Viv | 29 | ♊️ | tattoo artist Fanart of all kind. (some 🔞) OP • jjk • kny • aot • my OCs • DOL I do take commissions but only if I have the time. I only post my own art/fanfics.
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they’re both terrible at feelings but great at loving each other
i spent so much time on this i couldn’t help but come up with some headcanons so i thought id share them too
Giyu makes Sanemi tea when he’s worked up. Sanemi pretends he doesn’t care but drinks it every time.
Giyu is the only person Sanemi lets see him be gentle — and Sanemi is the only person who makes Giyu laugh out loud.
Sanemi calls Giyu stupid. Giyu calls Sanemi by his full name when he’s being reckless. Both are devastating.
Giyu is the quiet type, but when Sanemi gets too close, his ears turn bright red every single time.
Sanemi pretends he hates PDA but will absolutely drag Giyu into hugs when no one’s looking. If someone sees them, he just says “mind your damn business” and hugs him harder.
Giyu is gentle with everyone… except Sanemi, who he pulls in by the collar when he wants a kiss.
Everyone in the Corps knows they’re together, but neither of them ever officially said it. They just… started sharing beds and no one was brave enough to question it.
Sanemi flirts aggressively and badly. Giyu just blinks at him, and somehow that’s more effective.
Giyu is weirdly touch-starved, so when Sanemi casually drapes an arm over him, he just quietly melts and leans in more.
They sleep tangled together like a pile of feral cats, but if anyone asks, Sanemi says it’s just for “tactical warmth.”
Sanemi usually wakes up first and just lies there watching Giyu sleep like he’s guarding a sacred artifact.
Sometimes he wakes up too tired to think and just grabs the first shirt he sees — which is almost always Giyu’s.
Giyu once took his old stuffed teddy and carefully cut it open, then stitched it back together so the seams and scars lined up with Sanemi’s (a little creepy if you ask me). Every careful thread is placed where Sanemi was hurt — like he’s quietly, gently mapping all the places the world broke him. He never tells Sanemi. He keeps the bear tucked away like a secret and cuddles it at night when Sanemi is on mission.
Sanemi finds it anyway. He doesn’t say anything either. He just holds it sometimes when Giyu isn’t looking, thumbs brushing over the stitches, smiling in that soft, private way he only ever allows himself when it’s about Giyu. Because even if Giyu won’t say it out loud, Sanemi knows exactly what it means: You are worth mending.
Sanemi Shinazugawa has never believed he was built for love.
He’s too loud, too angry, too sharp around the edges — someone who bites before barking. Even his feelings seem dangerous to him, since every time he let himself love, they would either leave or get taken away.
So when Giyu Tomioka stays —actually stays—, when he looks at Sanemi with those steady, gentle eyes, Sanemi can’t help but dread the moment he’ll inevitably push him too far.
He’s terrified of it.
Giyu sees it in the way Sanemi flinches after he snaps. In the way he pulls back after touching him, like he’s afraid affection is something he doesn’t even deserve.
And every time, Giyu reaches out again — not because he’s patient, but because he loves him.
Loves him in the quiet mornings.
Loves him when he’s furious.
Loves him especially when Sanemi can’t bring himself to.
And even if Sanemi won’t love himself yet… Giyu is more than willing to do it for him.
FIRST KISS//
Sanemi’s voice comes out rough.
“Why do you keep coming back’?” he asks, not looking at Giyu. “You know what I’m like.”
Giyu steps closer.
“I know,” he says softly. “That’s why.”
Sanemi laughs under his breath — broken, almost disbelieving.
“You’re gonna get tired of me.”
“I won’t,” Giyu says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And even if you don’t believe that… I do.”
Sanemi finally looks at him.
“You’re not scared of me?”
Giyu lifts a hand, hesitating only for a second before gently cupping Sanemi’s cheek.
“I’m scared for you,” he admits. “Because you don’t think you deserve this.”
Sanemi’s breath stutters.
“Giyu…”
“I’m here,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Something in Sanemi breaks open. He leans in before he can stop himself — slow, unsure, giving Giyu every chance to pull away.
Giyu doesn’t.
