#but i kinda hate writing

[c-cw-f-saeko]

tell me your name (tesso and seonhee headcanons 2/3)

they moved out of the way so i could take a picture of mt. fuji -> loose recreation of this image 

hi !! i thought i’d finish this tesso and seonhee (separate and together) headcanon masterpost. it covers their individual backstory, how they met and how their relationship grew.

btw i made another headcanon masterpost about the liumang here 🤩 it wouldn't be a bad idea to read it before this one !

i warn that this is the ultimate yapping session LOL so it's long and very image heavy OOPS! there are more than 30 images, i wanted to add more but will stop there for now. check the bottom of the post for some straightforward headcanons (and a TLDR).

also, please pretend the entire timeline makes sense.....i won't beat myself over ageless characters not fitting 100% with documented events 😭 (imo seonhee is 34 and tesso is 37 currently) nvm my guess for seonhee but tesso is surely 37

also, the two fics i wrote heavily tie to this (don't mind the last one). i won't say you need to read them to understand, but i recommend reading them (BC I COOKED!) it'll be linked when needed.

- wang tielin

not completely accurate because he shouldn't have his scars but i'm too lazy to re-do the texture from scratch... sorry tielin 💔

birth name is wang tielin

born in japan. lived in the countryside with his uncle for the longest he could remember.

vowed to his childhood friend to live on the straight and narrow no matter what (hahaha)

a promise to keep was to become rich and share with their family when they grow up.

went to school just because, but had no plans nor dreams in particular. never stirred trouble.

was always kinda bland, but made an effort to become and dress "cooler" after coming to kamurocho (look at the fit please 😭 it was definitely a phase). this is part of the stuff tesso left behind (including his real name). would've preferred no one he knows today met him during that time.

zhao tried time and time again to make tesso show him pictures of him when he was younger but tesso claims to have none. zhao even got seonhee on the task and was ready to put down a good chunk of cash to make it happen. unfortunately for him, tesso was a nobody that truly came out of nowhere according to the geomijul (seonhee just lied 🤩 sorry tianyou).

-> long before the liumang

he came from some city in the country side where nothing really happens. his aunt and uncle took care of him and sent went to school. he was expected to take on his uncle’s restaurant since he was helping out from time to time and that’s what his uncle wanted anyway. 

how can i put it… as long he found a way to feed himself and have a roof over his head, he didn’t have a goal to attain (like a goal career or whatever). he had no aspirations as in “i guess i’ll live” 😍 

though, he had a close friend called liwei. they spent most of their time at school and outside together doing whatever. unlike tesso, liwei had big dreams of finally making it out go the “boring” countryside and establishing himself in a big city, becoming the wealthiest person of his family to provide for his parents. he had a passion about going to especially kamurocho because it was the complete opposite of their current lives. tesso's response to liwei was mostly -> “i support you!” he kinda admired liwei for having determined ambition. 

-> a bit before the liumang 

though, liwei ended up getting killed because a hit was ordered by a bunch of strangers on seemingly the wrong person. not a lot of clues were left behind, but tesso was adamant about it being a mistake since the two of them always swore on being on the straight and narrow (ironically).

so, tesso decided to leave his hometown in the countryside to find out what happened, who killed liwei and how the mix-up happened in the first place.

it lead him to many big cities (like kamurocho) though he navigated a bit clumsily with his words (talking a bit too carelessly about “i’m looking for such such that killed such and such, not knowing the type of place he was getting into), tesso ends up getting jumped by the local chinese mafia at least twice 😭 the clues he finds leads him into yokohama and bro gets jumped again 😭

all to figure out the true culprit was guys from yokohama's chinatown and going up front to them was the worst idea ever. instead, he joins the liumang (at first for refuge as outsider chinese people were vulnerable to trouble between seiryu/liumang and liumang/chinatown). then, in hopes of giving another meaning to his life and eventually seek justice for liwei’s murder.

-> in the liumang 

won't go too much in detail here, but tesso ends up being recruited personally by zhao as a liumang officer through a fight - given the exploit of him being able to scratch his jacket with his claws (and zhao scratched his face across his nose and cheeks with his sabre 😍)

- sakura, the number one hostess

long ago in kamurocho, seonhee used to be an hostess called sakura. remnants of the jingweon mafia rejected by mainland and local koreans (that later formed the geomijul) survived  the best they could with low-level information dealing. they used cabaret clubs to get info out of the local population. 

moving left and right with her mother, it was lucrative enough for her to be able to fend for the two of them — even if it was temporary, she would be doing it until they’d be able to find some sort of stability. 

eventually, the cabaret club was disbanded due to more prominent gangs taking over kamurocho, basically forcing the geomijul out of the city (to later end up yokohama).

in the move, the geomijul was very unstable; most members falling into despair as they were forced out of of home one more time.

seonhee was one of the few people to step up to rally the remaining people together. if they were wavering in the faith of surviving their predicament, the geomijul wouldn't even survive. she did everything she could to make sure fellow members wouldn't walk astray and find them a new home.

being one of people that proposed lodging the geomijul between the seiryu clan and the liumang and reprise their information dealing activities. it was through her sheer determination and in the success of securing the geomijul in yokohama that seonhee was made leader (despite being that young and a woman) jumping over all the oldheads.

fun fact, after leaving the cabaret club, she vowed to herself to never do that type of work ever again.

- meeting for the first time in kamurocho

bro came dressed like that to the luxury club 😭 first timer spotted!! fresh meat here!!!!!!

one promise he made to himself was to realize one of liwei’s dreams, no matter how futile it was. so, he gathered most of his money and decided to light it up for one night in kamurocho in his honour. he ended up going to the first cabaret club he laid eyes on - the one owned by the geomijul.

given the way he was dressed (lol) and the fact he had never been in the city before, seonhee (the number one hostess at the time) was tasked of  tending his table. she usually handled the most "suspicious" customers. 

that's what she thought at first, but past their initial talk, she really did find out he was just young random dude trying out the cabaret clubs for the first time. 

“is it your first time here?” “yeah, there isn’t stuff like this where i live” and so on. funny enough, he turned the conversation back on her a lot so she could ramble about the city and the type of work she did (life in the countryside is boring and uneventful anyway). it caused her to indirectly talk about the geomijul — tesso couldn’t know, her words still applied to the cabaret club dynamic. “the streets are competitive so we are working hard to stay on top!” and how teamwork was the most important thing at the end of the day, etc.

they had a good time talking and tesso was glad to find out city girls were so friendly. he had the impression that he’d be eaten alive, but he was doing ok so far. 

he touched briefly on the real reason he visited kamurocho (thought to himself it would defeat the purpose to not mention it). though, seonhee was smart to not make him linger on the subject by proposing to toast in his honor. tesso agreed, he was there to celebrate and she had made the right call. 

[sorry for the lack of continuity here but i can't being myself to write more atm. will evetually expand that part into a fic.]

- meeting for the second time in yokohama

tesso was always one of the officers zhao relied on the most. for example, he was leading the men sent by zhao after nanba through the city.

so, after mabuchi's overturned coup-d'etat and seonhee taking over the liumang, zhao named tesso as the most reliable man under him and could definitely provide great support in mending the geomijul and liumang together - zhao assured seonhee she could rely on tesso to bridge the two factions.

seonhee was quick to recognize tesso right away, thinking hard about where she had seen such a familiar face before - and the options were very little. it didn't take long for her to realize that it was the same guy she met at the cabaret club years ago. she thought about playing it cool and pretending they never met before, "he probably forgot anyway" and it's not like she looks exactly the same as she did. but she couldn't really shake off the possibility of him remembering. still, she plays it off in front of zhao

for as long as tesso remembers, the geomijul was a very secretive organization and most liumang didn't even know who the boss was and what they looked like. so he rolled with the assumption of having never met them before. so, of course, when he officially met seonhee for the first time, he didn't recognize her. at least at first 😭

- the underworld post mabuchi

because of fusion of the underworld, there was a lot of re-structuring to (such as combining certain cashflows, identifying businesses to assign new leaders to look after them, etc.) it was challenging especially after mabuchi basically left the liumang in shambles and with a lot of defecting members.

tesso helped out sorting out the mess with seonhee personally; it was easier to go through everything with someone that new the ordeal from top to bottom (thanks to zhao). the little time they had was dedicated to fixing the whole organization. at that time, seonhee relegated a lot of leading responsibilities to joongi while tesso did the same with his subordinates.

that's all it was; hours in a corner of the geomijul (usually in the middle of the night) sorting through hundred of files.

at first, it was awkward. tesso had never seen who led the geomijul before and the reality was very far from this expectations. starting at the fact he didn't even thought the geomijul had a woman at its head because of the rumours running the liumang. a detail zhao never bothered bringing up before they met.

zhao's funky and malleable nature was replaced by something more rigid, stern at times but always stood on business. it was different, but tesso went along with it. her style was definitely gonna bring the liumang and geomijul back on its feet.

still, he spoke to her with the same clumsiness as he did with zhao. distant in his words, just like a subordinate should be to its leader. she didn't mind, especially when she did most of the talking anyway.

that's how their routine was at the start: meet, sort documents, leave — there wasn't anything else more to it.

but, something didn't feel quite right.

the more he heard her talk, the more he was sure to have met her before. the words she used, her tone... it felt so familiar. and he had plenty of time to think about it. there was no doubt, she definitely was that girl from the cabaret club...

he kept it to himself and vowed to pretend he's mistaken. the last thing he could do was to bring it up first and be wrong. he would continue to behave the same as he ever did. given their circumstances, he could assume she had left her old life behind as well.

though, irony seeped from his pores, it was stronger than him. the coincidence was a bit humorous; the two of them meeting again with different names and under these unlikely circumstances. he kept his stun under wraps - or at least tried to.

from lingering gazes when she wasn't looking to the way she held herself, tesso recalled the selfless woman he met long ago in kamurocho. despite the heavy facade she always wore, she played it off well, how, in the midst of her words, always passed others before herself.

even with her bolder style, and it's not like she changed much: she was still as beautiful as ever and had that unwavering aura fit of a born leader.

perhaps, he had made his realization too obvious.

ever since zhao presented tesso to seonhee, she knew they had met before. thus, sat quietly with the intent of pretending she was someone else. however, tesso's demeanour changed out of the blue. he seemed a bit more awkward and careful in his words.

though, seonhee resigned on pretending. "tesso? is that how you call yourself these days?" shortly followed with his real name. she asks, chuckling a bit. perhaps, he could've picked something more subtle. he did abandon his birth name for this alias he wasn't really sure whom give it to him. but it doesn't really matter. it just meant was a completely different man now.

it was a bit ironic; they are able to have to shy laugh about it, the ice is starting to melt between them.

