#than a guy who’s already considered gender and decided he’s still a man will be hurt by egg jokes

[juniepops]

I don’t have anything to say about it that other girlies haven’t but that one post complaining about trans women making egg jokes is irritating and I’m sick of seeing it. The one that’s like “"you are a girl, an egg waiting to crack and that’s ok" how about you are a boy and a man” likeeee. So this post isn’t really about egg jokes after all it’s about trans women trying to tell people it’s okay to be trans women. That’s what you think is bad and you think it’s more appropriate to stubbornly reaffirm cis men’s manhood. Good to know

[talesofely]

The (Wo)Man Who Can't Be Moved

Pairings : Natasha Romanoff x GN/Fem!Reader

Summary : Natasha's your ex-girlfriend, she broke up with you without giving you a solid reason as to why. Obviously, you want her back. One problem, she's unofficially dating Bucky Barnes. So you decided to solve it with a little performance.

Warnings : Angst, Fluff, Hopeful Ending (?), Swearing I think, reader is mostly gender neutral but i envisioned it as a fem!reader soooo, pls tell me if u see anything else

Note : I rlly wanna make a part 2 of this, lmk what u guys think thooo

Word Count : almost 2k

Save My Tears - Part 2

Tony decided to host another one of his famous Stark parties. This time, his excuse was that you are single again, and that Natasha and Bucky had something going on. What he didn't know was you and Natasha didn't quite end in good terms, cause she broke up with you. And of course... that you still miss her so god damn much.

So there you were, in your room, mentally preparing yourself to see the love of your life with her soon to be boyfriend. You didn't want to go, you absolutely wanted to just run away. But you couldn't. You had to show that the break up didn't affect you as much as they thought it did, even if it really did.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Come in." The door opened and revealed a redhead. You smiled sadly at the woman, it wasn't your redhead. It was Vision's.

"I told you I'm fine, Wands." You tried your best to give her a genuine chuckle. Wanda didn't seem to be convinced though.

"You look good, L/N. Trying to impress somebody?" Wanda said as she leaned against the closed door of your room.

"You already know the answer to that." You said as you shook your head, standing up to apply perfume.

"Just tell her, Y/N/N. I mean, you should shoot your shot before it's too late. I heard Buck's gonna ask her to be his girlfriend officially tonight." Wanda announced, watching you intently as you try desperately to calm your nerves.

"What am I supposed to say, Wands? Please take me back, I miss you so much, I know you broke up with me but I want you back?" You sarcastically said as you scoffed. "Plus, I don't wanna ruin what she has with Bucky. She must like him so much if she made their relationship public within three days of seeing each other."

"She isn't happy with him, and we both know that. I care about Natasha too, Y/N, I want her to be atleast happy with who she's with. Plus, how can you know she doesn't want you back if you haven't even asked?" Wanda asked with a raised brow. You didn't dare to make eye contact, just staring at the perfume bottle on your hand. "Think about it, alright?"

Wanda left your room, leaving you alone with more thoughts than you had 30 minutes ago.

Stark decided to go to the next level for this party. He had a stage in the middle of the living room, a bunch of speakers, and a mic stand.

The party was more lively than normal. Everyone was teasing the future couple, much to your annoyance. Natasha and Bucky were the center of attention.

Apparently, Bucky loves getting all that recognition and attention, but deep down you know Natasha doesn't. Your ex-girlfriend loves parties, but she doesn't like it when she's the center of attention. Bucky doesn't seem to know it considering he's showing her off like she's just a trophy.

You sat at the bar, alone, drinking your Aunt Roberta cocktail. Clint approached you, Tony right behind him. You didn't acknowledge them, just continuing to watch the 'It Couple' as Tony calls them.

"You okay, Y/n?" Clint asked with a small smile. You're guessing he didn't know what happened, you didn't know if Natasha told him how she broke your heart. You just nodded in response, drinking down the last of your cocktail.

"They're such a nice couple, right? Natasha and Bucky? I'm not glad you and Nat broke up but I'm glad they found each other." Tony said with a grin, oblivious to the fact that you want to punch him in the face.

"Mhm." You responded with another nod. You couldn't do this sober, but the alcohol wasn't doing anything.

"Hey, Y/N, you should sing! You have a great voice, right!? You used to sing for Natasha when you were still together!" Tony slurred out, obviously intoxicated now. Clint nodded in agreement, both trying to convince you to sing.

