#bc I won't be interested in talking about anything else | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ineffable-romantics · 9 months

Text

Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:

This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:

First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)

These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.

I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.

This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.

Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.

This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.

If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.

With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.

Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can

Food

Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).

This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.

Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.

(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)

Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.

The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.

And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.

It's What Humans Do

In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).

He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).

What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.

But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.

Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?

Angels, Demons, & Asexuality

Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.

Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)

And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).

The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.

I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.

Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.

Except...

Brielzebub

We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.

For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.

And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).

Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.

Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.

Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction

But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?

And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.

At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).

So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?

I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.

After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)

Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.

However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".

Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.

I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.

But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.

(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)

More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.

Aziraphale's Hedonism

Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.

It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.

Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.

Dancing

I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.

I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.

We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.

(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)

As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.

Love Languages

I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.

We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.

You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.

The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).

And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.

So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.

So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.

"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"

Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.

First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")

(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)

More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.

Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.

The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).

Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.

Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.

The Birds & The Bees

Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.

Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.

Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.

The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma

The Kiss. Where to even begin?

This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.

It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.

Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.

Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.

So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.

I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.

What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.

All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.

(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)

Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).

Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.

In Conclusion

I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.

So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.

You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.

But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.

___________________________________

Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post

2K notes · View notes

bizbat · 3 months

Note

your jason todd hcs are sooooo good omg!!! do you have any hcs specifically for when he has a crush on the reader, like how he might act, specifically if the reader is oblivious and really doesn’t think that she’s his type / thinks he’s joking if he says anything flirty?

When They're In Love - Jason Todd (Crush Edition)

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms + Pet names used for reader.

~ You can find part one of these hcs here, and part two here.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ These can be read as a sort of part three/prequel kinda.

~Fic at the end.

~ Tw for : Blood, Knives, Needles, Vomit. (All slight)

~Thank you for asking! Hope you enjoy, sorry this took so long :(

You would never know that Jason has a crush on you.

For the most part, he wont talk to you any differently than he will anyone else.

Maybe he won't jokingly insult you, or be super sarcastic around you, but I think that's kind of as far as he'd go.

Unless you're a close friend or family member, you'd probably have no clue he had a crush based on the way he talks to you.

But the little actions and things he does for you are so obvious.

He's the type to hold open doors for you, all the while staring other people dead in the eye as it shuts in their face.

He somehow always just "randomly" has your favorite snack on hand, or a whole collection of books by your favorite author.

I think he'd be touchy, unless he knows you don't like being touched.

If you like or don't mind it, he'd have his arm constantly thrown over your shoulder, always be leaning against you, always resting a hand on your hip.

If you're shorter than him, he does that super annoying thing where he rests his elbow on your head.

He is so lame omg.

But bc he's kinda like this with everyone, no one would fault you for not understanding his hints.

He's like the opposite though.

You said hi to him this morning? You must be in love with him.

You smiled at him today instead of Dick? He's already planning the wedding.

What's that? You said he smells nice? Have his babies. (If you can/want to)

Our delusional king.

He doesn't think you don't get his flirting.

He'd think you're fully aware and are flirting back.

Again, our delusional king.

You probably won't get it until something really serious happens and he comes to you instead of Bruce or Roy.

He'd probably try to get into things you're interested in.

Listens to all your favorite songs, reads your favorite books, etc.

And he's not subtle about it bc he is in fact, a loser.

He'll recommend a song by your favorite artist and then be like "idk why but this just reminded me of you lol"

LOSER. Can you guys tell i'm a big believer in the "jason todd is secretly a massive loser" agenda? Cuz I am. :|

And then he listens when you go on rambles about how great the things you like are and how much they mean to you.

I said he'll do things just to hear you talk about them, and I think he'd do that when he has a crush on you too.

He just loves your voice and likes hearing you talk.

He smiles at you so softly when he thinks you aren't looking.

You could be bumming out and he'll look at you with heart eyes like yeah, future spouse right there.

I don't think he'd be a big user of social media, but if you were, he'd get a whole account just to like and comment of your pictures.

user94820860038466 commented: You look very pretty in this picture.

Comments like an old man bc he has very little understanding of the internet.

He'd probably help you take pictures and fight with other people in your comment section if they're too down bad or creepy.

He doesn't strike me as the jealous type bc once again, he's so delusional he pretty much already thinks you're dating.

Nicknames nicknames nicknames.

Calls you so, so many nicknames.

Angel, doll, sweetheart, maybe even babe.

He constantly talks about you when you aren't there.

Lian and Roy know so much about you before they even meet you.

He'd do anything for you.

The store is actually about a mile in the other direction, but yeah he can get you your favorite drink.

He does not like that food at all and the owner of the store despises him, but he will not return to you empty handed best believe.

He was actually going to wear that hoodie today, but it looks so much better on you you should keep it!

~ Drabble Starts Here. ~

It's just like every other night in Gotham City. It's cold, and wet, and it smells like smoke and garbage that's been left out in the sun.

The only barrier between you and the chilled, musty air outside is a single sheet of glass; the fire escape window of your fifth floor apartment. It's comforting. The glass is, of course, bulletproof, and the seal around the sill is tight, so no gases ever manage seep in. It pays to have a decent landlord, especially in Gotham.

It's funny, but you really never think about that window. You mostly keep it shut and locked, except in the summer, when you can smell your neighbor in the building next door cooking all types of delicious aromatic dishes, or when it's just too hot and you decide the risk of heatstroke is greater than the risk of airborne psychosis. It never occurs to you just how well it keeps you safe, just how well it keeps things out.

It occurs to Jason, though. In fact, it's the only thing on his mind as he's gripping his side, frantically trying to prevent too much blood from seeping out of his body.

He'll probably chastise himself later for not being more gentle or respectful, but he's lost too much blood to be thinking straight. With his free hand, he bangs on your window, praying that you're A) at home, and B) not listening to music. He's not too worried about the first one, he knows you never leave your lights on when you're away, but the second one, he's not too sure about.

He bangs, and bangs, and bangs on the glass, a loud, thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk that immediately rouses your from your sleep. You jump up from your spot on the couch, an open book falling from your lap as you dart into your room to grab the knife Jay gave you for protection, before returning to your living room, keeping your back to the wall.

You hold the blade in front of you, nervously gripping the hilt as you listen to the banging, making sure to stay just out of sight as you cautiously creep closer and closer to the noise. It isn't until the banging dies down that you finally get close enough to see the cause.

You gasp at the sight, dropping the knife and trying to tug the window open, before mentally yelling at yourself to unlock it. You drag the weakened behemoth of a man into your apartment, carefully placing his upper body on the floor in front of your window and removing his helmet. Your hand moves to his side, firmly pressing down on his wound, as you stare at him, mouth agape and eyes flooding with concern.

He laughs, a dry chuckle that just sounds like it hurts. "What took ya' doll?" You wanna smack him, but you can do that when he's not bleeding all over your hardwood floors. You tell him to wait, as if he could go anywhere in the state he's in, before rushing to grab the emergency kit he forced you to keep.

"Let-ngh- let me do it." He groans as he attempts to sit up, trying and failing to pull the tweezers from your hand. He doesn't even have the strength to sit back up when you gently push him back down. You clean his wound, all while he holds back winces and groans. You don't hold back, focusing on cutting and cleaning and stitching and wrapping, berating Jason for coming to you of all people.

"What d'ya mean? Of course I'd come to you?" Jason manages between harsh breaths. "Who else would I go to?" He seems genuinely confused, you're his girlfriend, you always come to him when you need help. Why wouldn't he come to you?

"Oh, I don't know, Jason, maybe Bruce, or Roy, or literally anyone else with training to handle this kind of thing!?" It comes out mean, but through his pain he can tell it's coming from a place of true care. You're worried. One of the strongest, most skilled people you know is bleeding out on your floor and you're panicking. Of course you are, you've never had to sew someone up, or dig a bullet out of someone, or try to hold down bile from the heavy smell of blood.

Your hands are shaking like crazy. This isn't a slight graze you can put a bandaid over and seal with a kiss, this is a life threatening wound on someone you care about, and all they've been doing since they came to you is make stupid fucking jokes and try to take things from your hands.

Jason can tell it's getting to you.

It should be the other way around, what with him bleeding out in your living room, but he quiets down, gripping your wrist with his non-blood covered hand. "Hey," He gently strokes your skin with his thumb, repeating himself when you don't move your eyes from his wound. "Hey, look at me Y/n." It's just stern enough to make you obey, without sounding like he's mad at you. "It'll be okay. I'm in good hands." Jason smiles at you, tired and reassuring. It calms your nerves just enough for you to finish sewing his wound shut.

You sit back when you're done, taking in your work once you wrap his stomach with gauze. Jason turns just enough to catch a glimpse, smiling up at you with his stupid, charming smirk. "Not bad, doll. Told ya you had it covered." He lays back, smiling up at you as he lays his head on his arm, the one on his non-injured side. Though he doesn't seem to bothered by the end of it all, you can't say the same.

He takes in your features, your tired, glossy eyes and your pouting lips. It makes his smile drop. You look away, your sad eyes not meeting his own. "I . . . what? What's wrong Y/n?" Jason winces, moving to rest on his elbows to get a better look at your face. "Was it the blood? Or the- was it the window? I'm sorry about that, by the way." You shake your head no at all of his suggestions, taking a breath before turning back to face him.

He can feel his heart hurt at the sight of unshed tears in your eyes. "I . . . I was scared Jay." He pushes himself all the way up when you take your lip into your mouth. He ignores the pain shooting through his side when he pulls you into his arms. "Hey, hey, hey, scared of what? I'm okay. You did good." Those tears finally spill when your arms wrap around his waist, loose as to not further irritate his wound.

"You could've died Jay, a-and I wouldn't be able to-to help you! I can't help you!" You sob into his shoulder. He holds you tightly, pressing his lips to your head as he rubs your back. "Please, please don't cry. I'm okay now, you helped me. I'm all better now." He rocks you both gently, trying to console you. "Sides, if I was gonna die, I'd be happy if it was with my girl."

What?

You freeze in his arms, and he knows he said something wrong. He just doesn't know what. His brain moves a mile a minute as he tries to figure out what it was before you get even more upset. Though, his brain completely shuts down when you stare up at him with those cute, confused eyes. The tears have slowed down, and he's at least thankful for that. "Your . . . girl?" Now he's confused too. "What-what do you mean by that?"

He has to do a double take. "What do you mean? You're my girl, like . . . girlfriend, you know?" Every second that passes only confuses the two of you more. "I'm your girlfriend?" "Ar-aren't you?" You blink at him. Were you? Are you? "Am I?" Somewhere there was cognitive dissonance, Jason just doesn't know for who. "Yeah, we're dating, I thought?" Though, he doesn't feel so confident about that now.

"Oh," You feel your ears grow warm, for the second time now your eyes don't meet his own. "I . . . I didn't know that." You wish you could hide right now, but he's still got his arms wrapped around you. "I mean, unless you don't want to, then-then I'm sorry-" Jason feels maybe even more embarrassed than you as he finally drops his arms, grabbing his helmet and moving to crawl back out the window he came in through. His bullet wound is completely forgotten by now.

He stops when you grip his jacket, shyly staring at the floor as you speak. "No! I w-want to." Your eyes darty up to his, before losing confidence and dropping back to the floor. "I want to be your girlfriend," It comes out a whisper, and when he's silent for a beat too long you worry he's suddenly changed his mind.

"Good. Great. Yeah." He drops back to the floor, sitting cross legged beside you. Internally, he's doing backflips in his mind. "Cool." Later on, he'll ask more questions, but for now, he's satisfied. "Yeah." You shyly play with your clothes, twiddling your thumbs as you sit in silence. You feel like a little girl who just admitted to her crush that she likes him. "Are you-" "I didn't-" You interrupt each other, both of you gesturing for the other to continue. It's a bit of a fight, but Jason makes you go first.

"I was gonna ask if you were hungry. I have some, um, pretzels and stuff. If you want." Jason nods. He follows you into your kitchen, where the two of you quietly and contently eat the iron rich foods you looked up. "What were you going to say, by the way?"

Jason looks up from his plate, the haphazardly prepared meal helping him feel better, though his heart feels pretty good right now anyways. "I didn't know that you didn't know. I thought," he laughs nervously. "I thought, we were dating this whole time." He laughs again when you shake your head. "I didn't know! I thought . . . I don't know, that I wasn't your type, or something."

That's probably the most surprising thing he's heard you say today. Okay it's not, but it's the thing that most catches him off guard.

"Of course you are! You're so sweet, and cute, and nice, and pretty, and you smell really good, and you're funny, and I like your voice, and the way you d-do things . . . and . . . other stuff." Jason stops himself before he can ramble for hours about every single things he loves about you. You wouldn't mind if he did, though. You hide your pleased expression with your hand.

"Me too." It's quiet, but no longer shy. "I like all that "stuff" about you too."

#bizbat #dc #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanons #dc headcanon #red hood x reader #red hood #jason todd #dc x reader #lian harper #roy harper

452 notes · View notes

crazyk-imagine · 4 months

Text

Mean

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Fem!reader

Characters: Fem!reader, Paul Lahote, Sam Uley, Emily Young, Jared Cameron, Embray Call, Tiny Tim (made up)

Warnings: Reader knows about the supernatural, implications of dead parent, ex's inspire people, Sam and Emily are adorable, am I making them my favorites bc of the way I write them lol, Paul and Reader are adorable, Paul is a little shit, so is Embry and Jared, no one can act normal around a sassy person

Word Count: 1,231

A/N: Was I listening to Mean by Taylor Swift? You can't prove anything

I've had this ready for a week, but shit kept happening at work man ughhhhhh

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was meant to be, or so you thought.

You blink, staring at the ceiling not sure why your ex came to mind.

He was partial to the reason for your move the gloomy town (which you enjoyed more than the sunny state you were in) but not the entire reason.

If only your mom could see you now, working hard and still keeping true to who you are.

You push yourself out of bed, needing to get started on your day.

You finish up and jot down another line, knowing it's slowly turned into a "revenge" song.