- the bridge between the geomijul and yokohama liumang

overall, the union between the geomijul and liumang was welcome by its members. given the situation they both were in - one left without a leader and the other very vulnerable to outside threats. it was worth leaving residual animosity behind and cooperate for the sake of keeping yokohama safe.

so, antagonists to seonhee taking over after zhao were far and between - mainly geomijul oldheads (like seo hancheol 😍 rip bozo) and the few remaining mabuchi enjoyers (like zheng because yes in this timeline bro didn’t get banished out of yokohama).

so, not only did tesso assist seonhee in the merge of the two groups, but he kinda became for the liumang what joongi is for the geomijul: the first commander under the leader and first rep for the liumang. so, in case of trouble or any reference needed from geomijul members, they could ask him if needed. tesso is known to get along with younger folks (canon) so it helps a lot!

overall, the underworld is structured like this:

- factions subordinates (tesso and the geomijul)

yeona calls tesso liumang oppa 😭 she's the one that got tesso to read manga

i feel like yeona would get along well with these two LOL she can get info on joongi from tesso since they work on another level (joongi hides his cringy side from his subordinates). also, she tends to tease seonhee a bit about not being single anymore 😭 in a little sister-big sister type of way. bc like it's not like they ever announced anything, but yeona just picks up on vibes like that 😭 there's banter between seonhee and her, but it's in good faith!! there are so little women in the geomijul, so yeona made sure to stick with

"seonhee unnie, that's your boyfriend isn't it?" she didn't say that, but her eyes kinda did 😭 yeona always knows when something is up about her big sister. this whole exchange happened while tesso was reading his notes LOL 😭

well kinda... because now that seonhee is taken, han-sama (joongi) can stop worrying about seonhee's relationship status.

- advisor to advisor (tesso and joongi)

"Tha- That's not possible! She couldn't have a boyfriend! Some random man from who-knows-where!?" (direct canon quote istg 😭)

"some random man from who-knows-where" that's literally what tesso was to joongi for awhile. 

of course, he knew tesso was one of the closest subordinates of zhao. but he wanted to dig out his history as much as he could before even asking zhao about it. surprise came when he didn’t find much out of the geomijul surveillance system — there was no way to know for sure how nor when he got in the city. however, joongi was adamant about not asking seonhee about it just yet. 

sure, tesso and seonhee never announced they were together (for a very long time). but joongi picked up the smallest changes of seonhee's demeanour and her mannerisms. she tried her best to conceal it, but nothing went past his eye. and it was very clear to him... seonhee was indeed dating that random man.

at first, it was veiled concern but joongi believed seonhee could do better. he thought seonhee could aim for someone more or at least just as good looking than him (im sorry LOL but exhibit A) and someone as refined as her and not so… contradictory in looks and personality (tesso looks rough with a lot of distinctive features but is rather simple). so, first impression wise, it was off to a rocky start. 

despite being the two most important members of the geomijul and liumang, joongi and tesso didn’t really get along. tesso thought joongi was arrogant and preferred dealing with his subordinates instead (like yeona with whom he was able to work well with). 

“don’t mind han-sama. he’ll get over it eventually…” tesso still has no clue what she means by that

the impression of tesso and joongi not getting along wasn't setting a good example for the fellow geomijul and liumang members. while tesso was unsure about the whole thing, joongi struggled moving on for a bit. even seonhee wasn't sure of what was going on between the two.

it took yeona telling on joongi's business back to seonhee for her to set the record straight. no one knows for sure what she has said, but their short discussion was followed by a shy apology from joongi, blaming the geomijul's eternal lack of trust of others for his behaviour and vowed to be as reliable as ever. actually, that was a move from seonhee where she wouldn't let a reason so petty cloud joongi and tesso's relationship further. it was better if tesso didn't know (lol).......

in joongi's opinion, there was too many red flags or dubious points about tesso and couldn’t figure out where nor when they even met (as seonhee never mentioned him before). so, everything came to him as a surprise. 

deep down, the hurt joongi felt was because seonhee didn’t tell him about it first when they shared pretty much everything. he took it as a sign of being unworthy of her trust. understanding it didn’t come from malice, joongi slowly opened up to tesso - it was iffy at first, there was still moments when he was a bit rude despite him. it took time, but joongi trusted seonhee in her decision and agreed that tesso wasn’t so bad after all (“albeit a bit goofy and doesn’t have a presentation as neat as I do”). all that mattered at the end of the day was seonhee’s wellbeing and she seems happy. bro got over himself…

- relationship ladder

(i'm not gonna extend myself too much on this but) the particular thing about them is how the closer they got, the place to work on business changed as well.

this is the fish shop next to eomoni's vow 😭

it started at the corner of the geomijul but surely became eomoni's vow (which is just my first fic LOL) - right at the time when the city was as calm as ever and the liumang and geomijul were combined together. members were more comfortable walking the streets so the need to remain miles of tunnels under the surface wasn't as needed.

still, they usually met in the middle of the night to work on stuff, but just end up eating and drinking the hours away. they got in the habit of playing mahjong against each-other singing karaoke on rare occasion (amongst other things).

next location is qing jin.

omg bro with the three piece suit 😭

it's upgrade from eomoni's vow since the top floor has a dress code 😍 you have to be put together to get in there so dresses and dress shirts are a must.

tesso debated for awhile before inviting her. it was a bit of a bold move, but he knew qing jin would be more of her taste (more spacious, luxurious and an entire different palate) AND it was still very private.

tesso actually picked the artwork (see the tomato picture below) and the room divider is from lin lin

they went a few times, and that was then tesso told seonhee about zhao's apartment complex and eventually advanced the idea to share a spot there. won't go over the details again LOL but you get the idea 🤩

knowing she'd be coming, tesso leaves her sweets 🥹 he's usually more busy on foot (you know assassination quests 🤩), but will drop by before she does if he has other stuff to do for the day.

seonhee definitely spends more time there since she doesn't have to be out carrying missions out on the streets and enjoys the privacy. it's seemingly normal when compared to the gloominess of the geomijul and restaurant row.

- trip to kyoto

this is basically the fic i wrote last year - tesso and seonhee go on a trip to kyoto. (PLEASE READ IT I COOKED!!! 😭) the fic in a nutshell:

i am kidding of course

despite being a higher ranked officer with more responsibilities, he’s always stuck at the “uhhhh taking some time off like that kinda feels unfair” but was bullied convinced by zhao to take some anyway. yokohama had been peaceful for awhile now and his subordinates could run well without him around for a few days.

so take the bullet train to osaka only to come back three days and four nights later. notably, they visit the nonomiya shrine (the shrine of love woooooooohooooo, no it is actually!), tesso dedicates her a poem and they stay in a machiya.

funny enough, i managed to make 3d models pretty close to the original drawings (iykyk) so it's fun!

pretty!!!!!!!!! 😭

- miscellaneous

funny thing they do -> rock paper scissors and they talk to each-other the native tongue of whoever wins for a day. seonhee tends to win often; she's just built like that.

during yua's first year at seiryo, tesso and seonhee attended the parent-student meeting together in place of her uncle (yua's legal guardian at the time). to meet sawa-sensei (yes she lived).

negative trait

tesso : can be too passive | seonhee : lacks humility

positive trait 

tesso: dependable | seonhee: diligent 

strength against the other

tesso: resistant to dominatrix energy | seonhee: resistant to tianyou

their weakness coming from the other

tesso: her cute mannerisms | seonhee: him calling her a specific petname (b......ba......omg i can't [dies of cringe])

serious complaint about the other

tesso: sacrificing health for the sake of fashion | seonhee: sleeps too little

unserious complaint about the other 

tesso: lacks stamina | seonhee: grandpa mannerisms at 37

random quirk

tesso: can fall asleep anywhere | seonhee: rarely laughs from her the pit of her stomach

karaoke? 

seonhee: enjoys anything from koda kumi | tesso: either tone deaf or decent, nobody knows… won’t do anything more than adlibs

hobby they got because of the other

tesso: skincare | seonhee: gardening

seonhee enjoys growing tomatoes, amongst other things. on his part, tesso grows nappa cabbages somewhere on a rooftop in restaurant row (mostly for kimchi ofc).

hobby they don’t share

tesso: shopping | seonhee: running

hobby they tried together for the first time

dancing (thank you yagami)

seonhee is pissed bc yagami made them do something really hard as a tryout. it's not easy, but it's simple at least so they managed!

thing they do when sick

tesso: eats lemons like oranges | seonhee: drinks tea with every single aromatic she can find (ginger, turmeric, cinnamon, peppercorns, etc.)

last thing they fought about

seonhee being frustrated at tesso’s reluctance to take over the liumang, leading her to talk ill of zhao’s ways of leadership. though, seonhee is too proud to apologize first and they didn’t talk to each other for two weeks. even zhao and saeko picked up on the fact they were kinda avoiding each other. 

one thing they struggled with

(especially tesso at the start) treat each-other on equal footing. he was kinda confused at how to behave, whether to be or to not be subservient, like.....

not that it was his second nature, but that's what he used to for the longest time. so, he didn't mind at all.

seonhee was a bit frustrated at the need to spell it out, but it was better that way. at least, everything was clear between them from that point on.

for zhao's costume party [i'll write about this later? maybe?]

