders and things chasing you that made you shout. As the game progressed, you were doing better than anyone thought you would.

“S-sugu.” You whimpered at a checkpoint, adjusting the controllers in your sweaty hands.

“Hm?”

“T-there’s a monster.” Pointing in front of you, you could see the thing staring at you from the end of a long, dark hallway.

“Aw, there is?” Suguru teased, looking at the screen. “We see it now.”

“Oh shit, it’s coming toward me.” Taking a small step back, you quickly ran your character away from it. Chase music sounded for a bit and your skin prickled at almost getting caught.

“Good job, you got away!”

“Mhmm.” Taking a deep breath, you continued on with the game, shouting a few more times at jump scares. Suguru hadn’t spoken in a while, just letting you play the game alone. The silence from him combined with the music from the game set you more on edge, and when a monster appeared, you groaned.

“Shit, shit- Sugu! A monster is chasing me!” This one was faster and much more terrifying than the previous one. Suguru didn’t offer any words of comfort and you almost yelled at him as you were running away. “Sugu, help, help, it’s gonna- ahhhh!”

“Ah!” Suguru and you screamed at the exact same time, but for different reasons. As soon as the monster grabbed you and screamed in your ears, jump scaring you on the screen, Suguru grabbed your sides in real life, making it feel even realer.

“No!” Screaming wildly, you leapt from his hold and fell onto the floor. Scrambling to take the headset off, your breathing was all over the place. “Sugu!” You nearly cried, heart beating far too hard. Suguru was bent over, laughing so hard he was silent.

“S-so-sorry!” He choked out, slapping his knee as he tried to regain his composure.

“You’re the worst!” Silly little tears misted your lashes and you put the headset on the table behind you and crossed your arms childishly. You were shaking from how much you’d been scared, and you could see some of the messages in chat laughing at you, telling everyone they’d clipped the moment to be shared later.

“C’mere.” Tugging on the back of your cardigan, Suguru cooed at you. “Toga, don’t be pouty.”

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Throwing your head back, you let Suguru wrap you in a hug but you didn’t uncross your arms. “Why do I have to play the scary games?”

“Because your reactions are better than mine. I don’t get scared like that.” Putting his head on your chin, he rocked you back and forth. “You did really good too, I bet this might get us a sponsor.”

Flicking him in the forehead, you tried to worm out of his hold but he kept a tight grip on you. You fought the urge to whine, knowing he’d just use it to his advantage.

“Let’s sit down.”

“No.” You tried to keep your feet firmly planted on the floor but Suguru wasn’t having any of it.

“Toga’s being stubborn!” He shouted to the chat. Bending his knees, Suguru dropped his arms to just under your butt and lifted you up.

“Dabi, put me down!” Squirming around was no use, but you knew this kind of reaction was great for the stream. Hitting him lightly on the back, you huffed when you were set down again and pulled into Sugurus lap.

“Look, you got chat all excited with your little act.” Pinching your cheek, Suguru smirked at you. “Hey (Y/N).”

“What?”

“Are you doing anything after the stream?” Grabbing your chin, he pushed your lips together, making you pucker a little. Staring at you for a beat, he let you go and laughed, sticking his tongue out at the camera. “I know you all are so jealous.”

“You shouldn’t be.” You quipped, grinning and laughing when he pinched your sides.

“Oh, they shouldn’t be? What about now?” Clearing his throat, Suguru put his mouth against his microphone and breathed lowly. “Thank you to all the bastards watching my stream, you’re so special to me. And a big thank you to my most recent sub, glitterkitty303, you’re the best baby.” His voice had dropped impossibly low, a voice he saved to fluster the hell out of you and get a few more bigger donations.

Breaking out into a smirk, he watched the chat roll by impossibly fast, all of the comments going insane, asking Suguru to say their username next and begging with donations for him to say something, anything, in that voice.

“How was that?” He asked you, looking at your flustered face on the screen. “How cute, you’re hiding your face.”

“Play the next game already.” Pushing his shoulder, you squeaked when he cupped the back of your head and leaned toward your ear.

“Chat, I want you to guess what I’m saying to (Y/N).” Pressing his lips against your ear, Suguru couldn’t hold back a little laugh at some of the messages coming in. “After this stream, let’s order pizza.” He whispered quietly, pulling back and patting your head. “Alright?”

“Alright.” You whispered, rolling your eyes at how embarrassed you still were.

“Good girl.” Rubbing your back, Suguru motioned off screen to another chair he had. “If you want, you can play the next game with me, we’re playing some Mario games next.”

After setting up for the next game and taking a short bathroom break, you were ready. The first game was mario kart, one you loved to play with Suguru because it meant nothing scary was going to happen.

“Ah shit, (Y/N) beat me again!” After doing four races and losing horribly on purpose, Suguru shook his head. “Alright guys, that’s it, my career is over. (Y/N) is taking over the channel!”

“Yay me.” You laughed, waving at the camera. “Hi guys, I don’t stream, so consider this channel dead.”