You exit your place and hop in your truck, heading down to your favorite person's place.

"Emily, your other honey is home."

Sam lets out a dry laugh. "Funny as always."

"I know, it's one of the perks of being my friend."

"Are going to do..." You snatch a muffin from the tray. "Sam things?"

The couple glance at one another, curious if you know.

"Yeah, we won't be back till later-" He doesn't finish as the boys burst through the door. Almost all ignore you, not aware of your presence.

You mumble, "now I know why you're ready to feed an army."

The boys freeze, all conversations stopping. "Uh-"

"Who's the girl?" Jared asks, snaking a muffin.

You raise a brow, picking at the muffin, breaking it into bite size pieces. "What a question."

"Who's the sassy girl?" The same guy asks.

"How do you deal with idiots?"

Emily snickers, scanning over the pack for their expressions.

"Good thing Paul's not here or else he'd flip a lid," Embry mutters.

You push yourself off the stool and grab your bag. "Later, Em. Bye bye, Sammy."

You wave them off before glancing at the group. "Such an interesting... gang you have here."

You spin around, smirking to yourself, not wanting to let the cat (wolf) out of its bag. "I heard there's going to be a full moon tonight."

Or maybe you don't care if they know you know.

"Does she-"

The door slams shut.

You shake your head, smirking to yourself, proud of your teasing. You bump into a body, not entirely paying attention. "Sorry." You pass by the person and hop in your car, not realizing the electricity he felt in that simple touch.

You look up after putting your keys in the ignition, only to find a dark pair of eyes on yours.

The subtle feeling through your body alerts you.

"Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap." You have to force your gaze away from his. "Please don't be able to read lips. Oh, crap. They can hear." You start pulling out and make it back to your house.

Weeks go by and you screen another one of Emily's calls.

"I'll call her when this passes," you mutter, writing another line. You slam your pencil down, "who am I kidding? It's never going to stop."

You don't want to answer her and send another lie.

Boo Thang #2 <;3

'Sorry, not feeling good. Will text later.' 2:59pm Sent Read

A knock on your door surprises you.

You carefully make your way to the door, scanning through the peephole. Your back's flat against the door. "Why the hell is he here?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't think so."

"You know more than you let on."

"So?"

"We need to talk."

"Can I just call you?"

"No, Emily's been trying for days, and it hasn't worked. Let me in."

You scoff, "not with that attitude."

He growls under his breath, "fine. Please let me in?"

"No."

"You're testing my patience."

"Go test it out with someone else."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"You gotta be more specific bud."

"I don't like that name."

"Bud?"

"Stop it."

You smirk, "bud."

He knocks on your door with more force, trying to get one of your neighbors to come out so they can tell him to stop and make you let him in.

You snarl as the door swings open, "stop it you, idiot." You yank him in, earning a confident smirk from him.

"I don't like this look on you. You think you've won."

"Who says I haven't?"

"Me. I am the one who decides since this is my place."

"Living here alone? Really?"

You shrug, "parents died."

"Oh," he clears his throat, "sorry."

"It's fine. Not your fault."

"So, uh- what do you know?"

"I used to visit when I was a kid and heard the stories because of my cousin."

"You know?"

"That we happen to be united forever essentially, kind of hard not to, not gonna lie."

"Are you upset?"

You furrow your brows, "what do you mean?"

"Your imprints with the hothead. The one with "anger" issues. The list goes on." His brows furrow in annoyance, the pout on his lip making him look... cute.

"Who?"

He shocked you don't know who he is. "Lahote?"

"Paul?" You ask, not entirely sure if you got the right name or not.

"Oh, so you do know."

He sighs, "great."

"Barely, I just remember your guy's names from the elders at the meetings."

"How long has it been since you were in town?"

You shrug, "few years. I haven't been out of the house as much since my life went to crap," you offer a sarcastic smile.

"I feel like I've brought the mood down, do you- do you want to go out? I know this one place with uh- with decent music." He tells you the name and it takes all of you to not smile.

"Let's go, but we take my car."

He lets out a dramatic sigh, "fine."

You two arrive half an hour before you have to go on stage.

You make up an excuse and say you're going to be right back, needing to use the little girl's room.

"Next up, is one of our favorites," the mc, Tiny Tim (your favorite guy there) announces.

You walk across stage, confusing Paul but not Emily and Sam (who told him to take you there if he got far enough). They cheer you on while listening to your song.

All you are is mean And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean

You make it back to your seat beside your wolf.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

You shrug, not liking the attention on you.

"That was- that was amazing."

"It was nothing."

"No- no, that was really good." Emily sneaks up behind you. "And that's saying something, Paul doesn't like to use his words to express his emotions."

The man frowns. "We get it. We get it."

You roll your eyes, "stop it, you two."

You two make it back your place. "I should at least drop you off."

He shakes his head, "I'm not that far from you."

"I don't know if I believe that."

"Then believe ne when I say I can run and not get tired."

You narrow your eyes before turning your head to hide your chuckle. "Get out of here, you idiot."

You hear him close the door and stare into the woods, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The only wolf standing between the path of trees sticks out and you know it's him.

You shake your head, going into your home. "Idiot."

You swear you hear him huff.

#twilight #twilight wolfpack #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #twilight x reader #twilight x you #twilight imagines #twilight imagine #paul lahote #paul lahote imagines #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote fanfiction #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x reader #crazyk-imagine

367 notes · View notes

golbrocklovely · 9 months

Text

dating colby headcannon

requested by anonymous: Could you possible write a dating Colby headcannon with the reader? Thank uuu

A/N: even tho i'm not taking requests, i figured i can do this real quick since it's a headcannon and i'm in the middle of finishing up the next chapter of the chosen daughter. so hopefully this holds yall over a bit longer while i finish that up :) and this is all gender neutral so anyone can read it ! lmk what you think and hope you enjoy.

let's start with how you two met: i think you being a friend of a friend would be how it all starts.

maybe this friend in common gets invited to a party that snc are at, and you tag along. you get introduced to colby, and yall hit it off.

colby is very much into vibes and how well he meshes with another person. so for him to be interested, he has to like being around you. that man does not waste his time around people he doesn't care about.

and i think with colby, things would start off PAINSTAKINGLY SLOW. if you're into a slow burn… that's what your life will be like lol

colby hasn't dated in a long time, it's been almost exclusively hook ups and situationships. so i think the beginning stages will be a bit rough (in more ways than one *wink wink nudge nudge*). i think it would take a long time before anything major happened, just because he's not used to being vulnerable with someone.

that being said, i can see him hooking up with you once or twice before anything serious even remotely starts, since that's his usual go-to method. that doesn't have to be all the way - it could be like making out in the club or in a house party bathroom. a little hidden, a bit secretive, but that makes it all the more fun. it's exciting because he makes you feel like you are the sun in his galaxy, even if it's just for a few minutes. that's how intense he can be.

and maybe you realize, "oh shit i got feelings for him…. will this ever turn into something more?" and that's when you start hanging out with him more, or at least making plans to.

and i think as time goes on, he grows attached to you (because he is a clingy person, respectfully). and he enjoys the parts of his day when he gets to see you. and that's when he starts to feel the sparks. but knowing him, he probably won't act on them for a while.

but slowly, you two get really close, and eventually try to start something. once he can feel his walls crumble, and yours are also down, that's when yall truly start to have a wonderful relationship.

so as for dating him, what do i think that would be like?

colby is very busy guy, no surprising to anyone. so it's hard for yall to hang out as often as you want to (which would be like everyday if you could, and same goes for him).

but colby finds ways of seeing you or talking to you at least once a day.

even if it's just to check in on you, or ask you about your day. colby also likes to tell you about the stuff he was up to, give you little heads up on new projects before anyone else. but only when he knows they're happening bc he doesn't like talking about things that might not happen. very earth sign of him lol

i don't see him sending 'good morning' messages, but i could see him sending 'goodnight' ones. definitely with a black heart emoji somewhere thrown in there.

oooh, pet names. i'm seeing him using baby, babe, darling, sweetheart, love, and possibly honey. especially when he's drunk, he's extra affectionate.

when he goes on investigations, he comes back and HAS to tell you everything. he also loves being around you after because you make him feel so comfortable and at home. and he needs that after being paranormally hungover.

if you go with him on trips… omg, he will be protective. for sure. checking in on how you're feeling every couple minutes.

and if you get really scared, he's ready to send you home. he doesn't want to see you hurt or terrified at all. so sometimes he isn't the most favorable towards you going with him (unless you insist).

yall's biggest past time together: cuddling.

that man needs cuddles, AT LEAST, once a day. otherwise, he will be whiny lol (he might not show it at first, but once he's comfortable, he's gonna be a baby about cuddles, guarantee).

he needs to be touching you at all times, whether out in public or not. he doesn't seem like a crazy PDA type, so nothing too ~sexual~, but he will be holding your hand every chance he gets.

unless, of course, he's feeling a bit frisky… then you run the chance of having to go home early or finding a private area to have your fun sksks

i see him being the type to wrap his arms around you from behind, pulling you tight against him. especially if you're waiting in like a long line or something. he just wants you in his arms whenever he can.

like i mentioned before, he is a very busy man. so i see him doing a lot of at home dates. making pizzas together (or just dinners in general), setting up little pillow forts for movie nights, cute vibes all around. omg and of course - LOTS of camping outside and staring at the stars and talking for hours. that's 1000% for sure.

and maybe if you're the type that likes hiking, maybe you guys would go hiking together.

but i do see him also taking you out to exclusive clubs, bars, and restaurants since he has the hookup and the following to get into places that are new.

emotionally, i think you two would be so deeply into each other. i think being understanding and just getting one another is something major he wants in a relationship. so i think always being open and honest would be the main center point of your relationship.

he wants no drama, and wants love to come easy. and most likely you feel the same way, which is why you guys mesh well together.

physically… i mean, cmon. look at the material lol

he's definitely wants to make sure your needs are met. he's a people pleaser after all. and if you're his person, he's making sure you're pleased.

he's a very giving lover, is all i'm gonna say ;)

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock headcannon #colby brock fic #colby brock fluff #what you seek

521 notes · View notes

delicatereader · 6 months

Text

I need you (stephen!hayden x reader)

• summary: Stephen is a little rusty in sex and needs some help

• warnings: well smut

• a/n: this is about hayden/stephen not the actual one. I didn't go deep with the smut bc I am just getting the hang of it so yea. enjoy! (btw I haven't proof read it so there are mistakes...

➽────────────────────────────❥

You've had an exhausting day at work, unfortunately you have to work overnight. All you want is a get away from this shit. There were only few others with you left. You peacefully working in your space, reading reports in your spinning chair when Stephen comes in.

He hastily grabs a chair and pulls it next to you to sit. You ignore him because you what was coming, he's gonna rant about how everyone thinks he's gay and no one likes him. You didn't think that way, you've had a cute crush on him for a while but didn't do anything because you worked with him and didn't have the time. You've always liked the way he talks and his glasses (you found them slutty and hot).

"What do you think of me?" he asks

"What do you mean?" you try to confirm, still reading the reports

"What do you think me?"

"You're kind, generous and hard-working!" you reply looking at him

"No like what do you think of me?" he repeats

You let out a harsh sigh annoyed.

"Like physically, do you find me attractive?" he blurts out

"What?" you respond in surprise

"Like am I attractive?" he asks again

"Yeah? why? did someone say anything to you?" you ask him concerned

"No..." he drags

"Spill" you demand

"Ok! It's been a while since you know..." he says

"What? I don't know"

"Since you know!" he looks at his pants and back up (twice)

"Sex?" you answer

"Shhhhh!" he silences you, making you giggle

"Someone will hear you! But yeah since I had sex" he continues

"So you want to start having sex again?" you ask

"Well yeah! It's been a long time" he admits

"How long?" you ask curiously

"Ummm...2 years?"

"What!? 2 years?! omg!" you yell whilst whispering

"I'm a bit rusty..." he says

You scoff as a response, "you will be"

"Oh shut up!" he responds

"Can't belive it! 2 years!" you laugh out loud

"Yep..." he says embarrassed, nodding his head

"Ok I won't laugh! I promise! you speak" you take a deep breath

"So everyone thinks I'm gay, I accidentally let people- no men stick their tongue down my throat and the girls I get run away when they hear the gay rumours" he explains his situation

"Well they just haven't seen your search history! trust me your straight!!" you confirm for him.

He leans back on the chair shocked

"How do you know my search history?"

"The other week you left early and forgot to log out. I did it for you" you smile at him proudly

"Anyways what am I supposed to do about this? I have some friends who might be interested..." you advise resting your head on you palms.

"No" he replies instantly

"Then?" you ask raising your eyebrows waiting for some details

"I need you" he mutters

"What?" you yell in shock

"You. I mean I don't know anyone else better. I'm close to you so it won't be that awkward!" he explains further

"What?! I can't!"

"Yes you can. Nat, Smith and Jade are leaving right now" he says placing a hand on your lap

"What?" as you respond you hear an elevator reach your floor seeing your colleagues leave

"It's just us! please!" he begs. You could see the desperation in his eyes.

"If I agree to this..." you drag

"I'll owe you a million" he offers

"Fine" you shrug even though you've wanted him for so long, you put on a act.

He instantly gets off the chair and kisses you

"Is that ok?" he asks

You nod in response

His kisses get more passionate and confident. His lips are awfully soft. His hands travel from your lap to your cheeks. He starts to kiss your neck, but whilst leaving a trail of kisses from behind your ear to you collarbone you get up and turn so he is in the chair. You're sat on his lap legs on both sides of him. He slips his around your waist and let's them travel your back and slip through your hair.

You pull his dark blonde curls, making him whimper. "You like that?"

The only response you got was a moan.

He starts to unbutton your shirt kissing your chest and around your bra. You follow his actions and pull his shirt off. He takes your bra off and kisses your breasts.

You slowly start to grind on him, making his head fall back in pleasure. "Fuck y/n!"