(actually seonhee convinced tesso but) they did matching costumes of leon kennedy and ada wong from RE.

TL;DR: i think there are moments when seonhee shares more of herself to someone on equal footing, moments where she's more vulnerable and has room to step away from her idolized self.

i think there are moments when tesso has to put himself first, moments when he must learn to not overextend himself at his own expense.

despite the unlikely circumstances and complicated conditions, i think they would be able to do that together. tesso and seonhee are polar opposites on so many things and i think they can learn a lot from each-other.

i'll make another post with all different outfits they had soon because the volume of models i made 😭

next headcanon post is either going to be ichitesso on dondoko island or yua.....idk yet........

and yes in my book miku was on dondoko island LOL

and before you ask, yes i smoke crack! thank you for coming to my ted talk!

[hungharrington]

Your last blurb has me thinking of Steve and soft early relationship smut where it’s still fairly new and exciting and he’s just so sweet and wants to be close to you 💔💔

this is basically the premise of a little less conversation BUT it’s also such a good prompt anyways that i wanna write something goofy n domestic hehe <3 u put heartbreak emojis but i’m making this goopy sry! and actually it’s not even soft god i’m sorry MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Steve sinks into you in one slow thrust and makes a noise like he’s been stabbed, his forehead to your collarbone.

For one very long moment, he doesn’t move.

“You… you okay?” You ask, all breathy yourself. Your cunt pulses wildly, eager for him to start moving, for some friction— but you’re worried he’s maybe hurt himself somehow. “Steve?”

“I’m good,” He hisses, voice all tight like he is very much not at all good. It blends away as a husky tone threads through his voice. “God, sorry, you just feel—“

He gives a little rock of his hips, pulling out an inch and thrusting back in and a beautiful moan pulls from his lips. He does it again, pulling out a little further and pushing himself back in to your wet, inviting cunt.

He groans again, “Oh my god, I like you so much.”

You startle a laugh, your arms around his neck sliding down so you can pull his head up a bit. Steve’s flushed and looking sheepish by the time you get him face to face. His hips haven’t stopped moving, still small, perfect thrusts in and out, driving you mad.

“Sorry,” He says again, half panting. “Not the best thing to say the first time we fuck but,” He huffs, a throaty moan slipping out in the middle of the sentence. “It’s true.”

You’re beginning to pant too, all your inhales sounding gaspy and high. Your thighs spread more instinctively, pulling them further back to your chest, letting him get in deeper.

“N-No, it’s good,” You say, smiling a bit as he focuses on your face, his lips parted and pupils blown wide. “I really like you too.”

Your words inspire another moan, particularly loud, and his hips rut into you with more fervor, a soft lewd squelching noise beginning to fill the bedroom. Steve moans shakily, peppering sloppy kisses up the side of your neck.

One hand shifts on your hip, sliding up to press your leg further out and unexpectedly, and there’s an audible pop of a joint cracking. Steve stills instantly, still inside you, as he stares down at your hip.

“Oh my god—”

“No, no, it’s fine!” You hastily interrupt, knowing what he’s thinking. You tug his gaze over to you and away from your leg, seeing the smidge of panic in his eyes. “It just cracks sometimes, you couldn’t know that, it’s fine, it didn’t hurt.”

Steve deflates rapidly, giving a relieved chuckle against your chest where he buries his face. When he speaks, his words are all muffled, “I thought I broke your hip.”

You can’t help it, you laugh a bit at that— imagining his panic at the thought. For the third time, you urge his face up and out of hiding, leaning up to nuzzle against his face.

“Quickest way to end a relationship ever,” He jokes, but you can hear the genuine worry beneath his humour.

“No, no, I’m sorry I should’ve told you,” You murmur tenderly, dropping little kisses along his cheeks and nose. His face blazes hot beneath your ardent affection. “But hey, we’re figuring it out, aren’t we? That’s part of the fun, yeah?”

You use your ankles, crossed over his tailbone, to press him into you and Steve gets the message quickly, starting up his gentle thrusts again with a grunt. The soft noises of sex resume, mixed with your combined low moans. The rhythm from before is easy to slip back into. Your cunt throbs hotly, pleasure starting to drool through your stomach.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes heavily, watching your face closely. “Part of the fun. Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

He says it so sincerely that it makes you gasp, clenching around him and eyes screwing closed for a moment. A low whine crawls out your throat.

“God, fuck you for saying that,” You say, with no heat at all. You can’t open your eyes just yet, you’ll combust if you see how handsome he looks right now.

“Yeah?” Steve huffs, sounding a little smug. Your cunt gushes at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you’re right. Figuring this stuff out is the fun part.”

You whine as he fucks in a little harder, the angle just right to have your gut twisting up in pleasure. Your breath is ragged and you finally open your eyes again, swallowing back another sound at the sight of Steve. Messy haired, pink cheeks, reddened lips. He looks hotter than you’ve ever seen him.

“Shut up and hold my hand,” You say— because two can play that game. It works a charm. You can feel the stutter in his hips, see the ripple on his face, hear the whimper in his throat.

Steve keens, tucking his face down into your neck again. His hand searches the sheets til it finds yours, fingers intertwining before he presses your linked hands into the mattress and ruts into your snug cunt harder and faster, deeper.

“F-Fuck,” He stammers, a moan lilting the word. “I like you so much.”

You can’t even laugh this time round because your mind is starting to melt a little at the edges— but it makes the pleasure all that much better, knowing he means it.

[stxrslut]

reader crying her eyes out because rafe yelled at her..so me omg😢

guys help I made the situation for this so dark 😭

It happens after you’d accidentally walked in on doing some of his business, or as any sane person would call it, hiding a dead body.

you’re in shock, shaking with pure terror as he drags you inside. “I fucking told you— no look at me.” he grabs you by the shoulders once you’re inside “I told you not to bother me while I’m working. right— and you ignored me.”

“Rafe-” you whimper, trying your best not to fall apart then and there. he cuts you off, yelling now, “no. I’m talking now. you do not get to do that! all of this shit I do— all of it is for you, okay? It’s to keep you safe. I cannot fucking do that if you’re getting your nose in business that isn’t yours. so now we’re both in trouble. and that’s on you.” he steps back, chest heaving as he runs one hand through his hair.

you look up at him, lip wobbling as the tears begin to fall. “I’m sorry.” you wail, officially letting the waterworks go.

he looks down for a second before sighing “alright… alright. don’t cry, okay? you’re fine.” he steps forward, hovering a hand over your shoulder before bringing you into his arms.

you cry into his chest, clinging to him desperately. you’re so terrified, and even though he’s the one who your caught carrying a corpse, you can’t help but seek comfort in him. maybe it’s manipulative of him, but you’ll worry about that another day.

“what- why were you- I don’t understand!” you sob, doing your best to make eye contact with him but failing. he doesn’t answer your question, he just shushes you, pulling you back into his embrace and kissing your temple.

“I’ll explain it alll later baby… but uh— for now… why don’t you try calm down then.. we can get ready to go on a little vacation for a bit, that sound good to you?”

you think it over for a moment, because realistically it sounds like he wants to take you with him while he lays low from the cops, but at this point you cannot even think logically, you just want Rafe. “sounds good.” you nod, sniffling sadly.

“good… okay, good. c’mon let’s get you calmed down. go wait on the bed a’ight”

[theloveinc]

I also like the idea of Bakugo coming home from a long, overseas mission only for you to be surprised when you meet him at the airport cuz he’s twice as beefy and four times more scary looking.

[toytulini]

listen im ace and im pro kink at pride and whatever, but the way some of yall are wording your posts in response to the backlash against it is uh. really taking me back to the ace shitcourse era.

yall know theres nothing wrong with being a "virgin", right? that its not inherently shameful to have not had sex, to never have sex, even if youre not ace, even if you do want to have sex someday, like, its fine that you haven't had sex?

maybe if your problem is that theyre trying to police your behavior and shame you for expressing your sexuality, you can say that? instead of resorting to "haha stupid virgin gets no bitches" like my god. do you not hear how fucking regressive that attitude is? i know, i know, youre "joking".

get a better joke

[thedemises]

. . . SAVE A HORSE, GO ON A RIDE WITH THE COWBOY! featuring boothill!

notes! . . . y'know the phrase, “save a horse, ride the cowboy”? well, I decided to-do something about it with boothill... except it's sfw and more like “save a horse, ride with the cowboy” cuz i dont do nsfw here >:/. god give me acceptance for how boothill is so ooc here- 😭😭 idnk how to write his character properly, and does he even have a horse?? I don't remember seeing a horse when his character and banner got leaked, so let's just pretend he does have one for the sake of K'hailreigh for this plot. 💀

imagine returning the horse boothill had been searching for all day after it got the chance to escape through the tall fences the moment they were opened, his eyes widen at the sight of his companion with you guiding alongside it. normally, his horse wouldn't follow after someone else's orders other than him... and it behaves pretty feisty and rough with people who isn't him.

boothill is relieved to see that his trusty horse hadn't been injured, briefly thanking you as he goes over to fuss over his stallion. you can't help your gaze wandering and examining his figure, in awe of the metallic and cyborg parts of the cowboy in front of you. sure you might've seen people having artificial and metal parts attached to them, but this man right here just plainly looks like a robot if it weren't for his humanly head.

boothill notices you eyeing every inch of him, glancing from the lasso that hangs at his hips to the pistols to his arms and to his legs. he glares a wolfishly smile at you, baring the shark-like teeth that you gaze in short surprise at, and asks in a teasingly tone, “like what you see, darlin'?”, observing how you blink owlishly at him. but then, he's becomes sort of surprised when you nod your head and confirm that—yes, you like his appearance and how the color scheme matches altogether, while indirectly  commenting how he's a good-looking cowboy.

boothill, after his turn of blinking at you, grins and narrows his eyes with an intrigued look in them; amused by you and how you don't seem in the slightest.. nervous or terrified in his presence. you perked the cyborg's interest.

finishing the small talk with the man, you mention that you'll be needing to go somewhere for an errand and boothill takes the opportunity to offer a ride there on his horse—as a thanks for retrieving his horse, taking in your surprised expression with a grin as he ends the sentence with a “darlin'”. he insists, even if you refuse, so you decide that it'll be quicker to go in a horse ride with the cowboy than rather walking by foot as you were given no other choice.

with boothill's assistance, you were boosted onto the horse and instructed by him to hold on as he looks back at you, flashing a toothy grin and a finger tilting his hat just slightly for a short moment before you and him rode off towards where you were needed to be at with his horse. startled by the increasing speed his horse was going, you instinctively grasp onto the cyborg cowboy's built body in order to not fall off during the ride accidentally—boothill grins at your expression, his laughter going with the wind, “better hol' on tight for now, sweetheart. this'll be a rough ride! i'll get ya to where yer headin' in no time!”