And for the first time, Sanemi doesn’t feel like something unlovable.
there i basically did all the work, im not a writer… someone else write the fanfic now
you’re testing his patience and he shuts you up with his cursed speech ꉂꉂ◟(˃᷄ꇴ˂᷅๑)༡ ((i know the way his technique works here isn’t canon but just let me have this))
Be Quiet
You’ve been talking for five straight minutes.
Toge sits across from you on the dorm couch, chin propped on his hand, eyes half-lidded and this close to snapping. He types out [“SHUT UP”] on his phone and tries (in vain) to get you to look at the screen. “Mustard leaf,” he mutters flatly, which for him is already a warning.
You just keep going.
He exhales through his nose, glances up at you, then pointedly looks away—like ignoring you might physically shut you up. Of course it doesn’t. His knee starts bouncing. He taps his fingers against his thigh. He looks annoyed.
Finally he locks his phone, leans forward, and gives you a sharp look. There’s something dangerous flickering behind it—irritation, sure, but also that familiar spark you always seem to poke at on purpose. “Bonito flakes,” he says, voice low.
You still don’t stop your rambling.
Toge’s lips press into a thin line. Cursed energy hums quietly in his throat and before he can even think:
“…Be quiet.”
The words hang heavy in the air—sudden and absolute.
A second passes. Then he freezes, eyes widening just a fraction, like ‘oh. I actually did that’. He looks away immediately, ears faintly pink, pretending he’s way more focused on the wall than on you. “…Salmon,” he adds, smugness creeping back in despite himself.
You open your mouth and try to continue but nothing comes out. All you can do is open and close it frantically. At first you glare at him a little panicked, then annoyed. You point at him accusatory over the coffee table between you.
Toge watches you with lazy amusement, one eyebrow lifting as he leans back into the couch. His fingers are still drumming against his knee—slow, deliberate taps that now only serve to frustrate you further. "Tuna mayo," he says casually, like it’s a fact and not a taunt.
He pulls out his phone again—not to type anything helpful (obviously)—but to scroll through his insta feed with exaggerated interest. Every so often though… He sneaks glances at you from the corner of his eye. He looks somewhat pleased with himself.
His nonchalant act is starting to get on your nerves. Frustration wins over and you get up to slam your hands down on the coffee table with a loud ‘thump’.
That gets his attention. Toge's head jerks up at the slam, his eyes widening for a split second—before narrowing into something between annoyance and dark amusement. The coffee table rattles from the force of your hands. You point at your mouth intently than at him again, throwing a silent fit of rage on mute.
"Mustard leaf," he mutters, but there’s no real bite to it this time. He watches you seethe with an almost fascinated tilt of his head.
Then he does something even more infuriating: he pulls out a piece of paper and writes in big, obnoxious letters—["CANT TALK? WEIRD."] —and holds it up like it’s some grand revelation.
Your hands clench into fists, trembling with barely contained anger at your sides. If you would have been able to talk you would have hurled all kinds of colorful insults at him.
A beat passes. His smirk grows when you don’t back down, so he scribbles again: ["WANNA FIGHT ABOUT IT?"] with an arrow pointing toward himself like saying ‘go ahead.’
You snatch the paper from him fuming and wrestle the pen from his fingers. In angry big letters you scribble on the other side: [“ILL KICK YOUR ASS IF YOU DONT CUT IT OUT!”] You throw the pen back at him, missing by a lot which makes you even more angry.
Toge doesn’t even bother dodging the pen and just watches it fly past him. He laughs once, loud and surprised, as the pen clatters to the floor somewhere by the armchair. He watches you, expression bright with something between playful challenge and smug disbelief at your childish outburst.
You just threatened him. In writing. You. Tiny, adorable you. It's absolutely hilarious.
"Salmon," he mutters, shaking his head. His laugh turns more quiet—more mocking, but no less amused. He reaches for his phone. [“Like you could even touch me."] he types on his phone after you had so rudely discarded his pen.
Your eyes narrow slightly at the challenge and you give him a sinister smile that says ‘Try me, bitch’. Then you lunge forward grabbing his arm to shake him. Not being able to talk kinda limited you to getting physical with him.