His breath starts to get heavier. He pulls his hand from your waist to tale off his glasses. Suddenly, you stop him.

"Whay are you doing?"

"Taking of my glasses?"

You lean against his mouth with a smirk

"The glasses stays on" you demand

"You have a thing for glasses?" He asks, locking his lips with a smile and carrying pire lust in his eyes.

"Shut up!" you say rolling your eyes at him whilst giggling

"We'll see who needs to shut up after this" he says with a mischievous smile leaning back in to kiss you

#hayden christensen #stephen glass #stephen glass hayden #shattered glass #hayden christensen smut #hayden x reader #anakin skywalker #fanfic #hayden christensen fanfic #aaron warner #smut #fanfiction

387 notes · View notes

ezshellshocked · 12 days

Text

⚡︎ ┊ TMNT : Finalized designs & Headcannons.

⚡︎ ┊ Finished my official designs, now I can make comics and such without them looking different every time. !! HEADCANNONS BELOW IMAGE, FOR ANYONE INTERESTED.

⚡︎ ┊ HEADCANNONS.

Leonardo

Cannot be sneaked up on (Will catch whoever tries)

Lots of night terrors

Light sleeper

Loves bubblegum

Superiority complex

Talks to himself out loud

Really good at lying (Best liar in the family)

Always smells good

Very overprotective (especially over Mikey bc he's the youngest)

Annoying older brother vibes

Argues with Raph the most

Sleeps with one eye open (literally)

Allergic to dogs

Only turtle who CAN cook

Can't watch horror films (they freak him out)

"IDC" Thinks about it for hours

"I'm not scared!" Freaks out

Hates bugs

Raphael

LOVES Halloween. (Has decorations all over his room)

Heavy sleeper

Snores but says he doesn't

Mr.Sarcastic

Picks on Don the most

Swears in nearly every sentence

Metalhead

Bedroom? No, Mancave. (Barely leaves his room)

Talented artist

Plays the bass guitar

JUGALLO RAPH REAL!!

Hates everything and everyone.

Edgy middle child attitude

"IDGAF!!" Starts crying

Likes Mikey more bc he can playfight rough with him.

True crime >>>

Horror movies >>>

Works out to calm himself down

Only shows his "cool" art to his brothers, keeps everything else hidden

Always looks angry no matter what

Can't control his tone of voice (Speaks really loudly, and aggressively)

Hates being told what to do

Deathly terrified of roaches

Missing a tooth (From a fight with leo)

Donatello

Very very VERY tired

Mr.Fix-it

Germaphobe

Neat-freak

Really picky with food

Won't eat spaghetti or most noodles bc it reminds him of worms

Hates wearing most clothes because they make him feel trapped

Gets hiccups when nervous

Doesn't drink coffee, though likes energy drinks

Must double check everything a billion times

Throws a fit when someone messes with his plans, or things

Swears as much as Raph

RARELY in his room, mostly in his lab.

Hates the smell of dust, sage, and greasy food

Likes collecting pens

MOOD SWING KING!!

Paranoid all the time

Insomniac

Almost always accidentally falls asleep in his lab.

Sticky notes, sticky notes, sticky notes

Can only draw mechs and vehicles, cant draw anything else

" We're poor as dirt " Has thousands of dollars hidden in his room.

Has to wear glasses but doesn't around his brothers (they pick on him :( )

Likes psychological horror better than visual horror.

Slouch king

yells a LOT

Listens to techno music when making inventions

#1 oingo boingo fan

Has slight bucked teeth

Speaks with a lisp

Michelangelo

Spoiled younger brother vibes

Loves video games

A LITERAL GOD AT DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION

Hates being left alone, or away from his brothers for long periods of time

ALWAYS asking Donatello for money (usually a yes)

LOVES candy (especially sour)

Borrows April's camcord to take stupid videos

Cracks every bone in his body when nervous

"The vibes are off right now…"

" Dudezz!! " " Chill out brozz " type of guy

Wears braces!

Always doing stupid shit

PRANK LORD

#ILOVEBEINGATURTLE!!!!

Sings in the shower

Puts on whole concerts for no reasons

Plays the drums

LOVES play fighting with Raph

Likes cooking, but cant do it good.

"CAN WE KEEP IT!!"

"I licked it, it's mine"

Steals from everyone, thinks its funny

Hides Donnie's tools for fun

Talks too fast

#digital art #artists on tumblr #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #tmnt redesign #tmnt design #tmnt headcanons #tmnt 2012 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo

64 notes · View notes

faulty-writes · 1 month

Note

Oh oh I’ve got one! Vash Stampede flirting/dating a shy reader headcannons ♥️ please and thank you (sorry had to resend bc I was afraid my asks wasn’t sent)

It's cool dear anon. I'm so excited, my very first Trigun Stampede request! Please let me know how I did, I adore Stampede Vash but I absolutely love the Vash from the 1998 TV series. Not to say the Vash from Stampede isn't loveable, he's downright adorable. But I don't know, right now I'm a sucker for 98' Vash. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this request and please don't hesitate to request more if you happen to like it <3

"Come on needle noggin!" Wolfwood snapped after punching Vash in the head. "Just go over there and say hello! It's not like your dumbass hasn't talked to worse. You've stared at them enough to make a point!" While Vash didn't necessarily agree with Wolfwood, it was true that he had fixated on you recently.

"H-hi there!" were the first words he had spoken to you after casually walking up to the counter of the saloon you worked in. You remember how bright and friendly his smile was but how you stepped back out of instinct. "Oh, shy, right? S-sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you! Heh, heh," he awkwardly waddled back to his seat knowing the last thing he needed to cause was trouble for you.

His second attempt started with "Hi there, heh…just thought I'd try to talk to you again." He chuckled as he laid his hands on the counter. "I heard your name is Y/n," he smiled sheepishly, "what a pretty name." Maybe all you needed was a compliment to make you smile, he'd sure love to see that.

"I don't know, I mean they seem pretty shy. I wouldn't want to push them out of their comfort zone, you know? That's kind of not nice," he said, politely turning down Wolfwood's idea to ask you out. "Pff, suit yourself," he mumbled in reply, "but wait too long and someone else is going to snatch them up and you won't like that."

"Hey…it's me again," he said on a quiet night when the saloon was empty of customers. "Sorry if I've been bothering you lately, I know you're kind of shy but…" he chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "I'd be interested in…well t-talking to you, heh. I'm willing to listen to anything you'd like to talk about!" Everyone deserved that, right? And since you were busy dealing with customers all day, he was sure you had a lot to say.

You didn't realize his flirting attempts were flirting attempts at all because well, they didn't exactly make sense. "You know…I really admire the way you fill the glasses up," he chuckled. "You're always so careful to make sure the foam doesn't spill over the top," he smiled at you, hoping you'd say something in return, but you just thought his words were as strange as he was.

After a while, you grew accustomed to his warm smile and gentle voice so much that you looked forward to his visits. You also started to get to know his friends, who seemed a bit on edge but friendly. Vash noticed this slight increase in confidence and couldn't be happier for you.

His idea of asking you out was to suggest something quiet to do together to make you feel safe and comfortable. Of course, you never imagined it would end with the two of you staring at the five moons that hovered in the sky.

It surprised you that Vash always leaned close when you spoke and maintained eye contact. Of course, you weren't used to having someone's full attention. But it was still comforting to know that he was always interested in what you were doing or saying.

"Oh, heh sorry! I d-didn't mean to, really um..." The first time the two of you had fallen asleep together, you woke up to Vash's arms securely wrapped around you as if he were afraid that you'd get up and leave in the middle of the night. Of course, after hearing a few things about his past it was understandable why he felt so scared to lose you.

"Sorry…I guess I couldn't help myself, heh…" His face was completely flustered after he kissed you, as was yours. "I…understand if you don't feel the same way, not many people would want to be with…Vash the Stampede. Heh, the Humanoid Typhoon." He nervously chuckled before asking, "S-so…how do you feel?"

"What?!" Meryl snapped, grabbing your shoulders. "I'm happy for you but are you sure this is what you really want?" she asked. "Why don't you let them make their own mistakes, little miss?" Wolfwood said, stepping between you two. "If they want to date needle noggin, then that's on them…" Although he knew that if Vash messed up, he'd receive a beating.

"Ta-da!" Vash exclaimed as he uncovered your eyes to reveal the ruined city of July leaving you in shock. Why would he insist the two of you come here? "I know it's a little weird, but I thought I'd bring you here for our date because..." he reached over to hold your hand. "I think it's about time this place had good memories again."

He always stuck to his belief in protecting something more than anything else in this world: you. This meant he'd step in front of you whenever suspicious characters were around, or people looked at you the wrong way. Blocking their view of you and being ready for action if the situation escalated was something he was all too willing to do.

#vash x you #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun x you #faulty writes: trigun: 24 #faulty writes: trigun: headcanons: 24 #faulty writes: vash: 24 #faulty writes: vash: headcanons: 24

66 notes · View notes

xxlady-lunaxx · 1 month

Text

Unspoken affection | {SaneGiyuu}

Theme: FLUFF

Note: i, for the first time, will see if I can try writing this as if it wasn't a oneshot meaning they won't already like each other bc it'll end up like 3 words if they do

A sprinkle of ObaMitsu

I started this Feb. 23, apparently 😭 mar.29 when i finished ;;

×××

Giyuu had been one of the first Hashira. The third, in fact. After Tengen and Gyomei.

He gotten along well with them, although... 'getting along' were relative words. More so, they tolerated each other. Giyuu didn't really talk much, opted to stay silent. Gyomei was comfortable with that and Tengen appeared not to mind because, though he was very talkative, he preferred when it was quieter as his hearing was sensitive.

So, Giyuu got along with the Hashira, mostly. Kanae came along sometime later. She was very cheerful and the polar opposite of Giyuu, but she was kind and didn't mind his quietness. He found that he didn't mind her presence much, albeit he still acted the same.

And then Sanemi arrived.

He was like the disruption of the peace created within the Hashira. It was irritating.

When he went to his first meeting, he had erupted in anger at Kagaya and had been shouting at him. It was loud. And then, after the meeting had ended, the other Hashira had berated him for this.

Giyuu had stood by the side, deciding not to meddle with Sanemi. If he was always going to be an... explosive pomeranian, Giyuu should steer clear from this man.

Which was what he did. Mostly.

But it became obvious that it wouldn't be very easy when Sanemi decided to start bothering Giyuu, pestering him about being so quiet and unanswering. Normally, Giyuu would've ignored these irksome questions, but Sanemi was annoyingly persistant. And so, so very loud. Which was why he worked up the courage to respond, only to be talked over.

And thus began Giyuu's hate for Sanemi.

×××

When Sanemi had first become a Hashira, he had found himself in an almost feverish state. He was constantly tired and worked almost like a robot, doing things as if he had been programmed to. There were few times he felt like he could escape that, feel actually human again.

He found anger was a nice fuel of humanity to him, so he took it out on others, reveling at the feeling of temporary normalcy that came with it. It went away quickly and silence often brought back his numb, robotic state back, so he snapped at nearly everybody, making himself rather loathed personality-wise.

He didn't mind, not really. The only person he could care about what they thought of him was Masachika. And he was dead. So it really did not matter.

There was one Hashira whom he had decided to bother more than the others. Giyuu Tomioka, the Water Hashira. He was a really quiet person, rarely responding or speaking unless necessary. Because of Giyuu's ignorance, Sanemi found himself hovering around him more, feeling almost refreshed when immediate mirrored anger wasn't repelled back at him. It was annoying, of course. But annoyance meant he could feel. And feeling meant being... as okay as he could be.

Giyuu spoke only a couple times to him in response. Four, to be exact. His voice was quiet and collected, but a hint of irritation could be detected if you really paid attention. He was an interesting person, so full of mysteries and so closed off. Something else, besides his unbroken silence, drew Sanemi in. Like an old box in the far corner of the house, waiting to be opened and explored, except nobody was allowed to open it. Nobody was willing to, either. As if afraid something horrid would come out. Albeit it looked innocent on the outside, there was the small chance it would be filled with something terrible. To the point that even the box itself feared it's own being and refused to open up.

But Sanemi was curious.

Time flew on as usual—it never did stop, not for anyone or anything—and Sanemi grew less mechanical, more human. He found himself able to make skips in his usual schedule, able to live a bit more freely, despite his tightly programmed daily life.

He would use his occasional free time to wander around. He rarely actually spoke to anyone, only giving or following orders, occasionally engaging in small talk with some of the Hashira. But other than that, he kept to himself.

He was curious about Giyuu, however, which brought a bit of searching into his free time.

He would walk around, down random paths, looking for new places. Giyuu was one of the few Hashira's houses whom nobody knew where it was. Kanae's was free for anyone's knowledge, given that it was used for nursing people back to health often. Tengen invited the Hashira to his house from now and then, Kyojuro—who had become a Hashira recently—wasn't closed off about sharing and, though he didn't display it to the world, he did tell people if they asked.

Even Sanemi's, a select few knew.

But Giyuu's.

Giyuu's was only known to his crow, at this point, as he usually declined giving the knowledge to anyone. And something about that was peculiar to Sanemi. Like, what if there was an emergency? Would Giyuu simply live with the fact that whatever could happen might happen because nobody knew where he lived?

Although, it wasn't the worst thing possible, it was just something that set Giyuu aside from the others.

There was a lot that separated the Hashira from each other, of course. But Giyuu had something else that just... caught Sanemi's eye. Over and over again.

×××

Giyuu found himself growing more and more distant with the Hashira with each passing day. They already kept to themselves mostly, none of their schedules really overlapping, so it wasn't much different. But he started to avoid more so than mind his own business.

As the years past, more Hashira joined. Giyuu didn't feel connected to them, didn't feel like he could be like any of them. It was noticeable. And some of the Hashira tried to include him.

Although, include was a relative word. Some of them were kinder with it, but there were obviously those who were more... forceful. Like Sanemi.