You didn't want to, you weren't in the right mood to put on a show.

However, when your eyes drift to Natasha and Bucky slow dancing to your song, 'Wonderful Tonight' by Eric Clapton, the same song you two always danced to, you snapped.

You cleared your throat to steal Tony and Clint's attention. You stood up and fixed your suit's jacket. The polo you were wearing underneath had three buttons unbuttoned, showing just enough for men and women to go wild.

"I'll go sing, Anthony. The tablet beside the mic is connected to the speakers, right?" You asked as Tony nodded eagerly. He always liked it when you sang, saying you had a specific vibe he couldn't get from other singers.

Before you could fully walk away, Clint shouted at you, making you turn around and raise a brow at him.

"Go get your girl back." He mouthed then winked. You rolled your eyes at him before flipping him off.

When you reached the stage, Steve got off and handed you the mic with a smile. You sat down on the chair, everyone was surprisingly cheering for you. Mostly everyone's eyes were on you, excited for the song you were about to play.

You didn't dare to look into the audience, in fear of meeting those green eyes you used to call home. The fondness in them wasn't for you anymore, anyways.

"Hey, everyone. I hope y'all are having an amazing night. I do hope you enjoy these songs I'm about to play." You said as you clicked the instrumental version of the song you chose, on the tablet.

Going back to the corner where I first saw you

Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move

Got some words on cardboard, got your picture in my hand

Saying, "If you see this girl can you tell her where I am?"

(Italics are flashbacks)

Three days after Natasha broke up with you, you decided to drive to a park where you two always went on. You sat on the exact bench where you asked her to be your girlfriend. Not a lot of people walked by, it was a slightly secluded area.

You stared at the lake in front of you, watching as the ducks you always used to feed with Natasha swim towards you. One duck in particular, the one you named Nibbles, the one you considered your child, approached you and stood on your foot.

You smiled sadly at him, caressing his fluffy head.

"Hi, Nibbles. Your mama isn't here, I'm sorry. We won't show up together anymore, buddy. I still promise to visit, okay?"

People were giving you weird looks but you didn't care. You just gave the duck a piece of bread that he dipped in the lake before waddling back to you so he could eat it beside you.

And how can I move on when I'm still in love with you?

You met those green eyes while singing the particular line. You couldn't read it, it had too many emotions for you to decipher. You saw her smile faltered though. You gave her a small bittersweet smile as everyone around you was singing along to the song and nodding their heads to the beat.

'Cause if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me

And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be

"Where the fuck is Y/N, Wanda?" Natasha asked, barging in the younger redhead's room.

Wanda's head snapped to her door. She saw Natasha was holding the letter you left in her room over and over again, memorizing every sentence. A few tears escaped, but she immediately wiped them away. She saw how the 'Love Always, Y/N.' was smudged, like it got wet from a teardrop.

"What do you mean, Natasha? I thought you knew she left. She's gone, Nat. She left for a no-contact mission, even Fury doesn't know when she'll be back." Wanda said flatly, standing up to kick Natasha out of her room.

"Why'd you care anyways? Miss her?" Wanda said sarcastically with an eye roll.

"She didn't tell me." Natasha murmured, stepping out of the room.

"Why would she? You broke up with her, remember?" With that, Wanda closed the door to her room, making sure to lock it.

Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet

And you'll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street

You walked around the park, even walking the streets where you two would 'window shop' but you end up buying her everything she looks at. Your feet stopped when you saw the familiar ice cream parlor on the corner of the street.

You remember taking her there on your first half-anniversary, right after you two finished a mission. The mission was rough, it didn't physically hurt any of you but it did take a toll on your mental states. You wanted to cheer her up and distract her so you made up an occasion to convince her to go eat ice cream.

Policeman says, "Son, you can't stay here"

I said, "There's someone I'm waiting for if it's a day, a month, a year.

Gotta stand my ground even if it rains or snows

If she changes her mind this is the first place she will go"

Your eyes met Steve's and he gave you a small smile. He remembers it too.

It was your first winter without Natasha. You were sitting on a swing in the park right in front of the compound. No one else was there except you cause it was cold and snowing really hard.

You felt someone sit on the swing beside you. It was Steve. He gave you a small comforting smile, nodding his head to greet you.

"You can't stay here all night, Y/N. It's cold, you should come in." He said in a low voice, trying to stay as casual as possible.