“Oof, so harsh.” Suguru gripped his chest, leaning back dramatically in agony.

After a few more rounds of mario kart and a couple other Nintendo games, you were finally allowed to leave with a cute wave to the camera and another round of thanking everyone. You were sweating bullets from the lights pointed at you and it felt good to finally be out of the room.

A few hours later, Suguru finished his stream and came to find you. He was obviously tired, stating that the two of you would just have to take the pictures before the next stream tomorrow. He often wore his costumes for at least a week, milking the reactions for all that he could.

“I never thought I’d see Dabi eating a pizza so savagely.” You chuckled. Suguru had demanded to order pizza before he washed off the makeup, he was too hungry to wait, and as soon as it had arrived he grabbed one of the boxes for himself and sat himself on the couch.

“Villainy is hungry work.” He grunted before shoving nearly a whole piece in his mouth. Grabbing your phone, you snapped a quick photo of him for your personal records and maybe a behind the scenes post for his Instagram.

You were still in your costume as well, prepared to take photos but now too lazy to change until after you ate. Suguru kept looking at you and grinning, taking quick glances at your legs before looking away.

“Why do you keep looking at me?”

“You’re just so cute dressed as Toga! And a couple people donated and asked if we would start an only fans. Seems I’m not the only one who likes the costume.”

“We are not making an only fans!” You laughed, shaking your head vehemently.

“Alright but can we take a few pictures not for Instagram?” He asked, sending you a wink. “I keep getting hard thinking about it.” He was completely serious but seeing your face contort in your embarrassment made him laugh.

“Maybe I should make an only fans and start charging you for pictures.” You teased back, nudging his shoulder. Suguru sneaked a kiss on your cheek and squeezed your thigh.

“You already know where my bank card is, go right ahead.” Keeping himself close to you, Suguru squeezed your thigh again. “Do you need a photographer, ‘cause I might know a guy…”

[gogiberries]

Hi so I’ve had this in my head for a few days now

It’s basically how i see the Nanami x Gojo relationship (but it’s more sad than anything else tbh)

⚠️ spoilers ahead for those who haven’t read the manga!

Please enjoy this disgustingly long thread <3

- okay so the way they started was out of convenience/ desperation

- Geto left the school and abandoned Gojo

- Nanami lost Haibara

- So the two ended up just trying to find some sense of comfort and understanding in each other

- Gojo was the one to start it though

- I see Nanami as the type to just suffer silently with his pain and loss, so Gojo had to have made the first move

- They were still students and now they had to pair up for training more often

- Gojo did consider Shoko before Nanami, but he knew that she wouldn’t give him any chance because she saw the start and finish of him and Geto

- Gojo also didn’t want to go to some stranger because he couldn’t lay it all out to someone who didn’t understand sorcery and explain the heavy chip Geto left on his shoulder

- So Nanami, the guy who also just lost someone & who is up to date with the Geto stuff is a perfect candidate for Gojo

- Gojo starts teasu Nanami about how he needs to get stronger during sparring

(this just pushes the “have get stronger for Haibara/ not end up like him” notion in Nanami’s head)

- And one day Gojo just switches to heavy flirting

- Nanami is like ‘???’ but he chalks it up to Gojo just being his weird self

- But the flirting continues

- And Gojo being Gojo, he just keeps getting more direct until one day he just flat out asks if Kento has thought about fucking him

- Despite the constant flirting and suggestive stuff Gojo has been doing, Nanami is completely thrown off

- “What the fuck are you saying” is probably what he’d say, a slight blush forming on his face

- “Cmon dont lie, you’re saying it hasn’t crossed your mind once or twice when we spar?” Gojo would tease

- And Nanami would immediately deny it

- And Gojo would push it even further and say

“oh? That’s too bad, cause I sure have thought about fucking you“

- Now Nanami is blushing hard, face feeling too hot

- “Quit saying nonsense and stop lying” Nanami is too strong willed to give into/ believe in Gojo’s offer

- “I’m not~ do you want me to prove I’m not?” Gojo is also too strong headed and now refuses to back down from this thing he started

- Nanami says no, but they can both hear the hesitation in his voice

- Gojo takes this sliver of a chance to kiss the blonde

- Nanami goes to pull him off, but he doesn’t.