Sanemi was, and had been since the day he'd became a Hashira, one of the most—or the most—irritating Hashira. He seemed apt to making Giyuu's life feel like that of a rat being chased by a cat, but not as life-threatening. Unless you counted going insane as life threatening.

One day, Sanemi had gone up to Giyuu—somehow having found him as he finished training somewhere in the clearing of a forest.

"Oi, Tomioka," he shouted, over the rush of water. There was a river, a loud one at that, that cut through the forest and skimmed along the edge of the field that Giyuu had found.

Giyuu turned. The weather was hot, so he had taken off the top of his uniform, folding that and his haori and placing it aside.

Deciding not to question why Sanemi was here, he cocked his head in question. "What?"

Sanemi seemed taken aback that he'd been responded to, but went on. "Uhm. Kanroji said that she wanted to invite all the Hashira on some shit sleepover and said I had to ask you to come," he said impatiently, his eyes flicking up and down, as if inspecting Giyuu.

"Oh. I won't go," Giyuu murmured. There was no reason to. It wasn't like the Hashira would actually want him to go.

Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "I figured."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Because Kanroji would get mad if I didn't. Which would induce ear-piercing cries about why," Sanemi snorted, rolling his eyes. He crossed his arms. He was sweating and the air was humid today, causing his hair to stick onto his skin.

"Ah."

Giyuu sheathed his katana, pulling his hair out of the ponytail to adjust it.

Sanemi watched him curiously, as if there was something to figure out.

"What?" Giyuu asked, upon noticing this.

"You never take down your hair," Sanemi said simply.

He was a lot less shout-y today, it was unsettling, almost.

"Okay."

They lapsed back into silence as Giyuu re-tied his hair back up, his hands sticky with sweat. The only sounds were of the rush water and the occasional bird from up ahead.

Sanemi wasn't leaving, which was curious. Especially since his eyes seemed to be tracking Giyuu, as if he was put in charge to guard him.

"...do you need anything?" Giyuu asked finally, growing uncomfortable.

"No," Sanemi murmured, turning away.

Confused, Giyuu watched as Sanemi left, without so much of an explanation. Odd.

×××

Fuck.

That day, that one day, that one stupid fucking day.

The sleepover thing was a lie. There hadn't been any sleepover. It had been an excuse to find Giyuu.

Sanemi hadn't figured he'd have any luck, so when he'd seen Giyuu there he'd instinctively called out to him. He'd managed to hide his surprise enough and masked it with the question he'd made up. Luckily, Giyuu had shot it down. Because if he hadn't...

But that was beside the point. It wasn't the question that made Sanemi panic. No, of course it wasn't.

It was the fact that when he had seen Giyuu there, he had... felt. Something. Something different.

Usually, anger was his key to reality. But, then, he hadn't been angry then. He had felt something else, something true. He couldn't distinguish it, being in some stupid trance when he'd felt it. But he knew that it was different.

So now he was tearing at his hair, wishing he'd figure it out because it was eating him alive now, and had been since the day he'd seen Giyuu there.

Giyuu without his-

No.

No, he wouldn't think about it. He wouldn't picture how Giyuu looked with his hair down, no shi... Shit. He shouldn't be thinking like this. He wouldn't!

Fuck.

Sanemi stood and grabbed his katana, pushing it into his belt and gritting his teeth in frustration. He stomped to the front of his house, slamming the door open and unsheathing his katana.

He brought the sword above his head and slashed down.

One. Two. Three.

Don't think about Giyuu. Don't think about him.

Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.

You hate him, remember? He's stupid.

Thirty six. Thirty seven. Thirty eight.

His boring responses and his way of ignoring.

Sixty four. Sixty five. Sixty six.

The way he distances himself, how he doesn't talk.

Ninety eight. Ninety nine. One hundred.

His stupid blue eyes and stupid black hair.

One hundred and forty one. One hundred and forty two. One hundred and forty three.

His stupid voice you want to hear every day. His stupid mouth you want to-

Sanemi threw his katana down in frustration, kicking the handle and making it skid away, hitting a small boulder a few feet from him.

He ran his hand through his hair, biting his bottom lip furiously until it bled.

"Goddammit," he hissed, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth.

He sighed and sat down, burying his face in his hands. Fuck. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

×××

Sanemi's uncharacteristic behavior had caught Giyuu's attention. It wasn't in his full interest, of course, but it was enough to make him curious. Yes, the weather had been hot and it made some people drowsy but... it hadn't ever visibly affected Sanemi enough to make him so quiet and... yeah.

Which made Giyuu wonder, was Sanemi ever quiet? The only time he could think of the scarred Hashira being silent was... when in Kagaya's presence. Meaning, only twice a year. Which meant it was very rare.

So, upon this realization, Giyuu decided he would try to figure it out. It wouldn't hurt to try getting along with Sanemi, right? Besides, maybe that would mean less yelling. And he would have something to do.

For a while, he forgot he was going to find out the reason of Sanemi's random personality slip, as it had completely left his mind; Sanemi wasn't exactly a priority to him.

But then he ran into Sanemi again one day, who seemed to be in a subdued mood, not even bothering to acknowledge Giyuu.

They were in the middle of a town, though, so it wasn't completely unreasonable.

Giyuu watched Sanemi carefully for a bit, before turning to continue buying his food.

Once he had paid and left, he turned back, noticing Sanemi instantly. He approached him cautiously, looking up curiously at the store the Wind Hashira had walked into. A sweets store? For pastries, mochis, and bread? Was he buying something for someone?

Giyuu hovered inside the store uncomfortably. A woman glanced at him and he quickly adjusted his haori over his katana; when people saw it, they usually called for security. He would know from experience.

Sanemi appeared to have noticed him immediately as he gave Giyuu an annoyed look, picking up a box of mochi that had been put down for him on the counter.

He walked towards the exit, muttering to Giyuu as he passed.

"The hell are you doing here?" he hissed between his teeth, his voice low.

The store was filled with a low chatter by the people around them and Giyuu quickly followed Sanemi out, deciding he didn't want to stay in this enclosed space with an almost intoxicating smell of sugar.

Back outside—and thank god for the fresh air—Giyuu and Sanemi walked quietly, side by side, through the streets.

The box, Giyuu noticed, was full of ohagi. Who liked ohagi? Mitsuri, maybe? He wasn't aware that Sanemi and Mitsuri were on good terms.

They continued in silence for a couple minutes until they reached a part that wasn't as crowded.

Sanemi stopped then, resulting in Giyuu stopping as well. They turned to each other and Sanemi glared at him.

"Were you stalking me or something? I saw you staring, earlier," Sanemi said, crossing his arms, the box of ohagi clutched in one hand.

"I wasn't," Giyuu mumbled.

"Right." Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Why'd you follow me into the bakery, then? You didn't buy shit."

Remembering the ohagi, Giyuu changed the subject. "Who is the ohagi for?"

"...The fuck does that have to do with anything? And it's not for anyone, I'm eating it"—he uncrossed his arms here, tapping the box—"And you didn't answer my question, dipshit."

Completely ignoring the last part, Giyuu said, surprised, "You like sweets?"

Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "And you like ignoring me. What the hell does my taste in food have to do with shit??"

Giyuu frowned. If Sanemi ate things like ohagi often, why wasn't he nicer? Like Mitsuri!

"Oi, you going to answer my question?" Sanemi snapped, waving the box in front of Giyuu's face.

"What question?" Giyuu asked, drawing blank.

Sanemi groaned. "I can't tell if you're really that stupid, or if you're just pretending."

"I'm... not pretending," Giyuu mumbled, confused.

"Goddammit, never-fucking-mind," Sanemi sighed, turning. "I'm going to go. Don't follow me."

Giyuu's frown deepened but he nodded, watching Sanemi walk away.

Sanemi was in a peculiar mood that way. Although he was still as fiesty as ever, he didn't shout as much as usual. His voice was quieter. It was almost pleasant. Almost.

×××

Giyuu had been quite talkative that day. Had a randomly curious nature, followed by a million questions. Sanemi couldn't tell if he liked this or if he hated it. On the one hand, it was nice to hear Giyuu's voice a bit more. On the other, he was being ignorant and nosy as fuck. But... he seemed curious as to what Sanemi was doing. Was he interested in-

No. That was stupid thinking, and being a Hashira did not allow stupid thinking!

Sanemi had been deep in thought about all of this for a couple hours now and was eating his ohagi whilst he walked towards... Where was he again?

He looked around, confused, and found himself standing admist a bamboo forest, water from a supposed river could be heard in the background. There was a house, a little ways forward, which was nestled comfortably in a small man-made clearing in the forest. The ground was gritty, like thickly packed sand, and it made a slight crunching sound as Sanemi walked towards the house, curious.

He'd never been here before.

He looked around, his eyes catching onto everything. Then he realized there was approaching him from behind and he turned, noticing the motion of a person, entering the clearing. He quickly hid by the side of the house, waiting for the person.

Their footsteps were moderate but precise, and they grew closer to the house before pausing and suddenly moving quickly to where Sanemi hid.

Fuck.

But then the person came into view and...

"Tomioka?"

Giyuu blinked at him, his hand dropping from his katana. "What are you doing here, Shinazugawa?" he asked quietly, his brilliant blue eyes flicking over Sanemi as if he was searching for an answer written upon his body.

"I was just walking and ended up here somehow." Then, with a realization, Sanemi said, "Do you live here?"

Giyuu gave a hesitant nod. "I wasn't aware I told anyone of this place."

"You didn't. I don't know fuck where I am," Sanemi said, retreating from his hiding spot to stand in front of Giyuu.

"Ah. Hello, again," Giyuu murmured. He turned, walking to his front door and unlocking it, opening the door.

Sanemi nodded, standing awkwardly.

Giyuu glanced at him. "Are you busy?" he asked.

"No," Sanemi said. "My next mission is just patrol shit, and it shouldn't be too far."

"Okay. Do you want to come in?" Giyuu offered, stepping inside.

Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to drug me with tea?"

"...What?"

"Nevermind. Sure."

Giyuu nodded, motioning for him to come inside.

The interior of Giyuu's house was modest, kept mostly simple—which made sense given that the Hashira didn't usually devote their time to decorating their house. Except Mitsuri, maybe.

Sanemi closed the door behind him, looking around. "Why do you never tell anyone about your house?" he asked, absentmindedly.

Giyuu didn't respond, getting something from a different room.

Sanemi sighed. "You don't like responding, do you?" he asked pointedly, following Giyuu into what appeared to be the kitchen.

Giyuu glanced at him, then handed the albino male a teapot. Steam was filtering through the top, making Sanemi's hand feel humid and hot. He placed it on the knee-high table, confused why he'd been handed it. Giyuu gave him two cups in following and he poured the tea into them, watching the steam swirl and dissipate into the air.

Sanemi picked up one of the cups, the warmth from the tea seeping through the cup and warming his hands. Giyuu sat down across from where Sanemi stood, picking up his own cup.

It was silent as the two Hashira sipped their tea, neither having anything to say. Sanemi looked up, taking in the sight of Giyuu who sat quietly, his cup clasped in his hands, his eyes cast down, watching the swirl of the liquid. He looked cute this way, really. He always looked so subdued but it was adorable.

Honestly, something must be horrible wrong with Sanemi if he was thinking like this. He couldn't stop, somehow. Which was irritating to himself, almost worrying, really. Mostly annoying. He didn't want to be thinking about Giyuu 24/7, didn't want to be unable to look at Giyuu without falling into a fucking puddle.

He was fighting so hard to keep his composure at the moment, hoping beyond hope his face wasn't red. It was so fucking stupid, to look at Giyuu and think, God that man is so beautiful. Had he, or had he not, hated him before? Albeit, it hadn't truly been hate...

"What?"

Sanemi looked up at the sound of Giyuu's voice, startled by the sudden noise in the previously hushed room.

Giyuu was staring at him, his eyes wide. It was tripping to see him whenever he showed emotion. It was unnatural on his face.

"What?" Sanemi asked. He placed his cup down on the table, having finished his tea a couple minutes ago.

Giyuu's mouth opened and closed soundlessly before saying, quietly, "You... think I'm pretty?"

Sanemi blinked. "The fuck are you-" ...Oh. Oh, oh god, he must've said it out loud, he must've told Giyuu without even realizing that-

Giyuu put his cup down as well, biting his lip. His face was mostly impassive, though, and it made everything... so much worse.

"No. I, uhm, I didn't... I didn't mean to say that-" Sanemi stuttered, worsening matters. He should've just said it was a joke, or something, what the hell was wrong with him? He was stumbling over himself, backing away. Why was he so nervous? This was Giyuu, for fucks sake! He didn't actually care! ...Right?

Giyuu stood as well, nearly knocking down the table in the process. He steadied it and moved forwards, reaching an arm out to grab Sanemi's wrist—instinctively, most likely—but Sanemi had retreated already, was out the door and heading towards the front.

Giyuu followed him quickly, stopping him before he opened the door.

"Shinazugawa?"

And then it was like words suddenly stopped existing and Sanemi froze, his eyes flicking around nervously. "W...What?" he asked, his voice meek and timid. Disgusting. Why was he being like this? God, he needed help. What the fuck.

"Did you... Did you mean it?" Giyuu mumbled, his hand clasped around Sanemi's wrist. The feel of his palm was warm and, though his hands were calloused from years of training, his hand was almost soft.

"Mean what?" Stupid. This was stupid, Sanemi was stupid, everything was-

"What you said about... me."

Yes. He meant it. Meant more than that.

"No."

"Oh."

Giyuu let go of Sanemi's wrist and his arm fell to his side.

There was an awkward moment of silence and then-

"...sorry. Bye, Shinazugawa," he said quietly, opening the door for Sanemi and backing away slightly.

Sanemi didn't move for a second, his body feeling numb for no reason.

"Are you leaving?" Giyuu asked uncertainly.

"...Yes," Sanemi said, regaining feeling in his body and quickly making his way out.

He shut the door behind him, walking quickly through the clearing and back onto the path outside of it. He looked from his left to right then, deciding he didn't know where the hell he was, turned left and broke out into a slow run, his pace quickening by the second.