Toge's smirk drops the second you grab his arm—because, okay, he didn't expect that. His eyes widen for a split second before narrowing. "...mustard leaf," he mutters low in his throat, like a warning while you're still shaking him.
His free hand snaps up to grip your wrist—not hard enough to hurt, but firm. "Bonito flakes." The words come out sharp between clenched teeth as he leans forward slightly—('you really wanna do this?').
You pout when he grabs your wrist but don’t pull back. If anything you close in even more aggressively and try to grab his phone with your other hand to maybe have some kind of leverage. But he snatches it away too fast and your fingers curl around nothing. You let out an annoyed huff since you still had no other way of communicating.
He laughs again when you lunge for his phone with no success. Like you're just some angry little animal to him. He casually tosses the phone on the couch out of reach for you where it lands with a soft 'thud.'
You huff again, annoyed you can't get to his phone, annoyed at the stupid sound of his laugh, annoyed at his smugness, just…annoyed all around. You glare daggers at him. It just makes him smile wider. "…Tuna mayo." He smirks, watching you.
His stupid smile finally makes you snap. You rip your hands away and grab onto his collar. Toge's smirk freezes for half a second—because fuck, you just yanked him by the collar. That’s… unexpected. He blinks at you, pupils slightly dilated in surprise.
You lean in trying your best to look threatening which of course doesn’t work. You shake him again, frustrated that you couldn’t insult him like you usually would and had to resort to doing this instead.
"Fish flakes," he mutters under his breath again, but this time it sounds more like a choked-off noise than anything else. His hands hover awkwardly near your wrists—not pushing you away yet (he totally could), not pulling closer either (absolutely not).
A beat passes where he just stares down at your grip on his shirt. "...Salmon." The word comes out lower than intended—less mocking and weirdly strained instead.
You see the shift in him and tilt your head slightly, then stop shaking him. But you don’t let go of his collar yet. Your eyes wander over his face scanning his expression. They narrow a little. Is he… flustered?
Toge's jaw tenses the second he realizes you're studying him. His eyes dart away, but it’s too late—you already saw the flicker of something in his expression that wasn’t just annoyance. "…Bonito flakes," he mutters, voice rougher than before. It sounds more like a curse at himself than anything directed at you.
His hands finally move—one to grip your wrist, and the other to swat weakly at your shoulder as if physically shooing away this entire situation—like ‘let go.’ But there's no real force behind it. Just… awkwardness? Maybe panic? Who can really tell with him?
You see that what you were doing was finally getting to him and a sinister smirk appears on your face. You raise an eyebrow as if to say ‘giving up already?’. Then push even closer, pointing at your throat. The message was clear: ‘Give my voice back and I might stop.’
Toge's entire body goes rigid the second you push even closer. His fingers twitch against your wrist—like he can't decide if he wants to shove you off or pull you in. "Fish flakes," he hisses. His ears are burning now, dark pink all the way up.
He glares at your pointing finger like it personally offended him before exhaling sharply through his nose. A beat passes where he’s visibly at war with himself… then finally mutters:
"Talk."
The curse lifts instantly. And then immediately after? He leans back and flicks your forehead hard enough for it to sting. Like an asshole who regrets nothing except maybe that smirk of yours making him fold so fast.
((if there’s any demand for a spicy version of him using his cursed technique on you PLEASE let me know cause i’m all about that)) ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა
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why can’t I get Choso taking care of toddler Yuji in a damn tiger onesie out of my head?? it’s so specific wtf
someone send help…
You knock, and the door opens almost immediately—like someone’s been waiting right behind it.
Choso stands there in an oversized hoodie, hair slightly damp like he just rushed out of the shower and forgot time exists. There’s a backpack half-zipped on the floor behind him, a shoelace trailing like a trap, and the faint smell of instant noodles in the air.
Before he can even say hi, something orange-and-black streaks into view.
A toddler in a tiger costume—hood up, ears wobbling, tail bouncing—charges straight at you with all the confidence of a tiny creature who believes the world was built solely to entertain him.
“RAWR!!”
Yuji grabs your leg with his little “paws” and looks up like you’re the best thing he’s seen all day. Choso’s face does that thing where he tries to look calm and in control… and fails, just a little. He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Hey,” he says, voice low—careful. “Sorry. He heard your footsteps and decided you’re… part of tiger patrol now.”