© thedemises 2024. all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own. ━━  word count: 508.

[kaiserouo]

wow our little ghost is really trying to sell itself here (prev?)

Bonus

[wikiangela]

several sentence sunday

tagged by @hippolotamus

sooo bucktommy won me over, i couldn't resist anymore 🙈 so here's a bit of them after their date lol just to be clear, im still 10000% about buddie but im gonna enjoy this while it lasts bc I feel like this is exactly what buck needs rn lol I just wanna write him be giddy and stupid and flustered about a boy even if that's not eddie haha (also, I didn't get the Tommy hype before but after seeing him everywhere for two days... I get it now 🥵)

___

"(...) We should do this again.” Tommy says, turning fully towards Buck, and Buck’s eyes immediately find his lips. He can’t wait to kiss him again, and this would be the time, at the end of the date, wouldn’t it?

“We should.” Buck nods, licks his lips, eyes darting up to Tommy’s eyes. He’s smiling softly, just looking at Buck. “I-” he starts, and then thinks, fuck it, and this time he makes a move, as he leans across the console to grab Tommy’s chin, like he did Buck’s in his kitchen, and bring him in for a kiss. Tommy immediately reciprocates, and Buck melts against him, and then when Tommy’s calloused hand covers his cheek, it just feels so- so different, in the best way possible. This kiss lasts longer than the first one, each of them constantly coming back for more, but it’s as gentle and tender as that one. Buck loves it, and can’t help smiling into it. He wants more. “Hey.” Buck says, finally pulling away, licks his spit-covered lips nervously. “Do you- do you maybe wanna come in for a beer?” he asks shyly, and at Tommy’s surprised expression and raised eyebrow he realizes it might sound like he’s inviting him for more than a beer, and he panics again. “I- I- I mean, just a beer. And maybe- maybe more of this.” he pecks Tommy’s lips again, not able to resist a smile. “But just a beer. I don’t think I’m- But who knows, maybe-” he stumbles over his words, because the truth is, he wants Tommy, he wants… he wants so much, he wants to experience so much for the first time – it’s just that he’s not sure if it’s not too quick for this relationship, and for him.

“Evan.” Tommy interrupts, bringing his other hand up, now cradling Buck’s face in both, thumbs moving soothingly along Buck’s cheeks. “Your pace, remember? No pressure, no rush.”

“You’re really cool, you know that?” Buck whispers.

“So I keep hearing.” Tommy chuckles, and it’s adorable. He kisses Buck again, and the butterflies in Buck’s stomach go crazy. Fuck, he doesn't remember the last time he felt this giddy and excited and just light. “I’d love to come in for a beer.”

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @bidisasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @tizniz @your-catfish-friend

[r-g-d2]

COSMIC BEINGS DRAWINGS DUMP‼️

I love cosmic beings

These losers

these- uh- funny guys(?? too bc they DESERVE, THEY NEED, MORE LOVE 🫵

srsly I need more Cosmo and Orbo content...

Request!

Them playing games :))

Funny request hah

.

The original request was first image, But I- uh- Took the idea and got the second heheh

they ar so dumb

Mini Kheiros/Sammy I did while talking to a friend

he such a goober ngl, I like him, But I still dont learn how to write his name oof-

___

Kinda, special drawing

The VA of Cosmic Owl passed away some days ago and I just knew two days ago... I- Rlly was sad, But I already expressed all lets say- So I just wanted to do a simple thing, "simple" bc like I just said, I already expressed all the day I knew, But anyways- you know- I needed this..

Still I dedicate not just this one but all the drawings of Cos in this post to this man.. 💛🦉

Just that 💛

___

Ok hope you like all drawings!

This post took me so loong! dang-heh-

And I just wanna say- I'll disappear next month, kinda- again- bc I ALMOST didn't post for all this month- DANG, ehem- since Im starting school and I just wanna see how I go w it, So Im probably not gonna post in kinda loong time

Just that! :))

I dont have much more to say or show Byeee!!

💛

[jeonqkooks]

to the loml, my beloved, may i play in the event game? hehe ;u; i would like your take on yoongi + "did i say that out loud?" + "stop looking at me like that!" ♡

i love you and congratulations again, jen oi ♡ muah~

sunlit sunday. (myg)

pairing: yoongi x reader prompts: "did i say that out loud?" + "stop looking at me like that!" genre/warnings: best friends to lovers (?), college au, fluff; mentions of drinking, barely edited word count: 1.1k note: i do not know what this is, nor why it took me over half a year to finish this drabble. cee my love you sent this ask in august 2022 and it took me literally forever to post i'm sorry 😭

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

The sun is already rising, but poor Yoongi hasn’t slept a wink. Partly because he can’t feel his left arm from where it’s being used as your makeshift pillow, partly because last night you told him you were in love with him and proceeded to pass the fuck out.

There was a party - there’s always a party every weekend when you’re in college - that Yoongi didn’t even want to go to. He just wanted to spend his Saturday night holed up in his apartment with you, pizzas and a movie. It gives him something to look forward to at the end of every week, partly because he's nothing if not a creature of habit, but mostly because he gets to spend time with you alone.

But tonight, you wanted to attend, and it didn’t take a whole lot of convincing for Yoongi to (begrudgingly) accompany you to a frat house on campus to spruce up your weekly routine. He would always complain, but you both know that he’d do anything you ask.

That's why he didn't really have anybody else to blame when he found himself having to tuck a very intoxicated you into an unfamiliar bed at 2:30AM in this greasy frat house. It wasn't exactly the best idea, but it was the only one he had. Yoongi wasn't exactly sober, and you were too drunk for him to haul you home.

You babbled nonsense the whole time he was peeling off your shoes and outer layers so you could sleep more comfortably. It was difficult - you're a squirmy drunk - but he managed in the end. When it comes to you, Yoongi has had years of experience, having known you from your early high school days together and being inseparable ever since.

He had gotten under the covers with you, about to try and coax you to sleep when you sighed dreamily at the ceiling, looking so content with whatever thoughts in your head that it felt like you could float away.

"I'm in love with Yoongi," you said, so softly that Yoongi wasn't sure if he heard you right. But even in the midst of tipsy uncertainty, his heart went berserk like it was going to run away from his body. Then you popped the ringing bubble in his head with a sharp giggle, uncaring, so oblivious. "Stop looking at me like that! Did I say that out loud?"

He didn't know what to say, even though it didn't really matter anyway. You weren't in a state of mind to comprehend everything he wanted to ask, everything he wanted to say to you. Yoongi kept his eyes on you while you kept yours on the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"You did," he muttered, averting his eyes, and you tittered again.

"Don't tell him." You turned to look at him with a finger pressed against your lips. He wasn't sure who you thought you were talking to but he didn't correct you; there was no point in doing so anyway. "It's supposed to be a secret."

He doesn't remember what he said next, if he even said anything at all. Though it doesn't matter because you promptly passed out afterward, and it's unlikely that you'll remember any of it when you wake up.

Everything from then until now is just a jumbled mess to Yoongi, his thoughts full of what the fuck's and his chest full of borderline painful palpitations every time you snuggle further into his warmth, seeking comfort in your sleep.

The thing is, he knows that you were being honest. You meant it, because you're nothing if not an honest drunk; you've disclosed your fair share of embarrassing secrets whilst under the influence before. But never would Yoongi expect to hear those very specific words coming from your mouth, words that reflect the same sentiment that he's been trying to profess to you for years now.

They rolled off your tongue, just like that.

If he's being honest, it wounds him a little bit. He's spent hundreds and hundreds of days thinking about the perfect way to phrase his affection for you and yet, you managed to spill your feelings out without a single care in the world.

Granted, you were drunk out of your mind, but still.

Eventually, you stir from your slumber when blinding sunlight slips through the cracks between the curtains. Yoongi watches you frown before your eyes are even open, then you try to stretch for a brief moment as you look around the strange bedroom, partly alarmed, partly confused.

When your gaze finally lands on him, he catches the way your eyes soften, the edges of your confusion melting away even though he doubts that the sight of him answered any of the questions in your head.

"Morning," you say, your voice heavy with sleep.

"Morning," Yoongi replies quietly.

You share a look, one that means completely different things for the both of you. You're probably hungover, and Yoongi is in love.

So in love that he doesn't even care to berate you for making him spend the night in a random bedroom in a disgusting frat house, where a pair of (likely dirty) boxers is casually chilling draped over a chair. So in love that it expels all sense of fatigue from his body until the only thing coursing through his veins is unfiltered fondness for you and the way your eyes crinkle when you smile.

So in love that he would wait until you're awake enough to ask him to walk you home, ask him to make you your favorite hangover breakfast while you take a long, hot shower to feel like a human being again. He'd wait until you're fed and caffeinated before joining you on the couch, prepared to kill the remaining hours of the day together. So in love that he'd only wait until that moment to tell you the things he's always wanted to say, the things that have always been on the tip of his tongue but he's never been brave enough to utter them to you.

He'd tell you what you need to hear, albeit with a bruised ego that you beat him to the punch but he'd pretend that you didn't. It's a secret shared between only Yoongi and the four walls of this bedroom.