- Why? He’s not sure either, maybe it’s because he’s still a bit inexperienced with all of this, or maybe because he’s willing to accept this- whatever this is that Gojo is offering to help distract him from the pain he’s still trying to cope with from losing Haibara

- So he only backs up slightly to tell Gojo they should go somewhere more private

After that, their relationship, if you want to call it that for lack of a better term, begins

- Gojo definitely is the one who takes the most in this relationship

- At first, when he was trying to keep Nanami from regretting his actions and running away, Gojo was gentle and kind. Making sure Nanami felt understood and comfortable with their actions

- But once Gojo saw Nanami was staying, his caring attitude slowly faded

- He would stay to cuddle afterwards, but only until Nanami was asleep, leaving him to wake up by himself in the morning

[ maybe once in a while Gojo would leave a “Sorry I got called in for some mission” half assed excuse ]

- Not by force, but Gojo would make sure he’d get his needs met before Nanami did (definitely half assed in trying to meet Kento’s needs)

- Nanami isn’t stupid, he noticed the change in Gojo’s behavior early on, but being the masochist that he is, he put up with it because it still felt better than remembering Haibara and dealing with that

- Kento definitely noticed when Gojo was at his worst though. When Gojo was okay, he’d put up his usual goofy & cool dude front, and be selfish in bed, leaving the second they were done as if he was too “cool” and “strong” to show sad emotions.

- But when Gojo was really down and haunted with memories of Geto, he would stay the whole night.

- Gojo would be more gentle and slow with his actions, he wasn’t going out of his way to fully please Kento, but it was more like a sympathetic “c’mere let me do it for you” offer

- on those nights, after they were done, Gojo would lay there and hold-genuinely hold- Nanami.

- Nanami could see the accumulated exhaustion and pain in Gojo’s eyes on those days, and like Gojo, he wouldn’t go out of his way to help him. He might offer to be the bigger spoon or not question it when he stayed till morning, but Kento never would ask Gojo if he wanted to talk about it.

- Nanami would also allow himself to be selfish and enjoy the softer and more affectionate actions Gojo would do during these days

The sense of comfort and understanding they felt with one another was odd and definitely unhealthy, but it was better than being left alone with their own thoughts.

And it continued until Gojo was finally graduating and Nanami decided to share the news that he was going to start interning at some office

Gojo was taken back a bit by the announcement. Kento seemed like he would’ve just done the expected thing of graduating and going straight into sorcery work.

- “You really don’t like this sorcery stuff huh?” He’d probably ask him

- “It's all a bunch of shit” definitely a Nanami response

- Gojo was pretty indifferent in Kento’s post graduation plans, so he only gave him and understanding nod

During Nanami’s final year at the tech school, the two drifted apart without much trouble

- Maybe once in a while, when they were both overworked and stressed by their new schedules, they’d come back for one night to each another.

- It wasn’t much different than what they already had though

- Gojo would still only care about getting his first, and Nanami would use the time to space off and just distract himself from his reality

After Nanami graduated and started his salaryman career, their meetups stopped for a good while.

- Besides the fact that the two were now working even crazier schedules, Nanami was the one who wanted to full on quit.

- He was done with jujutsu tech & sorcery, and as he’s done with everything else in his life, he ran away from it

- He’d ignore Gojo’s out of the blue texts, or just give short and dry responses

- Gojo wasn’t really hurt about it, there weren’t any deep emotions formed below the surface of what he and Kento had.

- Though Gojo was very close to calling Nanami the day he dealt with Geto

But just how they were a few years ago as students, the two adults ended up back where they started, in an emotional void induced by stress and the years long accumulation of unattended issues that neither one of them knew how to handle.

- Nanami tried to quit, he really did. But going to company speed dating parties and or blind dates set up by coworkers was too much trouble for him. He was working way over 40hrs a week and had no time to develop a healthy relationship with someone.

- After some big deal falling through with his job, Nanami did what most adults who have little to no healthy coping skills would do. Get drunk and call his fuck buddy

- Gojo thought it was a mistake when Nanami sent him a text with only an address

- Gojo, also having almost no healthy coping skills, immediately called Nanami back to see what the text was about

- And oh.

- Nanami did send it on purpose

- Well. Who was Gojo to say no to a free night of being distracted with no strings attached?

Aaaaaand they were back, dancing the same dance they have been for years.

- Somewhere within those meetups, Gojo finally shared what happened to Geto.

- Nanami didn’t say much, he only said enough to convince Gojo that tonight wasn’t going to go as they usually do.

- Instead Nanami allowed Gojo to drink and let out any and all emotions he had about the incident.

- Gojo was embarrassed the next day thinking about what all he probably said. But he was grateful Nanami chose to be the responsible one and be next to him as he aired out his feelings

- Nanami never brought up that night’s conversation details to Gojo. He just let that night be what it was and moved on (the best thing for the both of them, more so for Gojo tbh)

Now present time, they still do their usual meetups, but maybe it’s the years of life slowly sanding them down because now, it feels more like a weird check up with one another than just a quick hookup

- It started with them just getting drinks for the night, nothing happened, they both just got drunk and passed out in Gojo’s Living room

- Then it slowly progressed from getting a quick bite to eat, to having planned dinners together

- Sometimes it leads to something, sometimes it doesn’t.

- Is it healthier than what they were doing at the beginning? Not really.

- They still don’t share their feelings that openly nor do they go out of their ways to comfort each other.

- But I guess just the mutual understanding from someone who has also lived through some fucked up stuff quietly sharing a drink or meal with you is somewhat comforting and helps you stay grounded.

End.