Yuji bounces. “Patro’! Rawr!”
Choso crouches, fixing the tiger hood like it’s important that it stays up so Yuji can pretend to be a tiger properly. His expression softens instantly.
“Okay, little tiger. Gentle paws, you hear me?” Then he looks back at you, a bit flustered but sincere. “If you’re still okay with helping… I’ve got school stuff in an hour and he’s in a mood.”
Yuji suddenly thrusts a slightly squished and very wet cracker toward you like an offering. Choso pauses, then his mouth twitches—almost a smile.
“He’s sharing,” he says quietly. “He just learned what that is.”
You pick up the toddler. Yuji squeaks in delight as you lift him, his tiny tiger paws flailing before latching onto your shoulders. His hood slips halfway over one eye, but he doesn’t seem to care—too busy beaming up at you like you just hung the moon.
“‘Ello!” he chants, kicking his little legs for emphasis. Then—without warning—he shoves his damp cracker right against your mouth. “Eat! Eat!”
Choso makes a strangled noise from behind him and lunges forward (but not fast enough).
“Yuji.” He grabs the back of the toddler’s onesie with one hand while wiping mushy cracker off your chin with a tissue from who-knows-where. His ears are pink again; this is clearly not how polite visitors are treated in their household.
“I swear,” Choso mutters under his breath as Yuji giggles wildly into it all, “one time I said ‘food is for sharing’… one time and now every snack goes straight to my friends.”
He shoots you an apologetic look that says: Please don't judge me based on this gremlin's behavior. But there's no real annoyance
Here’s Eugene Mercer — pastel punk ghost hunter, socially chaotic, and obsessed with the paranormal 🩵👻
Name: Eugene Mercer
Age: 25
Gender / pronouns: Male; He/Him
Species: Human (unfortunately… he’d much rather be a ghost.)
Occupation / role:
He would say Ghost Hunter but be works as a cashier at a Walmart during the day…
One-sentence summary:
A reckless, pastel punk, ghost hunter who believes the dead are more interesting than the living.
Three defining traits:
1. Outwardly a confident extrovert who means well, but is unconsciously socially awkward. (And unconsciously funny… he doesn’t mind the teasing though)
2. A bit impatient… (He tries not to be too pushy but fails most of the time)
3. He thinks about ghosts and ghost hunting more than anything else and is lost in his own thoughts a lot.
One major flaw:
Constantly crosses boundaries.
One major strength:
Confidence in himself and others.
What do they want more than anything?
Prove that ghosts exist.
What are they afraid of?
Being forgotten and not turning into a ghost after passing away. (He always reminds you that he defiantly wants to go with “unfinished business”)
2. Personality & Behavior
How do they act around strangers?
Way too open, friendly, and trusting. He basically tries to bring up ghosts as much as possible without being rude or dismissive.
How do they act around people they like?
He becomes a little more clingy and protective, he will feel more comfortable talking about his obsession with ghost hunting and will ask you constantly to explore abandoned buildings and cemeteries at night with him. He would probably text you around 7 times a week (sometimes 8 because he forgot you already said no) asking you to go ghost hunting. He will then show up trying go look through your peephole (as he has no regard for privacy) probably yelling something like “Get in looser, we’re going ghost hunting!”, sounding way too excited to be turned away.
How do they act when they’re scared?
Eugene doesn’t get scared easily since he’s used to being in creepy places by himself. His fear is not death. Not spirits.
It’s being erased, his messages going unread, his social media posts getting no likes, people not remembering his name, spirits who don’t know who they were. That’s why he overshares, why he drags people into ghost hunts, why he talks too much, why he tattoos his body with symbols meant to mean something to him. Ghosts are remembered. He’s afraid he won’t be.
How do they act when they’re angry?
Since he doesn’t really have a bad temper he rarely gets aggressive. When he does though it’s scary… He won’t raise his voice or scowl. He’ll become dangerously sweet and smiles this crazy, dangerous smile while his left eye twitches. That means you should run because Eugene is not afraid off get into a physical fight or altercation with anyone (or anything for that matter) when it’s about protecting what’s important to him.