He's so in love that he would endure staying up all night in this dump when he could've been in his own bed, comfortable and clean and cozy. But it's okay because it's Sunday and the sun is out, and you were the one sleeping peacefully next to him, despite how your head made his arm go numb. It's okay because love has a tendency to make awful things feel better, even if love is only stored in a set of sleepy eyes staring at Yoongi and a whiny voice asking to go home.

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 10.03.2024]

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ too busy being yours ❞ ─ a we could be love blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!rossi!reader. summary: you're pretty much in love with your boss. and he's pretty into you too. but if being your boss wasn't bad enough, he's also your dad's best friend. content warnings: valentine's fluff! no romance involved tho. just friends being friends and sleeping into each other's embrace. as friends do. might not be totally inclusive to full italian girls (?). two idiots in love making rossi seem worse than he is. word count: 2k+. a/n: the bau!rossi!verse begins. i never proof read anything.

being single during valentine's day was already bad, hearing your own father's romantic plans for the evening only made it worse. the humiliating truth of not having the same game as david rossi was daunting, but you didn't have the italian vibes to use in your favor like he did, and you were pathetically in love with your boss and that made every single man look awful in comparison.

"what about you baby rossi, any saucy plans for tonight?" your eyes shoot daggers at derek for making the question, bringing everyone's attention to your warm cheeks.

"apparently i have to look for a ride home, saucy enough?" your father shrugs with an apologetic glance at your answer, he usually took you home but wouldn't have the time to today. that's what you get for carpooling.

between dates and the bar, you were getting out of options and was about to accept your fate: you would have to take the subway. you weren't sure how spencer did it so often, specially with his particularity with germs and people, you absolutely hated it, it was too tiring, too loud.

you run up the stairs to get to hotch's office, handing him your reports, slightly out of breath.

"you were quick with these." it's a praise with a hidden quip: you were always the last one to hand yours, not only a natural procrastinator, but you were the last one to join the unit, you still struggled with some of the bureaucracy.

"trying to avoid rush hour, taking the subway today."

"i can take you home–" he seems surprised by his own response, or by how quick he offered that ride. your address is somewhere on your files but he doesn't truly know where you live. he couldn't even shrug it off saying it was on his way home.

"don't you have a date? i mean–wouldn't this make you late for anything?" you hope dearly that you didn't make it obvious that you just wanted to know if he was seeing someone. it's obviously too much to hope for, he knows.

and he smiles sweetly, softly. he tries his best to keep it innocent. "no plans today, just me, my bed... and some popcorn i think."

you chew on the inside of your cheeks softly thinking about your next move. hotchner had slipped through conversation earlier that jack had a sleepover planned, so by that logic, he would be alone, just like you. 

he wasn’t exactly subtly about his interest in you, but he somewhat tried to conceal it, asking him out on a date seemed too pushy. 

“those are exactly my plans… you could maybe stay over for a bit, then? maybe?” your eyes glow with the expectation as you ask him, fingers busy with your necklace to soothe yourself. “we might have to pick garcia up at some point of the night, though, if that’s okay.” you were always tasked with drunk penelope anytime you bailed on them as a punishment. 

you didn’t mind, drunk garcia was fun garcia, but if aaron accepted your invitation, you hoped there wouldn’t be any interruptions. 

movies and popcorn are innocent enough, that’s the first thing on his mind, it can be innocent, and even when he tries to talk himself down of what could lead to very bad bad choices, your mention of garcia tips him over the edge. it was just friends hanging out. definitely. 

“yeah… i mean, yeah sure, that sounds fun. i have to keep myself awake until later than usual in case jack calls me anyway.” you nod more to yourself and offer him a shy smile, just before he hands you more papers. “oh yeah–you’ve got yourself a few more work hours, though.”

the ride to your place is anything but silent. your phone keeps buzzing, signaling the BAU gals group chat wants details of what’s happening but you and aaron barely notice it as conversation flows easily between you two.

you ask him about jack’s sleepover and the sleeping later ordeal and he tells you how on his first sleepover jack gave up and called him to pick him up at almost 1am. “when the fun was over he just wanted his bed. driving the moment i woke was a terrible experience.” 

that was years ago and he still waits for that clock to hit 1am before sleeping. just in case his baby needs him.

you can feel your insides turn into mush, the way he cares always from the smallest to the biggest ways reminding you of why falling for him was so desperately easy. “that’s incredibly sweet of you, aaron.”  

the informality catches him off guard, but he welcomes it, loving the way his name sounds leaving your lips. “he’s a sweet kid, much more cooperative than drunk garcia, i can assure you.” 

you laugh at his joke and it’s silent for mere seconds before he finally asks the question, the one question on his mind since you walked into his office earlier. why? why don’t you have a date? why aren’t you at the bar? how can you even be single?

“i don’t have a lot of free time, aaron. i’m… busy.” you both know that’s not a lie. but you could try to make time if you were interested, you could’ve gone out today. unfortunately, when you found yourself having feelings for someone, you couldn’t bring yourself to look for someone else. all the other men seemed so incredibly dull compared to the one taking you home, and you couldn’t but compare when you were with any other. 

“you had free time tonight.” he’s pushing it and he knows it. he shouldn’t be asking so many questions about your dating life, he shouldn’t pry when he knew himself well enough to be certain he wouldn’t make any moves on you. younger, beautiful, funny, smart… and the daughter of his closest friend. all the reasons he was so smitten were also the reasons he told himself he shouldn’t lead you on. 

you deserved someone your age, with no baggage, or at least one lighter than his. someone with more time to spare, who could take your mind out of the job and not keep you on it. and definitely someone who didn’t go to jazz clubs with your father. 

still, his hands are firm on the wheel, turning left to get to your house. 

“i’m not wasting my free time on guys i meet at bars on valentine’s day.” he smirks, finding a good spot to park his car without saying anything else. he’s delighted by your answers even though it isn’t fair.

he gets ready to leave the car but you stop him, tapping his thigh lightly (it sends shivers up his spine but he’s getting good at pretending not to feel it). “better get your go bag.” you see confusion on his eyes and that known furrowed brow directed at you. “you’re not gonna be comfortable in a suit. you can change to your spare.”

he hadn’t thought about that, it would definitely defy the purpose of a quiet relaxing movie night if he was all dressed up in his well known work attire. so he does as instructed and gets his go bag from the backseat, even though he’s getting more and more anxious by the second. the innocent friends movie night he made himself believe looking more and more like he was sleeping over. 

you give him the tour of your apartment–a gift from your dad when you graduated from the academy, not that anyone really needed to know how spoiled you were–and show him the bathroom where he could change. or shower. he has his go bag after all. 

you go to your room to do just that, trying not to let the thoughts of him possibly being naked and under your shower flood your mind as you take the quickest shower you’ve ever taken in your life. 

as you move from your own bathroom to your closet to get your pajamas you’re suddenly very aware of what’s really happening. you really did invite him to your apartment. this was a date. but it couldn’t be a date, did he see it as a date? being so very infatuated by him and knowing well he had some sort of interest in you was very very different than acting on it. your dad would kill you if he knew. and aaron. and you again, possibly, if he knew it was your doing to initiate it. 

instead of your usual thin fabric short shorts and tank top you wear to sleep, you decide to be decent, black silk loose pants, old university t-shirt, cotton robe, socks and fluffy slippers. anything that could maybe show you are totally just thinking about watching some fun movies with a friend. 

you take two blankets and two pillows with you as you leave your bedroom, the sound of the shower being turned off making your feet almost run to get everything ready. the couch turning into a bed with a bit of struggle to unfold it. you made sure each blanket and pillow were on each side of it, as far as possible from each other. 

popcorn! you need to make popcorn, that’s the first thing you think when you hear the door unlocking, going straight for the kitchen and putting a bag on your microwave. as it popped you got cheese strings and butter out of your fridge. if you couldn’t blow his mind in better ways, you could at least get him hooked to your special cheesy buttered popcorn. 

“i’m making myself way too comfortable, i think.” his voice is smooth and relaxed and when you look back he’s leaning into the frame, his hair is wet and he’s wearing matching black sweatpants and a hoodie you’ve never seen him wear. 

for a moment you just want to kiss him and forget about any debate morality could bring to ruin it, but instead you laugh and take the popcorn out of the microwave and drop its content into a bowl, spreading some butter on top and dropping a few strings of cheese on it before putting the bowl on the microwave. 

“casa mia è casa tua.” your italian is a bit rusty but it still works as a charmer, “go pick us the most terrible looking romcom you can find while i finish this.”

“romcom, huh?” he asks and you can just hear the teasing in his tone. 

“you didn’t think we were going for some documentary, right?” you use a spoon to mix the popcorn to the melted butter and cheese when it’s out of the microwave, and follow him to the living room, “we’re gonna eat this cheesy, buttered, absolutely heart-swelling popcorn and make fun of some terrible, terrible movie love tropes.”

you do just that, and it’s awkward at first, the both of you wanting to be closer but also not feeling like you should cross that barrier, but as the night went on, the more you shared that popcorn, the more laughs you shared, the closer you got on that couch, specially after he tried to rub his greased fingers on your face, making you do the same to him. 

one movie becomes two, and then three, and somewhere in between him telling you about the dates he would take haley as a teen, making you laugh at how sweet and romantic he always was, and you telling him about your first kiss and how terrible it was, you both fall asleep. your head on his chest, his arms around you. 

jack doesn’t call, and if emily tried to get you to pick up garcia you definitely didn’t see it. 

it’s the first time you both share such an intimate moment, and it is just that. sleeping in each other’s arms. aaron even wakes up in the middle of the night, 3am striking on the clock on your wall. he wasn’t even able to freak out and overthink anything about it, the comfort of your smell making him hug you tighter and close his eyes again. 

he could deal with it in the morning.

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Anyways rlgl au Moon is the kind of guy who loves to cook and has an aesthetic blog about foods and recipes. But he really doesnt like eating because then he has to have his chest compartment cleaned and thats never nice.