"I'm fine." You said, giving him an unconvincing smile.

"You're still waiting for her?" He asked. You looked at him but he was staring ahead.

You nodded timidly. "Always."

There are no holes in his shoes but a big hole in his world

"You're my world, Natasha." You murmured into her hair. You were cuddling in bed, her head on your chest.

She looked up at you, her ethereal green eyes staring up at you, filled with adoration. She smiled, that same smile that never fails to make your heart flutter no matter how many times you've seen it.

"I love you, детка." She whispered as you leaned down to press a soft kiss on her lips.

"I love you more, my Natalia."

Going back to the corner where I first saw you

Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move

When the last note ended, some were clapping, some were silent and looking at you in worry. You furrowed your brows, realizing a tear was currently rolling down your cheek.

You saw Clint giving you two thumbs up while Wanda was smiling sadly at you. You tried looking for your redhead, but you couldn't see her anywhere. Even Bucky wasn't there.

You bit your lower lip, trying to control your emotions. Did they leave together? Were they currently having the time of their life in Natasha's bedroom? Did Natasha bring Bucky to the rooftop like you two used to? Why did she leave?

You sighed and decided that you're going to take her absence as an answer to all your questions.

She moved on.

[the-s1lly-corner]

How they react to you telling them you're pregnant

Obligatory reader is afab but like most of my posts they're gn/gendered pronouns aren't used

Slenderman;

Cue the confusion

Pregnant?

Surprised more than anything, he didnt think that he could get you pregnant considering you're both different species

And also he didnt think he was fertile; at least not in the normal sexual reproduction way

Kinda just

Accepts it

Now do I think he would be a good dad?

Maybe? He wouldn't be horrible or absent, but some human things are still foreign to him, including raising a child.. so hes probably going to need a decent amount of guidance

I feel like he'd also be a helicopter parent? He already watches you like a hawk, he'd probably start doing the same with his kid as they get older

"Hey (kid name) who's that tall white boy following you??" "Oh that's my dad"/j

Becomes more protective of you during the pregnancy and the weeks after

Takes it in stride tbh

Splendorman;

Pause

Before you start to worry he scoops you up

Also thought it wasnt possible, but is hyped when he finds out the news

He WILL pamper you... may also dip into overbearing territory, though

He just doesnt want you or the baby to get hurt

He says goodnight to the bump later on in the pregnancy tbh

Oh you know hes gonna be decorating their room and giving them loads of toys

Would be a good father but may dip into unhealthy habits

This dude struggles with toxic positivity imo, so that's definitely something that's gonna need to be addressed

Laughing Jack;

Okay obviously ALL of them are probably going to be sat down and told the news, but Jack is gonna need the most talking to given that he probably doesn't grasp the gravity of it

He KNOWS what pregnancy is, he KNOWS what a baby is; but he doesn't know the intricacies of pregnancy if that makes sense

Like he doesnt know about the soreness, or cravings, or how fragile those tiny human beings actually are. Dude already struggles with being gentle with adults

So it's going to require a long and in depth talk about everything that's going to happen if you guys decide to keep the kid

Reaction wise, he takes it seriously. Kind of uncanny compared to his usual silly demeanor

Again, due to him being a lil dumb hes almost under reacting

As a parent I think...

Okay he'd probably kinda suck

He would love the kid but he would be so so so irresponsible I'm so sorry

Gives the kid candy for meals (bro cant cook)

Get that man into some parenting classes PLEASE

Eyeless Jack;

Another "I'm surprised because I deadass thought I was infertile" one, given my whole lore/Hc for EJ

The most worried out of them all

"What if they're like me and are cursed? What if they hate me? What if they grow to hate me? What if-"

He baby proofs his cabin... before insisting that the baby stays at your place primarily (if you haven't moved in with him) because he's scared of his whole... eating people thing

Please give him loads and loads of reassurance, hes gonna need it

He'll work hard to be the best father he can be, though!