He is:
☐ Impulsive
☐ Loud
☐ Emotional
☐ Honest
Do they respect rules?
Not really. He won’t if they don’t make any sense to him.
Why or why not?
He has a strong moral compass and if a rule seems stupid to him he will defy it. He won’t outright disrespect peoples wishes but he has trouble reading others and crosses boundaries by accident or because he doesn’t think.
What social mistake do they make the most?
Not respecting other’s personal space. He’s a very touchy and cuddly person and since he doesn’t mind being touched he just assumes it’s like that for everyone. On top he has no regard for peoples privacy since he grew up always having to share his room.
This will result in him standing too close to strangers, sitting down next to people on an almost empty bus… and he will probably use that urinal right next to you while trying to spark up a conversation…
3. Inner World
What does this character believe about the world?
Eugene sees the world as a playground. He’s not a very serious person and a defiant thrill seeker. He believes as long as he’s good, the universe will look out for him. (It doesn’t.)
What do they believe about themselves?
He’s very confident in his own looks and abilities, even though his life is always a little bit out of control. He knows he has very beautiful eyes that captivate most people and takes full advantage of that.
What lie do they tell themselves?
“I don’t need anyone!”
He tells himself spirits understand him better than the living, the dead are more honest, ghosts won’t judge his awkwardness, ghosts won’t abandon him. So it feels safer to obsess over them. But it’s a lie. Because what he’s really doing is avoiding the risk of real connection. Ghosts can’t reject him. People can. But he pretends it’s all just about the paranormal.
What truth are they avoiding?
He wants to be chosen.
Chosen by friends, someone who stays or as someone worth remembering. So he fills this void with spirits, symbols, noise, and glowing EMF screens, all to drown out the quiet thought: “What if I don’t have anyone left to haunt when I’m gone?”
What would emotionally break them?
Being calmly, deliberately left behind.
Not a fight. Not betrayal. Not drama. Just when people stop replying, plans quietly get canceled, he’s being replaced. Because that confirms every fear he’s running from: he’s annoying, he crosses lines, he isn’t worth the effort, that people only tolerate him, they don’t choose him.
He can handle ghosts passing on to the next realm. They’re already dead. But a living person deciding he’s not worthy? That would shatter him.
Why this hurts him so deeply?
Eugene is loud, impulsive, obsessed, messy — not because he’s arrogant, but because he’s trying to be unforgettable. So when someone does block him out… it feels like dying while still alive. He wouldn’t cry dramatically. He would just get quieter, stop inviting people, stop dragging them into his crazy world.
And that would be the real tragedy — the ghost hunter becoming the ghost.
What secretly makes them happy?
Discovering something no one else noticed.
Not fame. Not validation. That electric moment when, his EMF reader spikes, the air changes, something is there even though it shouldn’t be there, and he’s the first one to see it! That’s his happiness.
Eugene lives in a fantasy world. He’s curious. He’s impulsive. He’s obsessed.
So what he really loves is: being right about something weird, finding proof that the world is stranger than people think, dragging others into his excitement. The paranormal gives his life texture, mystery, color. His joy is dusty abandoned places, weird EMP recordings, spirit boxes, chalk circles, EMF beeps and people going “no way…” while he grins like an idiot. That’s why he won’t shut up about it. Not because he’s lonely. Because he’s in love with the idea that the world is haunted.
4. Backstory
Where did they grow up?
Savannah, Georgia
What was their childhood like?
In a place like Savannah ghost tales are everywhere — old cemeteries draped in Spanish moss, Civil War history, haunted inns, and cloaked Southern Gothic vibes make the supernatural part of daily life. Tourist crowds in the fall and ghost-hunting culture meant Eugene grew up hearing ghost stories before politicians’ speeches. Just one of the kids hauling around cheap EMF meters and spooky stories like baseball cards.
Even in slack seasons when tourists aren’t around, the haunted lore shapes daily life — kids dare each other near old graveyards, roadside memories are filled with weird sightings, and every abandoned building has a story. This is where his fascination bloomed while most of his friends grew out of the ghost hunting craze.