So Sun and Y/N come running like a couple of pavlovian dogs whenever they hear his phones camera go off.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

[chuunai]

hello !! idk if you’ll see this but for the 100 followers celebration, may i please request pm! chuuya + (17) wondering if they deserve you or not + (6) “just look at you, then look at me” ?? maybe it’s like he gets doubts and worries, especially when he sees reader getting interactions with others and considering his job and what it means for the reader? but… um, could it end with fluff, please? also, could it be a fanfic, pretty please? i do apologize if this is way too specific !!

once again, congratulations on 100 followers, you totally deserve it, your writing is absolute heaven !! have a nice day/night/afternoon !!

I love specific people and things no worries and thank you I adore your fanfics too!

✧˚ · . right by you - chuya nakahara

he doesn’t deserve you. not when you’re so good.

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, unrequited love (supposedly), SFW → minor (barely any) angst with happy ending.

Chuuya Nakahara didn’t deserve you.

Nor the air you breathed, or the space you shared with him at the Port Mafia. He didn’t deserve any of that.

Chuuya had always considered himself an okay person. He killed people, but it was for the sake of Yokohama’s safety—subsequently, your safety. In the eyes of others, he’s a piece of shit through and through (that, he doesn’t deny). But in your eyes, he’s just a guy trying to do what’s best for his subordinates and city. In your eyes, he’s just Chuuya.

It’s a bit odd, honestly.

Having feelings for his subordinate.

It fucked with his mind too.

The Port Mafia was no place for love. Look at Higuchi pining over Akutagawa like a lovesick high schooler—that’s clearly going nowhere. So it’s not like he’d have a chance with you, anyway. Not when you’re so good, too. So, so much better than he ever could be.

Someone like you—who regularly brought cookies to the Mafia’s HQ to ‘boost morale’—didn’t deserve a fake human like him. One who was a vessel of a god. The fake Chuuya Nakahara. No matter how much evidence said he was the real one, he couldn’t believe it. Just look at him, then at you. No, you’re the real human.

And he’s a fucked up mess that also happens to be a murderer.

Great boyfriend material.

In the middle of his self-deprecation, a knock hit his door. Probably Tachihara, that smug bastard. Not like he was doing anything, anyways. Taking one last look at the ceiling of his office, Chuuya called out.

“Yeah yeah, door’s open. Come in.”

Instead of that redhead, it was you.

Shit.

He was sure your shift was over. It was what, eight at night now? You got off right around now, so you had no reason to see him. Yet his cheeks flushed up anyway as a pointless attempt at faking a cough was done to hide the obvious reddening. Mentally cursing himself for for being so childlike with his feelings, he sat up in his chair, pretending to write on a document.

“Need something?”

He’d do it. Just ask. Wait—that’s pathetic.

“No, but the others and I are going out to drink. You wanna come?”

Chuuya perked up immediately, already imagining the taste of red wine sliding down his throat and warming up his body. He loved drinking. Helped to get his mind off his problems—namely, you. His fingers drummed on the wood of his desk, a small hum drifting from his lips as he thought of the potential consequences.

He could get drunk and act stupid in front of you. Or accidentally harass you. Or end up blabbering his head off about Dazai again. Or-

Snapping out of his daze when he saw you awkwardly standing there waiting for his response, he shrugged.

Fuck it. It’d be fine.

“Sure. Usual bar?”

You nodded, fiddling with the hem of your sleeves. You always did that when you were nervous. A small wave of worry washed over him. Did he make you nervous? Shitshitshit. What’d he do?

Standing up, he quickly organized some papers—recent missions and current objectives—into piles on his desk, palms slightly sweaty from the fact that you were watching him. Chuuya didn’t like how he always was a wreck around you. It wasn’t gonna make him good in your eyes, is what he thought. Lord, he wished he knew what would make you like—no, love—him back.

“Let’s go now then, yeah? We can get a head start on the others. Don’t want Tachihara to brag his ass off about being first again.”

He offered a small attempt at a smile, cheeks rosy and all. It was nothing compared to when you smiled, though. Like an angel. His angel. Holy fuck. He’s really gotta stop daydreaming about you when you were in the damn room with him.

Leading the way, he carefully kept to your side throughout the long hallways of the Port Mafia’s HQ, occasionally stopping to discuss a quick matter or two with one of his assistants. When someone bumped into you, he hesitantly placed a hand on your back to keep you steady and remind the other grunts that you were under his protection.

Although that still didn’t stop the dreamy stares at you.

Or the jealousy that Chuuya felt after. He knew that he wasn’t good enough for you, and he respected that. But these guys didn’t. No, they thought they somehow had a chance with you—a living, breathing angel—and that irked him. Shouldn’t they be grateful for just getting to see you? He was, anyway. He’d take all that he could get.

Including this short walk.

Lasting for only three minutes or so, soon you two were out in the chilly night air of the parking lot. You shivered a bit, cheeks and nose turning red and numb from the coldness. Chuuya couldn’t help himself as he nudged you closer to his side to be a bit more warm. Kouyou always said he was a human oven, after all. Walking to his car—nothing too fancy, yet not quite cheap—, like a true gentleman, he opened the door for you to sit in the front passenger seat next to him.

He always drove you to the bars. You always drove him back.

A fair deal, in his opinion.

Starting up the engine, Chuuya sneaked a glance at your profile. Nose tinted with red, cheeks puffy from the cold and eyes staring back at him. Wait. Huh? His face went red. Again. Now the both of you were flushed, and not from the cold.

“Want my coat? You uh, seem pretty cold.”

Please don’t say no, please don’t say no, please don’t-

“Yeah. Please.”

Chuuya shrugged off his black coat, carefully laying it on top of you like a cozy blanket. His hands brushed against your arms as he snugly placed it on you. You looked good under it.

“We’ll warm up with the alcohol later. I know you don’t like whiskey, but a shot should warm you up.”

You made a face, sticking out your tongue and giggling slightly while he started up the car, slowly backing out of his parking spot.

“That’s shit’s nasty, Chuuya-kun. Just like your wine.”

If Chuuya had one complaint about you, it’s that you didn’t like red wine.

“It’s an acquired taste, you brat. If you’d try it out more often, you’d like it.”

His heart warmed up at the sight of your smile, making sure to keep up the banter between you two as he drove to the nearby bar. His fingers twitched, aching to hold yours. To warm you up, too. He didn’t want his coat hugging you. Chuuya wanted to hug you. Was that too creepy? Hopefully not.

Traffic was a shitshow. Both of you agreed that more and more idiots were on the road lately, cursing at the car in-front of you. Thankfully, it didn’t last too long. Ten minutes later and he was pulling into the familiar parking lot of the same bar you two had been going to for a while with the others. A nice small corner bar, retro and one that didn’t mind their eccentricity.

Chuuya didn’t take back his coat from you as you wore it inside.

Ushering you into their usual corner booth, he ordered you two a small drink to start—just a vodka soda. Nothing too much. Although it got him slightly buzzed, a warm feeling calming him down a bit as he sipped. It felt nice. Just the two of you. No rowdy Tachihara. No Higuchi simping over Akutagawa or Gin staring at everyone.

Just you two.

“So uh, when are the others getting here?”

How much time did he have with you alone is what he really meant.

“Oh- let me check real quick. Sorry.”

Chuuya watched as you reached into your purse, grabbing your phone and probably texting Higuchi. A small frown came upon your lips after a minute. Nuh-uh. He’d kill whatever made you frown.

“Eh? Why’re you frowning? We’re drinking, cheer up a bit.”

You looked back at him sheepishly, scooting a bit closer to him.

“Well, apparently Akutagawa got sick so now Gin is taking care of him and Higuchi is worrying so she doesn’t want to come and Tachihara suddenly got busy out of nowhere.”

Yes! Yes yes yes! Just him and you now.

“Sucks. But the two of us are here, right?”

Chuuya was currently praying to God that you’d stay.

“Guess so. Should we order stronger drinks, then? I don’t wanna be sober.”

He now believed in God.

And so you drank. Him with his signature red wine, and you with your preferred drink of choice. Chuuya obviously got drunk first, with the redhead showing signs of intoxication while he got clingy with you. You were equally drunk, and didn’t care that much. So he clung into your arm like a baby while you braided his hair poorly.

“God, your hair is so pretty, Chuuya.”

Ooohh. You called his hair pretty.

“Is the rest of me not pretty?”

He pouted, tugging at your sleeve and resting his head on your shoulder.

“Huh? I didn’t say that. You’re really pretty. Super pretty.”

Wow. He’s super pretty now.

“Well, I think you’re pretty too.”

His face flushed, suddenly realizing what he said as he buried his face in your shoulder, squeezing your arm for reassurance. Why did he say that? Why did he say that!? Stupid alcohol. It made him talk so dumb like this. He didn’t talk like this when the others were around to keep him in check. Shit. Maybe he should’ve have drunk so much.

“You do?”

You looked down at him, fingers momentarily stopping their crafting of his braid.

“Mhm.”

A small shy mumble was all he managed to utter.

“You’re so cute! This is why I like you, y’know.”

His head snapped up immediately. No way in fucking hell were you gonna leave him on a bombshell like that.

“You like me?”

For the second time today, Chuuya was praying to God that you liked him romantically.

“Yep.”

Not helpful.

“But…like a friend? Or uh- romantically.”

Well. He said it. Fuck him. No way you’d like him back.

“Uh.”

Some silence from you.

“I’m not saying.”

Oh yes, yes you fucking were gonna say.

“C’mon, tell me. Pleaseeee?”

Puppy eyed Chuuya. He used this to get out of trouble with Kouyou. Surely, it’d work on you?

“Fine. You’re a bitch, but jesus, I like you romantically.”

Chuuya Nakahara was sure he was at Heaven now. No way you—his angel—just confessed to him. Albeit drunk. But still a confession. One of his hands slowly crept onto yours, lacing your fingers together. He was in bliss, basking in your warmth and ignoring the other rowdy patrons of the bar. You just confessed to him. You like him back.

You like him back.