As he ran, he felt as if his lungs had deflated, and he breathed heavily through his mouth, as if suddenly he had lost the ability to run.

What the hell was that? Why had he acted like that? What the fuck was wrong with him?

×××

Giyuu was in a panic. He was panicking because:

1. Sanemi had found his house somehow.

2. Sanemi had been quiet for the longest time possible for him.

3. Sanemi had been drinking tea with Giyuu inside Giyuu's house... quietly.

4. Sanemi said that Giyuu was beautiful... then went on to deny it.

5. Sanemi had been so awkward.

6. Sanemi had then proceeded to run away after Giyuu had caught hold of his arm.

What the hell had just happened?!

×××

Sanemi was also panicking. Waaay worse.

He found Obanai quickly and, in the most incomprehensible way, recounted what had happened.

Obanai stared at him, confused and irritated. "What? Will you slow the fuck down and catch your breath first?"

Sanemi ignored him, deciding to explain in a faster way. "I think I like Tomioka."

Obanai crossed his arms. "Okay?"

"'Fuck you mean, 'okay'?!" Sanemi snapped.

"It was obvious that you liked him, idiot," Obanai said. He rolled his eyes. "Is that all? A stupid revelation everyone but you already knew? If so, I will be with Kanroji, thank you very much."

"Oh my god, think about something other than your girlfriend for once!!!" Sanemi groaned. "And what the fuck do you mean, 'everyone already knew'? I didn't even know!"

"Riiighttt, this is a massive waste of my time, I'll be off now," Obanai said, turning away.

"Bitch," Sanemi grumbled, watching Obanai practically skip off to Mitsuri.

He sighed, sitting down on the ground, leaning against a random tree that just so happened to be there.

He buried his face in his hands, wishing he knew the answers to the world. And wishing he wasn't thinking about Giyuu.

×××

Sanemi had suddenly become a person that Giyuu could be more than mildly interested in, someone he needed to find something out about but he didn't quite know what. And given that Sanemi had basically run away from him the last time they'd met, Giyuu opted to talk to Obanai about Sanemi.

Upon approaching him and asking him about Sanemi, Obanai simply said, "He fell in love with someone," and gave no other explanation before leaving.

Almost frustrated by this response, Giyuu searched for someone else who could tell him a little something about the Hashira he'd always wanted to avoid.

He went to Mitsuri next, whom was known for her friendliness and perhaps she had managed to speak a bit with Sanemi before.

She didn't say much, only burst into a fit of giggling when he asked about Sanemi.

Giyuu just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.

Mitsuri told him, then, that perhaps Sanemi was acting like this because he liked someone.

Which only made it all the more annoying.

Shinobu, Tengen and Kyojuro only gave similar answers to those of Obanai's and Mitsuri's. So, Giyuu gave up asking the Hashira and quickly tracked down Genya.

Genya was surprised to hear the question.

"Aniki?" he'd said. "What do you mean?"

"Yes. That's what he said. Then he left," Giyuu said blandly.

"Oh. Uhm." Genya hesitated. "I don't know. I don't know him as well as I used to."

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence.

"What do you know about him, then? Be it not of his present self," Giyuu asked.

"Uhh... He's really good with children! He cared for me and my younger siblings really well, as if he was our father," Genya said, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "He was really kind. I remember he would do anything to help Mother when she needed it, even did most of the things she usually did just so she could sleep well that night."

Giyuu raised an eyebrow. "He sounds very different."

Genya frowned. "I'm sure he's still like that..."

"Mhm. Go on."

"Alright. Uhm..." Genya then proceeded to go on a rant about the most random facts about Sanemi, from his favorite food—ohagi—to the friends he'd had in the past.

Giyuu listened with interest, not realizing there could be so much character to a man who seemed to make it his life goal to annoy people.

At the end of Genya's rant, he had said, "he might like you, you know, if he said that. Or he was thinking about someone else?" Genya concluded, referring to Sanemi calling him beautiful—then claiming he didn't mean it.

"Like me?..." Giyuu asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mhm!" Genya waved, walking away. "Tell me if anything happens!"

"Alright..." Giyuu watched him leave, then turned back to his own thoughts.

Like him? Why would anyone like Giyuu? And, of all people, Sanemi! Although, it would tie together with what the Hashira had said, given that they'd all said that Sanemi had 'fallen in love.'

But... how? And why?

×××

Sanemi successfully managed to avoid Giyuu for about three days before he was found. He had been walking down a path after his mission, on his way home, when he ran into Giyuu. Giyuu, as it turned out, had had a mission near Sanemi's and had also been on his way home.

"Shinazugawa?"

Sanemi's heart stopped. Fuck.

Giyuu was standing there, his expression all innocent and unassuming and... God. Yes, yes he looked like a fucking god.

"What?" Sanemi snapped, fighting against the heat that rose in his body. Goddammit.

"I've been looking for you..." Giyuu said, stepping forwards to be face to face with the Wind Hashira, his gaze curious, a contrast to his usually impassive expression.

"...Why?" It's not because he's interested, it is not. Sanemi's eyes flicked anywhere but to Giyuu's face and he pursed his lips uncertainly.

"I wanted to ask you about something," Giyuu replied, tilting his head slightly. "...Why won't you look at me?"

"Why the fuck are you so talkative?!" Sanemi asked, his voice coming out more irritated than he'd intended. His heart seemed to be working again; or maybe not. It beat quickly, too quickly, and his breath came out forced and quick.

"Are you okay?" Giyuu's voice was concerned, he frowned. "Your face is red..."

"Fuck off. It's... 'cause I was running a lot. And you aren't answering me," Sanemi mumbled, turning his face away.

"Oh." Giyuu paused, seemingly forgetting what he was doing here. "I wanted to ask you some-"

"I get it, you want to ask me something. Get the fuck on with it! I don't have time to waste on your shitty ass," Sanemi said, crossing his arms. Why was he acting like this, as if he could barely control his emotions anymore. It was stupid, and annoying.

"...Sorry." Giyuu pouted. "Do you... like me?"

Sanemi froze. "What?"

"Do you like me?..." Giyuu repeated.

"No, I heard you, don't fucking repeat it," Sanemi gritted out. "Why the hell would you ask that?!"

"...I was... wondering about your behavior. It was peculiar and I... couldn't fathom why you had acted like that," Giyuu said quietly. "I asked the Hashira and your brother and... they all said you liked someone—though Genya said that, more specifically, you might like... me?"

"I..." Sanemi was at loss for words. He couldn't like Giyuu! Not that stupid, quiet, bitchass bastard! Except, it would make sense. It would explain why he always felt so... Oh my god, he needed to get out of here. He couldn't bear having Giyuu's annoyingly pretty eyes staring at him curiously, as if he hadn't just dropped the worst question he ever could.

"No. No, I hate you! I don't like you! Fuck off!" Sanemi shouted, turning and quickly running off, not looking back.

Fuck.

×××

There was something wrong with Giyuu.

When Sanemi had left, shouting that he didn't like him, Giyuu had felt a pang in his chest. As if he was disappointed.

Why would he be? He'd never cared much what Sanemi said before. And yet...

And yet now he suddenly cared, suddenly wished to know why. Why what? Why everyone claimed Sanemi had fallen in love? Why Sanemi had called him beautiful? Why Sanemi seemed to hate him so much? Why he felt like it all actually mattered?

He had trudged home, nearly bumping into several trees in the process. Then he had flopped onto his futon and proceeded to stare at the cealing, re-thinking his life. The image of Sanemi from earlier flashed in his memory. Sanemi, his cheeks flushed,—from running???—his eyes averted and face scrunched from anger. He looked like an angry dog, really. But cuter.

Wait. What?

No, no, not cute. Sanemi was never cute.

Giyuu sighed, dropping a hand onto his forehead and running his hand through his hair, closing his eyes. What the fuck was wrong with him?

×××

It was dark and raining, though the air was warm. Sanemi was trudging through a muddy forest without a clue to where he was going, exhaustion dragging him down. He was soaked to the bone and shivering despite the warm weather. As he walked, he noted that somebody was somewhere around him. He kept his guard up, quieting his footsteps as he continued on. Then, at an intersection of the path, he bumped into... Genya.

Genya had his arm over his head and had apparently only just noticed Sanemi, skittering backwards in his surprise. "A-... Aniki?!" Genya said, startled.

Sanemi grumbled. Of course it was him. "What?" he asked, irritated.

"Uhm. I was on a mission," Genya mumbled.

"What, are you going to bleed to death now??" Sanemi said, noticing the blood staining Genya's clothing. "Quit the fucking Corps if you're going to be so useless at your job."

"No! I'm fine! It's a light wound. And I won't quit!! I'm not useless!" Genya insisted, pouting.

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Then get your ass to Kocho's. I don't want to deal with you right now," he said, turning away from his (not) brother and stalking away.

"Wait- Aniki-" Genya called out, following him.

"Fuck off! And I'm not your brother!" Sanemi snapped, not turning to look at him.

"Please-"

"Shut the actual fuck up," he said, turning and pushing Genya to the ground.

Genya slipped on the mud and fell on his back. He frowned but stopped following Sanemi who walked away, through the forest.

Sanemi looked around, trying to figure out where the hell he was. He noticed a path that looked vaguely familiar to the left and he followed it, his steps slow. He let out an exaggerated sigh every now and then, wishing he could just stop Genya from being Genya for once.

He looked up and found that, as the path went on, there was one part that entered into what looked like a bamboo forest. Ah. Giyuu's house.

He contemplated going inside for a minute before deciding to just walk past it, not wanting to deal with Giyuu asking if... No, he wouldn't finish the sentence.

So he trudged on. Then, to his luck, he heard his name being called out. He turned with a sigh, meeting Giyuu's gaze. "What is it?" he asked, his voice coming out harsher than intended.

"Uhm. Shinazugawa, what're you doing outside now?" Giyuu asked. "It's raining, you should get inside unless you want to get a cold."

"Yeah, well, I have no fucking idea where I am. I'll be fine," Sanemi said, shaking his head.

"Come inside!" Giyuu insisted. "I have a mission I have to get to in a bit, I think, but it'll be fine. You can stay here so Kocho doesn't kill you for getting sick."

"Fair enough..." Sanemi sighed, caving in. He followed Giyuu inside, slipping off his shoes.

"You should bathe and change," Giyuu said, looking Sanemi up and down. "I'll put extra clothing and a towel in the bathroom and make an extra futon for you."

"Alright. Thanks," Sanemi said, wondering why the hell Giyuu was talking to much.

Giyuu nodded and went off to do what he had said, leaving Sanemi standing in the hall.

×××

After Giyuu had made sure that Sanemi had everything he might need—putting out a tray of food next to the futon as well—he quickly wrote a note explaining that he would be out on a mission and that Sanemi could sleep or whatever he wanted while waiting.

He left the note on top of the futon and grabbed his haori, slipping it on. He picked up his katana, pushing it into his belt, and heading outside into the rain.

The mission was easy—the demons being surprisingly incompetent for a Hashira to be called there. And, after making sure the surviving rank-and-file Demon Slayers were alright, he made his way home. Unfortunately he'd been held up by the other Demon Slayers so dawn was already approaching.

The rain had settled to a light sprinkle, almost non-existent, and the sky was brightening as the sun slowly arose.

Back home, Giyuu quickly bathed and changed, then went to look for Sanemi. He entered his room and found Sanemi entangled between the sheets of his futon. The food was half eaten and the note sat on the tray.

Giyuu almost smiled at the sight. It was really nice to see the humanity in Sanemi; it was rare. He slipped into his own futon and closed his eyes, falling asleep soon after.

×××

When Sanemi awoke, light was filtering through a window. He ran a hand through the mess of his hair, moving the blankets off of him. He looked to his left and saw Giyuu fast asleep. He smiled—then quickly frowned at himself for smiling—and turned to his food, which was mostly cold now. Regardless, he ate the rest of it. Once he finished, he picked up the tray and took it to where he presumed the kitchen was, washing his bowls.

As he dried his hands, he heard Giyuu walking and turned.

Giyuu was at the doorway, looking quite illegally adorable in all his sleepiness, his hair messy as hell. He blinked wearily at Sanemi. "Good morning."

"'Morning," Sanemi returned, nodding. "It's strange to wake up actually in the morning."

Giyuu nodded back. "Mhm."

"Are you hungry?"

"A bit."

"Want me to make something?" he offered.

Giyuu raised an eyebrow. "You can cook?"

"Don't look at me like that. Of course I can, what kind of eldest sibling would I be without knowing how to cook??" Sanemi scoffed. "I'll show you."

"I wouldn't want to bother you, it's fine," Giyuu murmured. "I can make myself something."

"What, canned tomato sauce? I'm making it. I took your question as a fucking challenge," Sanemi said, pushing Giyuu out of the kitchen. "I'm going to use whatever the hell you have in here, by the way!!"

Giyuu called back a complaint in response.

Sanemi grinned and started scouring the kitchen for ingredients, deciding he would make the most elaborate food he could with what he found. Literally for no reason at all.

×××

Sanemi had called Giyuu in to eat—after he had waited for an hour—and now, sitting before him, was... The most food he'd seen in front of him in his life since... Since he was thirteen. No, well, not the most. But it reminded him of when Tsutako had guests over and she wanted to make the food be the best it possibly could be.

"Uhhm. Thank you..." Giyuu said, still in shock.

Sanemi smirked. "Who can't cook now?!"

"It wasn't even a challenge!" Giyuu whined.

"Mhmmm, well now it is! Whatever you don't eat I'm sending to Rengoku probably. Or Kanroji. Either of them will eat it without a question," Sanemi said, crossing his arms. "Now, eat."

"Why're you feeding me???" Giyuu huffed, though he sat down and picked up a fork that Sanemi had laid down for him.

"Because I never do this anymore and I was bored. And I didn't feel like training yet," he said simply, sitting down across from Giyuu. "Why, do you not want to eat?"

Giyuu shook his head. "No, no, I do. You're just being so nice today-"

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll stop being nice." He stood and walked to the other side of the table and smacked Giyuu's head. "Eat!!"