In that environment, he picked up odd jobs like selling flashlights to tourists near old cemeteries, making homemade “ghost hunting kits” and leading unofficial haunt walks for pocket money …all fueling his obsession and giving him that extroverted-salesman impulse he has now.
Instead of being stuck in a bleak place with nothing, Eugene’s world is rich with the things he loves, even if his family was poor growing up there. This is why he never gave up on ghost hunting, talks about wandering graveyards like they’re theme parks and treats old cemeteries like home turf.
Did they feel loved?
Eugenes family doesn’t have much, but what they lack in money they definitely make up for in unconditional love. He couldn’t afford toys, trips, or stability—but he could always afford *mystery*. That’s why he’s not jaded. That’s why he still believes. He grew up in a place where wonder was free.
His parents and six younger sisters are his pride and joy and his strong family bond is where his intense protective instinct stem from. (Being the older brother to six beautiful girls didn’t help with those instincts…)
What was the first big loss or disappointment they experienced?
When the family dog, Billie, died who he relied on for emotional support. Eugene was 15 and had grown up with that dog. Always trying to be strong in front of his sisters that dog was the only being he would become soft for. When he dies Eugene starts obsessing about the afterlife even more since he desperately wants to believe Billie is still out there somewhere. To this day he’s still looking for Billies lost soul.
Why do they do what they do now?
The strong need for the world to feel alive and interesting.
Not in a sad way— in a restless, curious, easily-bored extrovert way. Eugene’s brain is always buzzing. He needs, stimulation, mystery, something to chase. Most of everyday life feels flat to him. School, jobs, routines, small talk—it’s all… dead. Ghost hunting somehow fixes that. It gives him wonder.
It lets him believe there’s more than just bills and awkward conversations, something hidden under the surface, like he’s part of something strange and exciting. He isn’t chasing the dead because he’s broken. He’s chasing them because to him they make the world feel magical instead of boring.
5. Visual Design Logic
What does their fashion say about them?
Eugene dresses for comfort more than style. He prefers edgy and oversized clothes in either pastel colours or washed out black.
When he’s out ghost hunting he opts for practical, dark clothes with lots of pockets to store his equipment.
Do they care how they look? Why?
He doesn’t care about his looks much, but only because he knows he’s fairly good looking. If he wasn’t, he’d probably be a little obsessed with that too…
He knows he’s not ugly and will take full advantage of that if possible.
What do they use their body to express?
He is very much into body mods. His face is almost cluttered with lots of piercings and so is his body. He dyes his hair a blueish shade of green with some white highlights surrounding is face.
The tattoo on his left pectoral muscle is a planchette from an Ouija board saying “Good Boy” instead of “Goodbye”. (He enjoys that nickname a little too much…)
His hand tattoo spells “yes” and “no” over his hands with one letter on each finger. On either pinky there’s an eye tattooed and on his left index finger another smaller planchette.
Which part of their design is most important visually?
His whole vibe and aesthetic attract attention most of the time since he dresses and behaves unconventionally. But his eyes are his most stunning feature. They’re very a very soft, warm brown and his eye lashes are unnaturally long and thick. Just like his hair but his lashes are the most notable.
6. Style & Aesthetic
Three aesthetic keywords:
☐ Softboy
☐ Pastel punk
☐ Ghostcore
What kind of vibe should people feel when they see them?
☐ Slight unease
☐ Curiosity
☐ Unhinged chaos
What would their room look like?
Extremely cozy with many fairy lights, plants, candles and all kinds of ghost hunter equipment cluttering the small space. Not exactly tidy or organised. He claims only stupid people stay organised and a true genius controls the chaos.
What objects would always be around them?
Definitely his EMF reader. He bought that thing from his very first pay check and hasn’t put it down since. Sometimes he even falls asleep still cradling it hoping for it to spike.
7. Relationships (I might still edit this part, since there will be more characters coming soon)
How do most people see them?
As a little annoying...
How do they want to be seen?
As a good ghost hunter and someone worth remembering.
How are they actually seen by someone who knows them well?
His sisters would say “he’s crazy but he’s the best big brother in the world”. His few close friends would probably see him as a little annoying too… but also as honest and loyal.
Who is the most important person in their life?
His younger sisters.
Who do they push away without meaning to?