When he finally got back to his senses and opened his mouth to say that he liked—no, loved—you too, his ears picked up on a small snore from you. Did you seriously fall asleep? You had done it before during previous get togethers, but now? A small smile crept onto his face. Whatever. It didn’t matter. He’d tell you tomorrow.

He’d confess back, take you on a date and prove his worth to you.

Because maybe Chuuya Nakahara could learn how to love like you.

Just maybe.

taglist: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts

[flowercrowngods]

written for @steddieas-shegoes as a follow-up to this "can you read the letter for me" post-breakup scene (@artaxlivs wrote a wonderful version over here for you to read!) cw: drug mention, OD mention

Steve's body doesn't quite feel like his own as he walks to the playground with his breath lodged firmly in his throat and his heart trying out an old beat that used to be familiar. It's struggling, though, and Steve tries not to think about it. The cold breeze of the night hits his face, making him shiver for more reasons than one.

He hasn't been to the playground for years now. It used to be their spot when they couldn't sleep, kept awake by nightmares and memories and the worst of scenarios. They would come here and sit on the swings, steal glances at each other and talk into the night air, pretending like the other wouldn't hear, and hoping that he would.

He first took Eddie's hand here, swinging as they were, and Eddie had chuckled through his tears, and then his smile hadn't left all night – nor did his hand.

Maybe it's a bad idea, meeting him here. After everything. But some part of him thinks that it might be what they need. If Eddie really is doing as badly as he said, if he really does need a break of several weeks, a tiny part in Steve (the part that would always put himself last as long as it means that the other person gets the tiniest bit of comfort) wants Eddie to have this.

Their little bubble. Or the memory of it at least.

Steve is shaking as he sits down on one of the swings, one of his hands wrapped around the cold chain, the other balled to a fist in the pocket of his jacket. He feels oddly tethered even as the world begins to sway this way and that, even as the breath lodged in his throat solidifies into a lump and he feels as though he's about to cry.

Maybe that, too, comes with the muscle memory of swinging.

He spends an odd second envisioning himself from twenty years ago, laughing and squealing with his friends as they tried to do a looping, and then jump right up into the sky above, see who got farthest.

It brings a smile to his face and a nostalgia to his heart that he hasn't felt in a while.

He feels like he hasn't felt anything in a while. And that he won't until Eddie will apologise. Until he will explain.

The steady squeak–squeak–squeak of the swing is almost eerie in the quiet of the night, but to Steve it brings a certain calm; a safety that he knows is treacherous, but he feels it tingling in his arms, because–

Eddie is there. Slow steps approaching, the gravel crunching underneath his feet that makes Steve want to look up, but, tightening his grip around the chain, he refuses.

I’m sorry for being too much and not enough at the same time.

He knows the letter by heart now, and he wants to see. He wants to see how much space Eddie will be ready to take now, how much he'll let himself be this time. It's unfair, he knows; Eddie's not fine, he should take a step towards him. And he is. He's here. He has agreed to meet with Eddie and hear him out. He has agreed to allow himself a chance at mending his own heart.

Steve feels so torn inside, in more ways than one, that he feels paralysed and petrified and frozen. Part of him wants nothing more than to leap up and take Eddie in his arms, tell him that they'll figure it out, that they can do it, that they can make it work. That second chances are just a thing that happen in life. That it doesn't have to be one and done.

That's another reason he won't look up. There are so many reasons.

"Hey," Eddie's voice cuts through his racing thoughts, though it sounds so gentle and fragile that Steve wonders if it's not Eddie who's been cut.

The steps have stopped, the gravel no longer crunching, and Steve can see a worn pair of Chuck Taylor's in his vision. Not Eddie's usual armour. It throws him off, makes him want to cry, makes him shiver in a way he can't blame on the breeze anymore.

"Thank you," he continues, sounding even more gentle, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut, no longer wanting to hear that voice, not when it sounds like that. So bare. So raw. So vulnerable. "Can I sit with you?"

Steve swallows hard, and doesn't have to consider at all. He nods. Gravel crunches again, then twin chains squeak, the old wood creaking and groaning a little above them, but Steve knows it'll hold. It always does. While Steve is gently swaying, one foot anchored to the ground, Eddie remains impossibly still.

Maybe they're both about to break.

After a while, Eddie speaks up again with the words that Steve has been longing to hear for four years. "I'm sorry."

They're not nearly as satisfying as he always hoped. The world is still broken.

"Okay," he rasps, not really knowing what he's supposed to say. What Eddie wants from this. What he wants from this. If either of them still have the right to want things.

"I had this speech prepared," Eddie continues, still entirely still aside from the way his voice wavers, his laugh a bit breathless and bitter at himself. "But... I didn't... I didn't think you'd come, to be honest."

"Funny," Steve says before he can stop himself, cutting off the rest before it can leave his mouth and make it worse than it is. Coming from the one who left.

"I'm sorry," Eddie says again, and Steve is already tired of it.

So he says nothing, and his silence seems to mute Eddie.

"What does it mean?" he asks eventually, still not daring to look over at the man who used to hold his heart in his hands and then threw it down the quarry before leaving town without another word for four years. But he can feel Eddie's eyes on him. "That you're sorry, what– what does that mean."

"It means that I..." Eddie starts and trails off, considering his words in a way that makes Steve wish he wouldn't.

Just tell me. Take up space. Be enough. Be too much. Just tell me.

"It means that I wish I hadn't left, but that I know I had to in order to find out that living without you is not living at all. It means that I know that I broke your heart and your soul and your future, maybe, for this need of mine to just... find out. To run away. To be someone I could choose to be. And, God, it wasn't worth it. None of it. And still it happened, still I did it, still I know that I just... I had to do it. Being the person I was then, it... I just. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this. None of it. And if I could, I would turn back time and just tell you. Or sleep it off. Get help, talk with Wayne, anything. Anything that wouldn't lose me the... That wouldn't lose me you. And I'm sorry."

When Eddie finishes, his voice is hoarse, and Steve can't look away any longer. He opens his eyes and prepares to meet Eddie's beside him even in the dark of night, but he finds that Eddie is looking up instead, towards the sky where the moon is busy painting a cloud in silver light as it moves to cover it incrementally, and Steve takes a second to look back down at Eddie and watch him for a second.

His hands are clenched around the swing's chain, and they're shaking a little – so minutely that Steve's not sure if he's imagining it at all, but he feels like he knows Eddie enough to know that he's shaking, too. That they're in this together still. His thick leather boots are replaced with the worn, dark red Chuck Taylor's, and he's wearing a pair of jeans that aren't ripped at the knees. His black denim jacket is plain, no pins, no patches, no rips or tears or any sign of Eddie.

It leaves Steve feeling bereft, untethered once more; and isn't that unfair. It's not fair for Eddie to come here looking like this, looking so open and plain and vulnerable – how is Steve supposed to talk to him now. To talk at him, knowing his words will only meet armour. Armour that will make Eddie leave again.

How is he supposed to say anything when Eddie might not leave again. Or when he never came back in the first place?

"What happened to you?" he asks, the apology forgotten at this need to know. This need to protect, even after all these years. This need to be Steve and Eddie. If only just for the duration of a question.

Beide him, Eddie huffs and looks away from the now covered moon, meeting Steve's gaze with those big brown eyes that look so much bigger now. So much... sadder.

"I've spent all my life knowing who I didn't want to be. Knowing what to be against. Knowing what to hate. And then I– Then I met you. And I got to be someone for myself, you know? You let me be that. And I didn't see, I never... I never quite saw that, Stevie. Because that sad, scared, angry teenager part of me still wanted to hate and rebel and to leave and to be someone. And it didn't matter who, what kinda person, just... Just someone. So I left, and I– God, I lost myself. That self that you brought out. That self that wanted a life full of, like, love, y'know? Not hate. Not anger. Not... Not battle vest, leather armour, sticking it to the Man. But when I realised, it was too late."

"When did you?"

Eddie breathes out heavily. "Last year? Friend of mine OD-ed. Lou. Found her in the hotel, just..."

He breaks off, and Steve can see him blinking away tears just as he blinks away tears of his own.

"I called the band in this, like, full-on panic attack. Told them it was over. Told them I didn't want this anymore. They– They talked me down, because they're great guys. Helped me through it. All of it. Jeff told me to send the letter. Said, 'If you wanna find yourself again, Ed, you gotta start where you last had it, and you gotta start sending the letters.' Best fucking guy I know."

Eddie is smiling through the tears, telling all of this like it's not worth telling at all – like they're not both crying silent tears at it.

Like Steve's not understanding what he's saying. You made me into someone I liked being. and I did write to you, I just never sent them.

"You wrote me letters?"

Eddie nods. "All the fucking time. Wanted you there with me. Stayed sober for you until I... Until I couldn't anymore, because I'd left you, and I left this fucking swing set, and I... God, I'm so sorry, Steve." Eddie is really crying now, hands covering his face, and it's not really a decision at all when Steve gets up to stand between his legs, wrapping his arms around Eddie's shoulders and letting him cry into his chest.

Eddie wraps around him almost instantly, and Steve holds him, running his hands through his hair, shushing him gently, just allowing Eddie to cry for as long as he needs.

And I got to be someone for myself, you know? You let me be that.

You let me be that.

"I'm sorry," Eddie repeats, over and over, and Steve finds himself saying, "It's okay, Eddie, it's okay. I forgive you."

They stay like that for a while. Until Eddie calms down enough to breathe normally again, and even longer still before Steve slowly, gently pulls away – ready to move back in and hold him some more. Even though he shouldn't. Maybe.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," he says at last. "And I'm glad you're taking a break. Glad you sent that letter, too."

"Mm-hmm, me too."

Silence settles between them once more as Steve finds his way back to his swing; and that's when he starts thinking again.

"When you left, I was devastated. And I couldn't even tell anyone, not even Robin. It's like... It's like when you left, you took away that part of me, y'know? I didn't know how to talk about you. The words were gone, or something. And then you... You wrote your songs. And it was double unfair, because not only you get to leave, you also got to talk about it? To, like, thousands of people? I never... I still– it's.... It's like I still don't know how to talk about it. About you. Or to you. There are things I wanna say, but... You said them all, I guess. You got to say them."