"I... I preferred you when you were nice..." Giyuu admitted, quickly starting to eat.

"Exactly. Besides, you can't be questioning me when you're talking as much as Rengoku today," Sanemi pointed out.

"No' af mush," Giyuu mumbled through mouthfuls of food.

"Hm. True. And don't talk with your mouth full or I'll squeeze the food out of you," Sanemi threatened, going back to his side of the table and plopping down.

Giyuu glared at him but finished chewing before responding. "What are you, my mom?"

"Yes, I'm your mom now. Manners!!" Sanemi shouted, picking up a piece of bread and chucking it at Giyuu.

"Hey- Parents don't do that- I think-" Giyuu whined, picking up the bread and putting it on the table.

"You 'think'??" Sanemi asked incredulously, starting to eat.

"My sister raised me," Giyuu said with a shrug—then realized what he said and quickly stuffed food in his mouth, wishing he wasn't being so open suddenly. Something about Sanemi's atmosphere today just made him so comfortable, though. His teasing manner—and not in a rude way. Like... Sabito.

"Ah. Nice," Sanemi murmured, picking up a cup and filling it with tea.

"Mm. Thanks for the food, again," Giyuu said, giving him a slight smile.

Sanemi raised his eyebrows at the smile, but said nothing of it, simply nodding. "Sure."

×××

Back at his own house, Sanemi was changed in his uniform again. He laid the clothes Giyuu had let him borrow down and- Oh shit, he had taken them home- He contemplated going back to Giyuu's house, then decided he'd rather not bother and headed outside to train.

His mind was filled with thoughts of Giyuu—Giyuu's smile, his house, just him in general—and he found it hard to concentrate on his training. So, only ten minutes after he'd started, he promptly gave up, deciding to do something else and set out on a walk.

Over the next few days, Sanemi found himself mostly alone. Although there was the occasional nod from Obanai when they passed by each other, he was mostly solitary. Days were busier now, with demons multiplying each second. The past dull of life seemed to have faded recently, however, which made him not mind the constant missions. In honesty, he felt relieved. But he had a feeling Giyuu had something to do with his life feeling like life again, a fact which he preferred to ignore. There was no way in hell he would ever admit to anyone that he liked Giyuu, because it was Giyuu. If it were literally anyone else, he would've just told them. But Giyuu?? The 'I'm not like you' quiet-ass bastard who was way too cute than he should be allowed to be—who was a stupid, oblivious fuck??? Him??

Nah.

Honestly, Giyuu seemed to have it figured out though. So hopefully Sanemi wouldn't have to clarify. Because if he did, then they were better off not interacting at all.

×××

"He likes you, it's obvious," Shinobu said, rolling her eyes. She taped the bandage around Giyuu's wrist and let go of his arm. "Anyway, I'm done. Don't force your arm past its limits, know your own strength, idiot. Or weaknesses, if you may."

Giyuu blinked. "I don't think he likes me. He said he didn't."

"Does Shinazugawa seem like the type to be honest when it comes to this?" Shinobu asked, raising an eyebrow. She stood, putting away her supplies.

"He's annoyingly honest," Giyuu murmured, standing as well.

"Fair point. But! Keywords, 'when it comes to this.' He wouldn't just straight up say, 'Hey, I like you.' Doesn't sound like him," Shinobu said, picking up a pen and tapping Giyuu's nose with the tip of it.

Giyuu batted the pen away, shaking his head. "No, he seems like the type to do that."

"Hm. Not with you, then," she said, grabbing his non-injured hand and forcing the pen into it.

"I don't need this," Giyuu said, trying to give it back.

"You do. Sign this," Shinobu said, shoving a paper in his face.

Giyuu eyed it. "What is it?"

"You're overworking yourself. This gives you permission to have a break," she said impatiently. "Write your name there."

"...No. I'm alright," he said, frowning.

She sighed. "Worth a shot. I'll just forge your signature. Anyway, back to Shinazugawa."

"Hey-" Giyuu whined as she snatched the pen and paper back.

A smile as sweet as a lemon spread across her face. "Yes?"

"...You're a pain, Kocho," he grumbled, sitting back down.

"That's all? Very well, let's go back to the topic of your boyfriend. Now, tell me, do you like him?" she asked, leaning closer to him.

Heat seemed to flicker into his cheeks and he fidgetted with his sleeve. "No..."

She laughed. "I'm not Uzui but I could hear your lie from miles away."

"I'm not lying..."

"Okay, well, tell me this. Since all of this"—she waved her hand over him, as if it would explain anything—"has happened, you've been, one, talking more, two, a lot more expressive, three, more distracted. And... four? You're blushing. When I asked you, you turned red."

"I did not!" Giyuu said indignantly, although he was sure he only turned redder.

"You're annoying. You're like a child," she said, exasperated. "Fine. Be it your way. But he does like you, mark my words. So if you two end up dating, I get to say 'I told you so.' Also, I better be the first person you tell."

Giyuu frowned. "We won't date. I don't like him, and I'm sure he doesn't like me."

"Suit yourself." She hit his head with a ruler that she'd apparently conjured out of nowhere. "Now get out. I have more important things to deal with."

Giyuu sighed and stood, quickly leaving before she decided to bother him again.

There was no way what she was saying was true. Why the hell would Giyuu fall for... Sanemi?! And vice versa. It just didn't make sense...

×××

"You're going to be the death of me," Sanemi said, sighing. Giyuu was currently on his back, clinging on for dear life, as Sanemi stalked to the ravenette's room.

Sanemi had finally decided to bring back Giyuu's clothes—once he'd worked up the courage to willingly visit him—only to find Giyuu collapsed on the ground having apparently been training for some hours and hadn't been hydrated enough.

"I'm sorryyy," Giyuu mumbled into Sanemi's shoulder.

"Save your apologies for Kocho, you better hope she doesn't barricade you in your room," he said, rolling his eyes. He kicked down Giyuu's bedroom door and marched inside, dropping the Hashira on his bed. "Sleep."

"I'm convinced you're trying to mother me," Giyuu said, a hand drapping over his forehead and obscuring his eyes. "First you cook me food and now you make me sleep."

Sanemi scoffed. "Your fault for being so incompetent. And I'm not your mother. What, do you want me to be? Want me to kiss you goodnight?"

Giyuu raised his arm to look at Sanemi. "Would you do it?"

His eyes were curious, a striking blue. Usually they seemed to hold no life in them, no emotion, no passion, no nothing. But there was a glint to it now, seeming to light up Giyuu's face like a beacon.

Sanemi swallowed. "Would you ask?"

Giyuu's lips curved in a small smile. "Touché."

Sanemi sighed, shaking his head—more at himself. "You're stupid."

"I'll sleep now," Giyuu informed him, pulling the sheets over himself.

"You better. I'm staying here 'till you sleep."

"What?! You creep," he whined.

"Either that or I tell Kocho," Sanemi said, set on his decision.

"...Fine, stalk me all you want," Giyuu said, frowning and closing his eyes.

Sanemi smiled to himself, leaning against the wall and waiting.

The room drew to a quiet hum, the only sound being the two Hashira's breathing. After a while, Giyuu's breath finally calmed into a slow, settled sleep, his face relaxed and soothed.

Sanemi stepped towards the bed quietly, hovering over him. He knelt beside Giyuu and, once he decided that he really was asleep, started to step away. Then he paused, his eyes trailing to Giyuu's lips.

He immediately struck down the idea, mentally berating himself for even thinking it. He parted the dark locks resting on Giyuu's forehead, placing a gentle kiss there before quickly fixing the Hashira's hair and retreating from the room, making his way outside.

The cool air hit his face as he stepped out, but he barely noticed it, heat flickering in his cheeks as he walked out of the clearing and into the path that would lead him back. God, why was he such a mess...

(i loved writing that sm)

×××

Giyuu was a light sleeper.

Anyone in the Demon Slayer Corps had to be, or they wouldn't even pass Final Selection. So, of course, he had awoken. Though he had been too sleepy to comprehend why he had woken up so randomly, and so quickly, at the time, he quickly realized it once Sanemi had left.

Now he lay, curled up in a ball, his face buried in his palms, mentally screaming. Because.. what the hell had just happened?! But... he wasn't complaining.

Wait- Why not-

He pulled the blanket over his head, engolfing himself in the darkness. No, this wasn't better. It only made his face hotter. He sat up, the cool air bursting upon him. He fanned himself, trying to calm his heartbeat.

Fuck, he was in love, wasn't he. He was in love, he was in love with Sanemi Shinazugawa. He was a fucking mess.

×××

"...You look like Tomioka just kissed you," Obanai said, crossing his arms and leaning back against a tree.

Sanemi had found him, after a while, and was trying to get his thoughts together, pacing up and down on the side of the path. "He didn't! I did!"

"Wait what-" Obanai said, standing up straight and leaning towards him. "What do you mean?!"

Sanemi let out a half-sigh, half scream, raking his hand through his hair. "Not... Not fully, just on his forehead. And he was asleep. BUT STILL!!"

Obanai slumped back against the tree, rolling his eyes. "Coward," he coughed.

"Oh, shut the fuck up. It's not like you have kissed Kanroji yet," Sanemi spat, stopping in front of Obanai.

"Yeah, well, unlike you, I have still been way more successful!!" he retorted. "All you have done is eat breakfast with him!! Meanwhile, I've eaten lunch and breakfast with her many days, gone on walks with her, bought her gifts, hugged her..."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Yet you haven't told her that you like her."

"Hey! You haven't told Tomioka either!!" Obanai pointed out.

"Righhttt, and who, exactly, has liked their crush for longer?? Hmm? Oh, right! You!" Sanemi laughed. "Your arguments are pitiful."

"You're freaking out about kissing Tomioka on the fucking forehead when he was asleep, don't call me pitiful," Obanai grumbled.

"Hm. Fair enough," Sanemi decided.

"Look, take Tomioka out on a walk or something equivalent to a date, for all I care. But if you keep ranting about how you kissed him on the forehead without him knowing then I'm going to find Tomioka and tell him how you feel. I don't give a fuck anymore," Obanai told him, moving away from the tree and walking back onto the path.

Sanemi turned towards him. "Consider it the same for you. I don't know how long I can stand hearing you talk about Kanroji. 'Oh my god! Kanroji told me we can eat lunch together, just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before, and the day bef-'"

"I GET IT!!!" Obanai snapped, rubbing his temples. "Fine. You stop, I stop."

"Deal."

Sanemi grinned. "Have fun eating lunch with her again. Or, rather, watching her eat lunch."

Obanai pushed him. "Fuck off."

×××

Sanemi had kissed him. He'd kissed him, he had kissed him, oh my god, Sanemi had-

Well. It could've just been to the joke from before. About 'kissing him goodnight.' BUT STILL. AND GIYUU HAD BEEN ASLEEP(ish).

Which made it all the more... Confusing. Maybe Sanemi saw him only as a sibling or a child or something. He did keep taking care of him, which didn't even seem coincidental anymore. As if, assuming one could believe in fate, they were being purposefully brought together. Constantly in each other's ways. ...Not that Giyuu minded.

In fact, he liked spending more time with Sanemi.

The fact of which was a huge shock to himself. Hadn't he just hated Sanemi?

Well. Things always changed, no...?

Maybe this change wouldn't be bad, though. Maybe he should try embracing it.

Giyuu found himself constantly distracted by these thoughts as he went on with his days. But, surprisingly, he didn't come across Sanemi for a while. Either Sanemi was avoiding him—which was reasonable, yet disappointing—or their schedules just kept them apart from each other. Whatever the reason was, Giyuu ended up going in search of Sanemi, wanting to clarify the ki...

No, he wouldn't say it. Wouldn't think it. He preferred not to feel as if he would have a heart attack—an abnormal heartbeat and flushed face...

He sighed, mussing up his hair so it covered his face, continuing to walk briskly down the path. He avoided some Demon Slayers who had seemingly popped out of nowhere and were attempting to talk to them, mentally berating himself for not being careful and getting unwanted attention. Just as he was about to give up and let them talk to him, he noticed Sanemi somewhere in the close distance.

He sped up, ignoring the calls of the other Demon Slayers who trotted behind him.

Sanemi looked up upon all the noise and seemed to be holding back laughter at the sight of Giyuu's pleading gaze. He cleared his throat, grabbing Giyuu's arm and pushing him behind him.

"The hell do you want?" he asked the others, glaring at them.

They all shrank back. One of them spoke up timidly, his voice shaky. "W... We just wanted to talk to Water-Pillar-sama..."

"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. See, I need him somewhere. You all can go now," Sanemi said, waving them off.

"But-"

"I said I need him. You said you wanted something from him. Need is more important than want, fuckers. If you don't leave now, maybe we can see how well you can weild your katanas against a Hashira," Sanemi said, a hand hovering over his katana handle.

"Shinazugawa, there's no need to-" Giyuu started.

Sanemi shushed him, turning back to the Demon Slayers. "So? What will it be?"

They seemed to hesitate for a second before deciding it wasn't worth it and collectively agreed to leave, scampering away.

Sanemi turned back to Giyuu, a smirk growing on his face. "Got people falling on themselves for you now, hm?" he teased.

Giyuu sighed. "Will I have to find someone else to shoo you away?" he asked.

"I was joking- The hell did they even want from you, though?" Sanemi said, crossing his arms.

"I don't know," Giyuu murmured.

"Right." An awkward silence spread between the two and they stared at the ground, unsure what to say.

"Uh. Now that you're free, guess I'll be taking my leave-" Sanemi said, appearing to want to dash away. His cheeks were dabbed in a dusty pink as he stepped back.

"Wait- Shinazugawa, I wanted to ask you something," Giyuu said, grabbing Sanemi's wrist as he remembered why he had been outside in the first place.

"Which is?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Giyuu paused, glancing down at his hand which was still clasped around the scarred wrist of the other Hashira. Sanemi's pulse was fast. Why?