People who he wants to protect from his lifestyle. (If he sees someone getting scared during a ghost hunt he’d probably tell them to go home even if it breaks his heart.)
they’re both terrible at feelings but great at loving each other
i spent so much time on this i couldn’t help but come up with some headcanons so i thought id share them too
Giyu makes Sanemi tea when he’s worked up. Sanemi pretends he doesn’t care but drinks it every time.
Giyu is the only person Sanemi lets see him be gentle — and Sanemi is the only person who makes Giyu laugh out loud.
Sanemi calls Giyu stupid. Giyu calls Sanemi by his full name when he’s being reckless. Both are devastating.
Giyu is the quiet type, but when Sanemi gets too close, his ears turn bright red every single time.
Sanemi pretends he hates PDA but will absolutely drag Giyu into hugs when no one’s looking. If someone sees them, he just says “mind your damn business” and hugs him harder.
Giyu is gentle with everyone… except Sanemi, who he pulls in by the collar when he wants a kiss.
Everyone in the Corps knows they’re together, but neither of them ever officially said it. They just… started sharing beds and no one was brave enough to question it.
Sanemi flirts aggressively and badly. Giyu just blinks at him, and somehow that’s more effective.
Giyu is weirdly touch-starved, so when Sanemi casually drapes an arm over him, he just quietly melts and leans in more.
They sleep tangled together like a pile of feral cats, but if anyone asks, Sanemi says it’s just for “tactical warmth.”
Sanemi usually wakes up first and just lies there watching Giyu sleep like he’s guarding a sacred artifact.
Sometimes he wakes up too tired to think and just grabs the first shirt he sees — which is almost always Giyu’s.
Giyu once took his old stuffed teddy and carefully cut it open, then stitched it back together so the seams and scars lined up with Sanemi’s (a little creepy if you ask me). Every careful thread is placed where Sanemi was hurt — like he’s quietly, gently mapping all the places the world broke him. He never tells Sanemi. He keeps the bear tucked away like a secret and cuddles it at night when Sanemi is on mission.
Sanemi finds it anyway. He doesn’t say anything either. He just holds it sometimes when Giyu isn’t looking, thumbs brushing over the stitches, smiling in that soft, private way he only ever allows himself when it’s about Giyu. Because even if Giyu won’t say it out loud, Sanemi knows exactly what it means: You are worth mending.
Sanemi Shinazugawa has never believed he was built for love.
He’s too loud, too angry, too sharp around the edges — someone who bites before barking. Even his feelings seem dangerous to him, since every time he let himself love, they would either leave or get taken away.
So when Giyu Tomioka stays —actually stays—, when he looks at Sanemi with those steady, gentle eyes, Sanemi can’t help but dread the moment he’ll inevitably push him too far.
He’s terrified of it.
Giyu sees it in the way Sanemi flinches after he snaps. In the way he pulls back after touching him, like he’s afraid affection is something he doesn’t even deserve.
And every time, Giyu reaches out again — not because he’s patient, but because he loves him.
Loves him in the quiet mornings.
Loves him when he’s furious.
Loves him especially when Sanemi can’t bring himself to.
And even if Sanemi won’t love himself yet… Giyu is more than willing to do it for him.
FIRST KISS//
Sanemi’s voice comes out rough.
“Why do you keep coming back’?” he asks, not looking at Giyu. “You know what I’m like.”
Giyu steps closer.
“I know,” he says softly. “That’s why.”
Sanemi laughs under his breath — broken, almost disbelieving.
“You’re gonna get tired of me.”
“I won’t,” Giyu says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And even if you don’t believe that… I do.”
Sanemi finally looks at him.
“You’re not scared of me?”
Giyu lifts a hand, hesitating only for a second before gently cupping Sanemi’s cheek.
“I’m scared for you,” he admits. “Because you don’t think you deserve this.”
Sanemi’s breath stutters.
“Giyu…”
“I’m here,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Something in Sanemi breaks open. He leans in before he can stop himself — slow, unsure, giving Giyu every chance to pull away.
Giyu doesn’t.
And for the first time, Sanemi doesn’t feel like something unlovable.
there i basically did all the work, im not a writer… someone else write the fanfic now
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