"Steve," Eddie breathes, and he sounds just as devastated as Steve feels. "I never meant to– I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"No?"

"No! No, you... No."

Their eyes meet again, and Steve swallows hard again. "Tell me."

"What?"

"What you were gonna say. What you want to say."

Eddie breathes deeply and lets it all out in one long breath. "You didn't deserve that," he says at last. "You deserve someone who treats you right. Someone who lets you be who you want to be, too, and who will bring you flowers, and who will buy you an Winnebago and get you everything you could ever wish for. You deserve someone who's not broken, someone who'll do anything for you because they realise that you're everything they could ever dream of and more."

Steve sighs and feels frustrated again, because Eddie still doesn't get it, Eddie still puts him on that pedestal and made him out of reach for himself to the point where he had to leave because Steve was already gone for him.

"Eddie," he says, and his heart breaks a little when the other man flinches a little at his sharp tone. "I don't ask for that, I would never ask for that, God. I just... I just want a simple, sometimes complicated, sometimes dramatic but ultimately worth it life. I want a– a boyfriend who will say weird shit sometimes because he's a fucking nerd, and who will discover things about himself when he's with me, and go to bed with that smile that tells me he's safe with me. And happy. I don't want anyone throwing away anything, I don't need anyone giving me everything, I just..." I just want you.

But the words don't quite make it past his lips, too much history forcing them shut. It's been four years.

"I don't want to make you into someone. I don't want the weight of that, the responsibility that one wrong look could make someone's entire life fall in on itself. I just..." I just want you.

And that's when he realises what he's always sort of known. That Eddie doesn't even need to ask for a second chance for Steve to hand it to him on a silver platter.

He stands again and comes between Eddie's legs again.

"I forgive you. But I want to talk. About all of this. Not just tonight, but every night. I want to know how I can help you, I want to start over, I want it to be right this time. I don't want you to ever run away again. I want you to talk to me, Eddie. And to take me with you next time you need to run. Because you don't get to run from me, okay? You don't– You don't get to do that, Eddie Munson."

Eddie looks up at him, the moonlight catching on the tears in his eyes, making them look even bigger, and Steve wishes he wouldn't look so small.

"You– But... But I'm so... broken." His hands flail a little, an aborted motion that shows nothing of his usual energy.

Steve's hands find his way to Eddie's cheeks if only to stop him from running away again.

"And I'm not gonna fix you. But I can hold you through it, and stay right where you need me to. That's what people do when–" He cuts himself off before he can say it.

But Eddie understands anyway if the way his eyes widen even more, welling up against the moonlight, is any indication at all.

"Still?"

Steve nods, his thumb stroking Eddie's cheek tenderly, wiping away the fresh tears. "Still. All you had to do was come back."

Eddie falls forward, then, and buries his face in Steve's stomach. It's not running away. It's quite the opposite, actually, and Steve holds him as long as he can.

The night is filled with many more tears as four years of anger and sadness and lostness finally find words to express them.

It's dawn when he says goodbye to Eddie at Wayne's new trailer, waving at the man drinking his coffee on the porch. Eddie holds Steve in a tight embrace for a whole minute before either of them are ready to let go, and only with the promise of Same place, same time tonight.

It's not a new beginning yet, but it's the closure they both need before the new beginning will happen in due time.

[cuubism]

in an attempt to be more offline (absolute failure so far) i wrote the next installment of Nightingales by hand in an actual notebook. imagine that. behold, fanfic that's touched grass... or something.

Dream has taken to leaving random books on Hob's nightstand. This is no abnormal occurrence, except that these aren't from Dream's infinite collection of books he's "currently reading," but rather seem to be left there for Hob.

Hob will finish a book, and within the hour it will disappear back to the Library, miraculously replaced by another. At first this suits Hob well enough. The cafe is only getting busier, and while Hob does love trawling through the Library's endless stacks in search of a new read, he'd rather spend his free time with Dream. Perhaps Dream is only trying to facilitate that through this method, or trying to make Hob happy by applying his knowledge in the area where it's vastly broader.

But then it starts to get weirder. Whereas before, Dream's selected books had been exactly to Hob's tastes--as they usually are, it is his specialty, after all--slowly they start to diverge.

First it's an epic tome about interstellar travel. Post-apocalypse, final earth survivors traveling light years to an untamed planet, and so on. Hob likes sci-fi well enough, but this particular one is getting a little too 2001: A Space Odyssey for his tastes, a little too abstract and philosophical. Perhaps one that Dream likes that he wanted to share?

Then comes the horror novel. And what horror. A man born and raised in underground rooms, who did not realize he was bereft of the sky until an attempted rescue caved in his tunnels and nearly suffocated him. Dragged from the soil, gasping, he had to cover his head lest he go blind.

'David had read of plants that grew upwards. Instead of the deep roots he'd touched all his life, they had stems, and leaves, and these went up, into another world. Birthed into cold fear, David thought.

He was one of those plants. He stretched long fingers up through the soil, gasping for breath. Warm earth parted and air greeted him, air chill and dry as he'd never tasted it. A searing pain in his unused eyes. He did not even have a word for the brutal shine that fell upon his face.

(Light, he would later think. Sunlight.)

No matter how hard he pressed his hands to his eyes it was not blocked out. He whimpered, and the same hands that had pulled him from the collapsed earth, hands painful in their kindness, laid a blanket over him, covering his head in warm darkness again. No, not a blanket. A jacket?

Another head peeked under the collar of the jacket, letting in a sliver of brightness before it was shut out again. Oh. His rescuer. His arms were bare; it was his jacket that David was wearing over his head.

"Hey," said his rescuer. His voice was warm as the soil. "You alright?"'

Perhaps it isn't horror, Hob thinks, only afterwards.

Then there's a book of love poems, though they're strange and hyper-modern, and Hob can't shake the odd sense that he shouldn't be reading them, that Dream has, somehow, snatched them out of a time yet to be.

He finally confronts Dream when he's left a relatively straightforward, if bland, romance of the type he hadn't thought either of them particularly went for. (Even Dream wouldn't be able to pull sex inspiration from it as he likes to do with his bodice rippers, the book isn't nearly spicy enough for his tastes.)

He marches back into the bedroom one morning, after several minutes of making coffee and mulling, and holds the book up in front of Dream's face. "Dream. What."

Dream looks up from where he's reclining in Hob's bed, several books scattered around him. "Did you not like it?"

"Did you?"

Dream hums, looking down again at his own book. "It has merits."

"Why, though. You keep giving me these books. Why?"

Dream continues studiously reading his book, though he isn't turning pages. So it isn't teasing, then. Nor even some lighthearted attempt to get Hob to expand his reading horizons. It's something deeper.

"Dream," Hob says, sitting on the side of the bed by his thigh. "Come on. Talk to me. What is it?"

"Page one-fifty-two," says Dream in a quiet voice, and it takes a second for Hob to realize he means the book Hob is still holding.

Hob hasn't managed to get that far in the book. He flips through it, anxiety building, more anxiety than he thinks a light, beachy romance is ever meant to produce.

He turns to the page, about three-quarters of the way through the book.

'Lacy had calculated it once. Across her entire career, she had written two million, five hundred twenty-two thousand, nine hundred and eighty-three words.'

Right. Hob remembers from the few chapters he'd managed to read that the protagonist is a writer.

'2.5 million words about romance. Who could possibly have so much to say on the topic? 2.5 million words of circling and circling the point. Not letting herself see it well enough to skewer it.

All those words came only to this: she wanted to marry him, and she didn't know what to do.'

Hob drops the book.

It tumbles to the floor in a flutter of bending pages, but he pays it no mind. He takes Dream's hands in his own, letting Dream's book fall closed on his knees. Dream looks up at him hesitantly, from under his eyelashes. You silly thing, Hob thinks, with heart-clenching fondness. I love you so.

All of it had been a message, in Dream's own oblique way. Borrowed metaphors from the vast catalog of his brain. That's how he connects: through the books that Hob knows are -- in some strange way -- a part of him.

He leans down to kiss Dream's knuckles, like he's bowing his head before a shrine. Then he looks up. Dream is watching him, expression somewhere between wary and awed.

"You don't have to know what to do about anything else," Hob says, "so long as you marry me."

Dream smiles tentatively, and tips his forehead against Hob's. He can be so strange and mysterious at times, but more often than not, when they're alone in their bedroom, he's like this: soft, wanting, just on the edge of shy, and that's the version of Dream Hob most wants to bundle up and away from the world. Even if he knows it's impossible, and not right besides; Dream can't just live in his bedroom, he has to live in his stories, and stories are out in the world. Hob can't help but want it anyway.

"I would like that," Dream says, smile soft. Hob kisses his cheek, body full of warm light.

He pulls Dream into a proper hug, tucking his face into his shoulder. He feels Dream's smile against his neck. The warm weight of him in his arms, in his bed.

So improbable to have snagged a thing such as Dream from the expanse of his existence, and cuddled him up in the cozy confines of his simple cafe. But as Dream had said. The door exists because Hob uses it. He met Dream because he went to his shop that day. He went to his shop that day because he was to meet Dream. Each improbability has a circular path.

Christ. He's thinking like that sci-fi novel Dream had given him.

Hob doesn't know what a marriage with a creature like Dream -- he still doesn't know what that is, exactly -- is meant to be like. It's uncharted space.

But he knows that he wants it. Wants Dream.

He holds his darling close and kisses the corner of his mouth. Dream's lips are sweet with happy tears.

"You will marry me, then?" he murmurs, more pleased repetition of the thought than a question.

Hob gets the book of infamous page one-fifty-two off the floor. Turns to page one-fifty-three. Finds the word he needs, swipes Dream's pen from the nightstand, circles it. Hands the book to him, open.

Dream touches the circled word with a reverent fingertip, and smiles.