"Uhm. A few days ago... when you told me to sleep," Giyuu started quietly, unsure how to go about it. Then, deciding that there was no use stalling, he blurted out, "Why did you kiss me?"

Sanemi stared at him, in shock apparently, then let out what sounded like a muted scream, burying his face in the hand Giyuu wasn't holding. "God, you were awake...?" he mumbled, sounding as if he was regretting everything. Which he probably was doing.

"I... woke up when you did that," Giyuu murmured.

"...Of course you did," Sanemi said.

Giyuu cocked his head to the side. "Can I ask you something, Shinazugawa?"

"What now...?" he said with a sigh, running his hand through his hair—or, more, tearing at his hair.

"Why is your heartbeat so fast?" Giyuu asked.

Sanemi looked up, glaring at him. "Stop asking questions I'd rather tear my chest out than answer," he grumbled.

Giyuu raised an eyebrow. "What-?"

"Nevermind."

"Okay..." Giyuu let go of his wrist. "Will you answer the questions?"

Sanemi hesitated. "What happens if I don't?"

"I'll... ask Genya for help?..." Giyuu said slowly, knowing it would irritate Sanemi—and hopefully convince him to speak.

Sanemi's eyes narrowed. "Fuck, fine." He let out an exaggerated sigh, then without warning reached up and clasped his hands on either side of Giyuu's face, pulling him closer.

Giyuu's eyes widened and he felt himself flush at the proximity, his stomach deciding to do some acrobatic trick of Mitsuri's, followed by what appeared to be a bunch of Shinobu's fluttering around.

"Shinazugawa...?" he mumbled, his voice muted from his own shock.

×××

Do it. DO IT.

Sanemi let out a breath, his eyes searching Giyuu's. He found no sign of resistance, only question and surprise.

"Listen. If you hate this, just push me away. I won't resist," Sanemi advised, his tone as serious as he could force it to be with his heart flying circles in his ribcage, as if trying to break free.

"Do wh-"

Before Giyuu could finish, Sanemi fit his mouth against the Water user's, one hand tangling in the dark locks of Giyuu's hair, the other slipping down to his waist. He paused when he got no response, and started to move away, but then arms wrapped around his body, pulling him closer and back into the kiss.

They stumbled through the embrace, their legs tangling with one anothers. He didn't know who finally pulled away, but when they did, the two stood there, Giyuu resting his head on Sanemi's shoulder, their breaths harsh and quick—not solely from the kiss.

Then, as if just realizing what they'd done, they scrambled away from each other, looking like embarrassed puppies.

Giyuu was the first to speak, his voice meek—not that Sanemi could blame him. "Do you... like me?" he mumbled.

Sanemi frowned. "I thought I told you to stop asking me questions like that."

"Like what?"

"Questions that I'd commit seppuku before answering," he said, crossing his arms.

"...Sorry," Giyuu said, pouting.

"You better be. Also, the answer should be fucking obvious. If it's not, then you're stupid." Sanemi rolled his eyes, stalking towards him and grabbing Giyuu's arm. "We're going somewhere private now. C'mon."

Giyuu nodded quickly, following him. "I'm not stupid," he muttered, more to himself

"Hm?"

"Nothing."

×××

Since then, Giyuu and Sanemi avoided each other. Mostly from embarrassment and neither wanting to bring up the topic again. After they had left the public eye, they had made out for a bit, being too shy—which was definitely not a word that would usually describe either of them—to talk about anything. It had been exactly a week, two days, four hours, and thirty one minutes since they had parted ways—yes, Giyuu had been counting.

But—finally—they had decided to meet again, talk about it more formally. Rather, Sanemi had invited Giyuu to lunch and Giyuu had agreed. He stood, waiting, in front of a restaurant. Apparently Sanemi had reserved a table but had forgotten to tell Giyuu, so now he was awkwardly hovering in front of the restaurant wishing Sanemi would hurry the fuck up.

After a few agonizing minutes of waiting, Sanemi appeared at last, looking out of breath. His hair looked oddly neat and well kept—unlike usual—and he had a smell of flowers wafting around him.

"Hey," he said, nodding to Giyuu. "Sorry for keeping you waiting. Iguro wanted me to help him with something then Kanroji came by, carrying like fifty bottles of perfume and wanted to test them out on me..." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

A smile crept up Giyuu's lips. "So that's why you smell as what I'd imagine a bee would during the summer?"

"Shut the fuck up," Sanemi said, opening the restaurant door and tugging Giyuu inside.

After they had found their table and ordered some food and settled down, Sanemi rested his arms on the table, clasping his hands together and turned to Giyuu. "So!" he said, as if trying to say something he most definitely did not want to say.

"Hm?"

"...I hate how little you talk," Sanemi grumbled. "You only ever talk to ask the most embarrassing shit ever."

"...sorry??"

Sanemi laughed, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. "Yeah, no, nevermind. Let's just wait for the food."

Giyuu nodded, his heart beating faster than a humming bird's wings.

They waited in silence, conspicuously avoiding each others eyes.

When the food finally arrived, they took the opportunity to busy themselves with eating, pretending like they both had things they wanted to discuss but couldn't bring it up. Halfway through the meal, Giyuu gave up and said, abruptly, "Are we dating?"

Sanemi all but choked on his food, grasping for a cup of water. Giyuu hurried to help him, panicking.

After he had calmed down, Sanemi said, "I'm convinced you're trying to kill me, Tomioka."

Giyuu apologized again. "I didn't mean for that to happen..."

"I know. I was joking. Seriously, you really are stupid," Sanemi deadpanned.

"I'm not!" Giyuu whined.

"See, that was also a joke. Okay, maybe it wasn't. Also you sound like a child. But, uhm, back to the topic," Sanemi said, his tone switching completely.

They lapsed back into silence, staring at each other awkwardly.

"...are we, then...?" Giyuu mumbled, unsure what to make of the atmosphere.

"Uhm." Sanemi coughed, trying to think of a response. "Do you want to?"

Giyuu frowned. "Yes... Do you?"

Sanemi pushed a bowl of salmon daikon towards Giyuu, folding his hands on the table. "Then we're dating."

"What? But you never said if you-"

"I literally did, just not directly. But if you need me to spell it out to you then, yes. I do. And since you do too, apparently, then we're dating," Sanemi told him.

"...okay!" Giyuu said happily, taking the bowl with a small smile.

"Mm. How is your smile so small yet it lights up your whole face..." Sanemi said, resting his elbow on the table and head in his hand, laughing gently.

"I'm smiling? Sorry," Giyuu said, his lips quickly curving to its usual neutral state.

"Why sorry? Your smile isn't terrifying," Sanemi said, frowning.

"Kocho said it's weird," Giyuu mumbled.

"Well fuck her, then! It's not weird, it's... cute."

He flushed. "It's not cute!"

"Says you." A playful smirk rising upon Sanemi's face. "Anyways, hurry up and eat. I don't feel like waiting forever."

"Aren't you going to eat?-" Giyuu asked, looking up from his bowl.

"I finished."

"...oh."

××× (it's js sillyness from here on out)

Sanemi and Giyuu had come to a mutual agreement to not tell anyone of their relationship, or mostly keep it private. Both for the reasons of disliking gossip. From Tengen and Shinobu in specific. They were 99% sure that, if by any way, their relationship would become public knowledge, Tengen and Shinobu would have fun making up theories and teasing them day and night.

So, despite everyone somehow knowing that Sanemi liked Giyuu, the only people that knew of their relationship becoming real were Obanai and... Obanai. Just him.

Sanemi had said that they could tell their closest friends—as long as they swore not to say anything. Giyuu said, quite exactly, "I don't have friends."

Which... lead to Sanemi having to comfort him.

But all was said and all was done and the two found ways to meet in private between missions and training, managing to keep their relationship a secret for a surprisingly long amount of time. Of course, nothing ever lasts, and the Hashira eventually caught on.

Sanemi was a lot better at hiding it, just snapping at Giyuu all the time like usual—which he assured Giyuu that whatever he said wasn't what he truly meant, until they were alone. But Giyuu, on the other hand... Well, Sanemi assumed that he'd be alright at acting given that his face was always so irritatingly impassive. He'd assumed wrong, however, and eventually found that out.

In his attempt to fulfill Sanemi's wishes to not get the word spread out—and Giyuu was dreading the time when Shinobu would find out—Giyuu kept up the act for a good couple weeks. But, since Sanemi would act a lot more affectionate with him, he was less and less used to the previously usual aggression shown to him by his boyfriend (in public) as the days past.

Needless to say, Giyuu was the reason they were exposed. Which unfortunately happened in front of the whole Hashira—right before one of their biannual meetings with Kagaya.

×××

Giyuu had entered the garden a few minutes after Sanemi, on the opposite side, not wanting to cause suspicion. He stood by a tree quietly as the other Hashira trickled in.

Mitsuri bounded up to him, talking about something he wasn't necessarily listening to, his gaze set on Sanemi who was trying to obscure Obanai's eyes from seeing that Mitsuri was talking to another man.

Supposedly noticing the gaze, Sanemi looked up and glared at Giyuu, raising an eyebrow as if to tell him to snap out of it.

Shinobu noticed this.

"Ara ara, are you two fighting again? I'm surprised you haven't shouted at him yet, Shinazugawa," Shinobu commented, a sly smile forming upon her lips.

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, Kocho."

"No need to be so harsh," Shinobu tutted, crossing her arms and shaking her head disapprovingly.

Gyomei agreed. "And please refrain from swearing."

Mitsuri had stopped talking, looking from one Hashira to the other.

Tengen laughed. "Well, there's been a lot less tension between Tomioka and the dog," he remarked, grinning at Sanemi.

"WHAT DOG?!?!" Sanemi shouted, stalking over to Tengen.

Obanai rolled his eyes. "Stop shouting."

Giyuu stood watching everything and wondering if he should speak given that he seemed to be apart of this argument. "What dog?"

Sanemi pointed at Giyuu, though he faced Tengen. "SEE?? THERE IS NO FUCKING DOG."

Gyomei frowned. "Do not shout, you will disturb the Master."

Sanemi let out a breath. "Fine."

Giyuu walked over to where Sanemi and Tengen stood. "Is Shinazugawa the dog?" he asked quietly.

Sanemi let out a gritted scream, looking ready to explode. Tengen looked equally like a timed bomb at its last second, although for completely different reasons.

"I'MNOTADOG!!!" Sanemi screeched, grabbing Giyuu by the shoulders and shaking him.

Giyuu ducked down, stepping away from Sanemi. "Okay."

Gyomei let out the longest sigh in history as Shinobu supressed a laugh.

"My, my, you're talking a lot today, Tomioka-San!" she said, looking up at him.

"Oh."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Well he should stop talking, he sounds like Uzui when his wives get a paper scratch," he said, crossing his arms.

"Is that supposed to be an insult?!" Tengen gasped, looking mildly offended.

"You're the one panicking when they so much as cough!!! You're all 'OH NO ARE YOU OKAY?! Nooo, KOCHO HELP ME!! DON'T DIE ON ME, PLEASE DON'T DIE ON ME—'" Sanemi said, pitching his voice higher.

Giyuu frowned. "I don't sound like that," he and Tengen said in unison—although Tengen with a considerably larger amount of theatrical flair.

"Oh yes you do! And I mean both of you!" Sanemi said, placing his hands on his hips.

Gyomei shook his head and went to go stand next to Muichiro who was staring at a beetle in his hand.

"...I do?" Giyuu whined.

Tengen seemed to have gotten over it quite quickly and was completely unfazed now.

"And worse!" Sanemi said, a mocking smile curving his lips.

Giyuu bit his lip, looking down.

Obanai sighed.

"The fuck are you looking at??" Sanemi asked, raising an eyebrow at Giyuu who wouldn't meet his eyes.

Tengen's mouth curved into an 'o' and he backed away quickly, whispering loudly to Kyojuro, "Shinazugawa just made Tomioka cry-"

"He cries??" Kyojuro whispered back, seeming to think they were actually being quiet.

Tengen shrugged and leaned against a tree, watching.

"...Why are you crying-" Sanemi said, fighting the concern that rose in himself. "You a baby???"

Giyuu looked up at him, pouting, unwilling to respond.

"Ara ara, looks like you shouldn't have said that about his voice! I would be offended as well if you compared my voice to Uzui's," Shinobu said, shooting a mischevious look at Tengen who appeared wounded.

Sanemi frowned. "It wasn't even that bad of an insult," he scoffed, trying with all his might to make Giyuu act fine without saying anything.

Giyuu sniffed loudly, ignoring Sanemi. He promptly turned away, stomping to the back of the garden and crossing his arms, acting as if he was waiting for Kagaya.

"Oooohhh-" Tengen said, a tone of amusement entering his voice. "I didn't know Tomioka could be so petty."

Shinobu raised an eyebrow. "Neither that he could be so affected by what Shinazugawa said."

Sanemi, fed up, sighed and stalked towards Giyuu, pulling him into a hug. "Giyuu, I didn't mean shit, I like your voice, okay??" he murmured, placing a kiss on Giyuu's nose. "Don't ignore me."

Giyuu seemed to brighten up instantly—which made Sanemi irritated because it had probably been an act then—and nodded. "Okay!"

"...ARE YOU TWO FINALLY DATING-" Kyojuro said, much too loudly.

"I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO!!!" Shinobu shouted triumphantly.

Obanai shook his head with a sigh. "Well it was going to get out sooner or later."

Sanemi shot a glare at them. "Oh, fuck off."

Giyuu rested his head on Sanemi's shoulder, a small smile playing on his face.

×××

"I thought we agreed to keep it a secret..." Sanemi whined, as he and Giyuu were on their way back home.

"I'm sorrryyy," Giyuu said, pouting.

"Mmmhmm, well, I'm not giving you cuddles for three weeks now!" Sanemi told him, quickening his pace.

"WHAT?? NO-" Giyuu shouted, chasing after him.

Sanemi laughed, turning and abruptly stopping Giyuu, placing a kiss on his cheek. "I told you to work on differentiating a joke from a serious comment, Giyuu."

"...Well I'm trying!" Giyuu insisted, huffing. "...you're not going to take away my cuddles, are you?"

"No. That would be taking away my own, anyways. But! I'm still not letting you off. Which means I'm not making you salmon daikon for the rest of the week," Sanemi said, dragging Giyuu down the road.

"Awh..." Giyuu whined, trotting after Sanemi.

"Be glad it's Friday."

××× (this last part is completely random and has nothing to do with anything but I js wanted to write this)

Sanemi pushed Giyuu down, pinning him to the floor. He fit his lips to Giyuu's, closing his eyes. Legs wrapped around his waist as Giyuu clung onto him and Sanemi tangled his hand in the tangled mess of his boyfriend's hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

"Sa...nemi," Giyuu breathed between kisses, his face dusted in pink.

Sanemi pulled back, letting him breathe. "Yes?" he murmured, resting his lips upon Giyuu's forehead in a gentle kiss.

"I love you," Giyuu said quietly, his arms tightening their embrace around Sanemi's torso.

Sanemi smiled. "I love you most," he said, pulling Giyuu back into a kiss.

"Tha's... not fair...!" Giyuu whined, trying to avoid the kisses.

"Mhmm, I'm not fair at all then?" Sanemi said, peppering Giyuu's jaw with kisses.

"Nooo..."

Sanemi laughed. "Do you not love me, then?"

"I love you!" Giyuu insisted, turning back and catching a kiss on his bottom lip.

"Love you too, darling."

×××

« Word count: 11,420 »

ELEVEN THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY WORDS OF PURE FUCKING FLUFF.

anyways back to writing angst ;v;

will y'all forgive me for getting lazy and making it rushed because it took me over a month to actually finish this (loss of motivation+procrastination+rereading+editing+long asf+stalling)?

72 notes · View notes

boytoyhalo · 4 months

Note

Your Selkie au is super compelling! Plus you are a very good writer. A question, will you ever go into more detail about Pac's previous captive situation? I'm very interested in how you will adapt Fuga's lore into your au. ( Specially bc of Cell and Cellbit stuff)

I'M SO SO SO LATE BUT IM USING FITPAC WEEK DAY 3 (WHICH IM ALSO LATE FOR) AS AN EXCUSE TO FINALLY, FINALLYYYYY GET THIS POSTED THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT ANON AND EVERYONE ELSE WHO'S AN ENJOYER OF THIS AU I PROMISE IT ISN'T ABANDONED IVE JUST BEEN IN AN END OF YEAR SLUMP

selkie au snippet #4 (i think) || T || slash (ambiguous) || @fitpacweek day 3 (belated its actually day 4) AU day!!!

read the rest of my posts about this au here

"Can I ask you somethin' personal?"

Pac paused, hand suspended halfway towards the checkerboard that was currently serving as him and Fit's way of passing the long hours up in the lamp room of the lighthouse. He kept his eyes on the round piece he was holding as he deliberated on how to answer, sure that if he met Fit's gaze his face would give away his nervousness; "personal" could mean a wide range of topics, most of which would spell disaster for Pac and his poorly constructed web of secrets. He slowly placed the piece in it's spot on the board, fighting to keep his voice even as he responded.

"Mmm, you can ask, yeah. I might not answer, but you can ask." Fit hummed bemusedly, absently flipping his own game piece between his fingers and he contemplated his next move.

"What happened to your leg?" Pac's breath caught in his throat, and Fit rushed to continue, "It's ok if you don't wanna talk about it, I get it. I just- I mean, you've probably figured out how I lost my arm, right?" Pac looked up at the familiar, mechanical clacking of the veteran's stiff wooden fingers flexing in and out of their open position, eyes involuntarily darting to the gnarled pink scarring that crawled from under his collar and up to the side of his head. He quickly returned his gaze to the board, face reddening a little in shame. Thankfully though, Fit seemed far from offended. "Heh, it's okay, I know. It's pretty obvious. And besides, you're a smart man. I'd be surprised if you hadn't assumed correctly. Me though - I'm just brawn, I don't have a whole lotta brainpower up in this thing." He knocked his fake knuckles lightly against his temple, a light smile on his face. "So if you are okay with me knowing, you're gonna need to tell me."

A small, nervous laugh bubbled it's way out of Pac's chest, his face properly flushed now in a mix of embarassment and flattery. "Don't - don't say that about yourself Fit, you're smart! Smarter than me, probably-" He cleared his throat, redirecting his focus to the topic at hand (ha.) "I can tell you, I don't mind. It's just a, it's a tough topic, you know? I need to get my head in the right place." Fit nodded easily like he understood, which Pac supposed he did at least somewhat.

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere." The selkie chuckled a bit, tracing the edges of the paneled glass walls that surrounded them as he considered the best way to talk around the subject; he knew, or at least had decided, that he owed it to Fit to give him some semblance of the truth. After all, they had been growing steadily closed for months now and yet Fit knew so little about his life. Which was out of necessity, or course, but his friend had been so kind and so patient with him, never demanding more information than he was given. Pac needed - no, he WANTED to let him in as much as he reasonably could. He deserved it.

"I..." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, steeling himself to sort through the painful, tangled memories and hoping he would be able to hold himself together. He starts at the beginning, where he won't have to omit too much of the truth, though if anything that makes it harder to talk about. "Mike and I were on a merchant ship off the coast of São Paulo that was attacked by axis submarines a few years back." Fit winced sympathetically, patiently waiting for him to continue as he picked his next words. "We avoided the worst of the blast, but... Mike was in really bad condition, and I had to hang onto him with one arm and a piece of the wreck with the other while I waited for help to come. By the time someone found us, I was too tired and too um- too relieved to realize that we were being taken as prisoners and not as refugees."

It was all technically true so far, just with some important details omitted: like how they were only on the ship in the first place because their pelts were being imported as merchandise by a fisherman who believed himself to be incredibly lucky, and how they weren't taken as prisoners of war as Fit was no doubt assuming. Pac fails to suppress a shudder as he remembers the smug, taunting grin of the man that stood above him on the deck of his supposed refuge, two familiar seal pelts clutched in his meaty fists.

"I'm so sorry you went through that, Pac. You don't have to keep-" Pac cuts him off, already committed to opening up.

"No, I want to tell you. We," He clears his throat again, pushing down the memories of too-small tanks full of too-salty water, of needles and IV drips and white lab coats and pencils scratching on clipboards as he writhed in pain. "We woke up in some sort of facility, I'm not sure where exactly? I think the men who had us were European but that's all I remember, it's all blurry you know? And that's where we met Cellbit and Felps actually-" The image of frenzied black eyes claws its way to the front of his mind against his will, but he can't help a small smile at Fit's attentiveness as his eyebrows raise in intrigue, the checkerboard between them completely forgotten.

"Anyway, we were there for- months, I think. And long story short Cellbit ended up, um. He tried to- to eat my leg off?" It comes out sounding uncertain, Pac having realized there was no way to say it that wouldn't raise more questions. Sure enough, Fit's mouth drops open.

"Wait he- He tried to eat you?"

"Not- it wasn't- aaaaugh, he wasn't himself ok? They were- they were cruel to us, and they injected him with these drugs that made him all crazy and violent and they kinda just. Let him do it? It wasn't his fault, is what I'm saying." Fit looks disturbed, although significantly less so than Pac would expect from most people. He supposes bearing witness to the horrors of war would give you a higher tolerance to this sort of thing.

The thing is, it really wasn't Cellbit's fault. He had been there the longest of any of them, starved and beaten and forced through their cruel experiments since he had been a teenager. He was angry and desperate and hungry, and it was pure bad luck that Pac had happened to be the closest to him when the "researchers" had decided to test the effects of whatever combination of steroids they had injected him with. The ghost of his leg twinges in pain as it remembers the feeling of sharp teeth tearing through it's flesh.

"Wait so did Cellbit..." Fit hesitates, like he can't quite put together what he means to ask. "So he, bit your leg off? but how does that even-" He's interrupted by Pac giggling, and after a moment he joins in quietly with a confused laugh of his own.

"No, no he- he just did enough damage that the sci- that the jailers had to amputate it. And it wasn't that bad honestly, I mean, they weren't kind enough to knock me out before they started sawing but at least I didn't die!" His amusement at Fit's horrified reaction to his nonchalance almost drowns out the echoes of grief that his heart sounds for one of his fellow prisoners who hadn't been so lucky. Pac puts on a wide grin, forcing himself to perk up from his slumped posture. "So anyway, that's the story! Pretty cool don't you think?" Fit sputters a shocked laugh.

"Pretty- Yeah, sure, Pac. That's- *cough*- that's cool, yeah." It's a joke, obviously, but warmth washes over him anyway at the way that Fit lets him control the weight of the conversation like always. He wouldn't be able to handle trying to talk about his past seriously, and he's grateful to whatever higher power may or may not exist for bringing him Fit, who not only cares but understands despite being a human, and who always without fail meets him wherever he needs to be at. Pac doesn't know what he did to deserve a friend like him. "So, okay," Fit's voice snaps him out of the appreciative haze he had fallen into. "How did you guys get out? Were you released, or rescued, or..." He trails off, eyes imploring him to go on. Pac feels his face light up at the opportunity to discuss his favorite part of the tale - the only part, he likes, really.

"Oh, you're not gonna believe it. It was Richas! He actually saved us!"

"What?" Fit exclaims in elated disbelief.

"Yeah! So ok - they were keeping him prisoner too, but he was just a baby, like a, a toddler right? And the guards that were assigned to him treated him like their own kid-" Minus the horrible inhumane experimentation, of course. "- and he somehow, he figured out how to use their sympathy to get them to tell him where they kept all their keys," - and all the pelts - "and then managed to convince them to let him play with us alone. So he came to me and Mike and told us, so we told him to steal us some guard uniforms and figure out where the breaker box was, and after some planning and waiting for the right time we were able to escape by having him shut off the power and filing out with the rest of the guards! Mike wanted it to just be the three of us but I told him we weren't leaving the others behind." For all the suffering they had been put through it had honestly been comically easy - the facility they were at was small and not well guarded, probably funded independently considering that if any powerful government had proof of the selkies' existence everyone including the scientists would have been in a much bigger mess - the world was already at war, Pac doubted anyone was eager to add another variable to the conflict.

Fit crosses his arms and sits back, nodding in amazement. "Huh, so little Richarlyson is a hero! That's crazy"

"What, you don't believe me?" Pac shouts in mock offense.

"No no no I believe you! That kid is a fighter, I know it. So you guys all just stuck together after that? What about Bagi and Forever?"

"Ah, so- Bagi and Cellbit, they're brothers, or uhm- they're brother and sister, yes? And Bagi had been searching for Cellbit since he was taken, and somehow she ended up at the place we were being kept just a few days after we escaped, and she was able to track us from there. She's crazy smart, Cellbit and her both are. And Forever," Well, truthfully, Forever had just swam up to their pod and started playing with Richas one day while they were searching for a new home, and then the two had become inseparable so he just... stuck around. But Pac wasn't sure how to spin that into something that sounded reasonable for a human family, so he just went with "Forever just showed up one day and wouldn't leave." Fit laughed again at that, and this time Pac laughed with him.

It felt unbelievably good to tell Fit about his story like this, even with parts of it changed. Still, he wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth of what he was - he almost did, right then and there, swayed by the sound if his laughter and the mirth in his eyes. But, he reminded himself, that had to be a family decision; it wasn't just his secrets at stake. It was all of them, and as much as he loved trusted Fit and would be happy to gamble his own safety on that trust, he wasn't willing to risk his whole family.

...But, it would be so much easier if he could just say the whole truth. He wonders if Fit would react with the same attentiveness and amazement he gave to Pac's storytelling.

The rest of the day passed with little more of note, mostly filled with idle chit chat and card games. As Fit tries to teach him how to play Kings on the Corners for the third time, Pac finds himself thinking about how much Fit was changing his life without even realizing. A few months ago, Pac had never wanted or even tolerated human company that wasn't absolutely necessary. But now, he couldn't imagine not having the veteran around to occupy his time. In fact, when Fit had taken his first two-week relief back on shore after two months of service, Pac had felt inescapably lonely even when surrounded by his pod. Not even Richas, who had also been upset over the Ramon's absence, had been able to completely cheer him up. And while Pac's always been somewhat fascinated by humans, and had enjoyed watching the previous lighthouse keepers as they went about their work, he had never found himself as interested by any of it as he does when it comes to Fit.

"What is it?" Fit's voice snaps him out of it yet again, cards abandoned as he looks at him curiously. "You're staring."

"Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing! Just thinking about Richas and Ramon - what do you think they're up to?"

"They should still be hanging out with Cellbit, right? They're probably doing puzzles or something." Fit looks at the clock over on the left side off the room. "It's almost six, Bad should be here soon to take over for the night. Do you want to go join them and I can catch up?"

"Um-" Pac flusters, face heating up slightly. He's not sure why the emotional exhaustion of talking about losing his leg is what's bringing all these revelations to his mind, but he can't seem to pull his thoughts away from how much he appreciates the man in front of him. Which.... "Yeah, I think I'll go find them now! I'll see you soon?" Fit nods.

"Sounds good, Pac. I'll see you in a little bit." With a nod back at him, Pac shuffles out the door and makes his way down the tower. Instead of going to find Cellbit and the children, however, he beelines straight to the rocks where his pelt is stashed and hastily wraps himself in it's familiar comfort, sliding into the water before his limbs have even finished morphing into flippers. Surely a nice, solo swim is what he needs to clear his head.

...If only he could take Fit with him.

#stumbles out of the drafts covered in blood #my ass is gonna be late for every single fitpac week prompt at this point cuz dawg why did this take me like 5 hours to get done #anyway. i hope you like it. scream at me in the tags if u like it #ps i have begun outlining and drafting the full fic of this au #most of these blurbs probably wont be in it in full tho just for the sake of not making it 10billion words long #fitpac #selkie au #fitpac week

79 notes · View notes