He takes the kid out for walks in the woods, teaches them different plants and bugs and tells them which are dangerous

"Oh I don't want to hold them, what if I hurt em?" *falls asleep while holding his baby after reading them a story*

Masky;

You gotta baby proof him and the house im sorry, hes feral

Another "you're gonna have to sit him down and lay down the rules" type deal

Hes already mellowed out around you but he needs to mellow out a touch more for an infant

Hard to gauge his reaction but he seems.... excited? Hard to tell when hes sitting still and wearing a mask

When the baby comes he, like slenderman, also watches them like a hawk

You will walk in on him sitting over their crib at 3am/hj

Surprisingly gentle when it comes to handling the kid, just casually walks around with them and shit

Great for looking after the kid during the night while you rest

Hoodie;

V similar to Masky but he's already naturally calm

Putting this here now before I forget but he would take his mask off to make faces at the baby to try to make them laugh

Mf doesn't take his mask off for you though ☝️🙄/hj

Surprisingly good at calming down screaming infants for some reason

Similar reaction as Masky; hard to read but way easy to guess its positive since he lightly boinks where his mouth would be under his mask to your cheek while papping your stomach

Hes a lil silly

But hes got the spirit

Good dad, me thinks

[allastoredeer]

Personally I think Alastor, Lucifer AND Angel are on the pretty boy side of the scale and none of that has to do with their preferences in bed. More like in... How to say it... Body type and behavior? All three are obviously men but don't quite adhere to the masculine/feminine dichotomy.

With Alastor it seems to me that he is closer to "masculine" but not in an alpha range, but in that he sees himself as a "gentleman" and at least a part of him consciously or unconsciously knows that the male representation has more privilege, but he doesn't particularly care as much

AAngel just does his thing, and I think Angel has benefited from and used looking more "delicate" or "feminine" more than once to his advantage in getting underestimated. I think that gender in general is quite fluid for Angel, but not so much because he has thought about it but because living and dead, roles have been imposed on him that he has taken as a mask for himself.I imagine he is very comfortable with himself now but the impression I got is that Angel oscillates between hating and loving his own traits due to how little control he has and how he is perceived.

(I'm thinking specifically about how he talks about his body and how attractive it is but sees himself as only important because of those kinds of things. After E4 it's obviously in a much better place. What I'm saying is that with Angel it's complicated because it's part his own feelings and part coping mechanis)

Lucifer actually exudes an aura of seduction, it's just those bedroom eyes and his whole vibe when he decides he's going to crush this guy he met 5 minutes ago. But I think the show did well to represent a beauty that tends more towards androgynous with him. And as we've already talked about, Lucifer gives off very versatile vibes, I think he would be the middle ground.

I definitely agree that all three of them are on the pretty boy side. Pretty, pretty, pretty boys

(I couldn't find a better gif of Angel forgive me)

Though, I do see Alastor more on the feminine side than the masculine side. He is a gentleman, but sometimes I think people lean too far into him being a gentleman.

Like, not to bring Websters Dictionary into this (Cambridge Dictionary technically) but the definitions of gentleman are:

A polite way of talking to or referring to a man. Obvious one, but not the definition people use.

A man of a high social class. Which, yeah, considering Alastor is an Overlord in Hell, technically he is part of a high social class. But that's not typically the type of gentleman he is depicted as either.

A man who is polite and behaves well towards other people, especially women: This is the one I think people lean on, which I find funny because Alastor is polite and he can behave well, but typically that is only aimed at women. Not people in general. I see him being a gentleman with women, but even then, not all the time - does that make sense?

Like, there are times he still acts like a mean little bastard, even to women (albeit less often) like when Charlie was having a break down in her bedroom cuz she found out her girlfriend has been lying to her for years and she'd essentially doomed everybody she cared about. Alastor had no sympathy for her, he didn't actually care about the situation, he went up there with the sole intent to get something from her. He was blunt, rubbed her situation in her face, and then gaslit, gatekeeped, and girlbossed his way into getting a deal out of her.

Yes, his words were crafted in a way that can seem gentlemanly, but that doesn't mean he was being a gentleman. He wasn't being polite, he was being a sassy, condescending little shit.

And I'm not saying Alastor isn't a gentleman, he definitely acts like a one when he wants to be, especially around those he likes or respects (like Rosie, Niffty, and Zestial - and yes, even Charlie and Vaggie). But like...most of the time? He's just a smooth-talking bitch with fancy words (affectionate).

Don't get me wrong, I definitely see Alastor as being a gentleman, but I don't see him being as much of a gentleman as people make him out to be, which actually might be the reason why he so often loses his clownish, trolling nature in fanon, because that gentlemanly characteristic he's been given implies some level of general politeness and good behavior, which cancels out when he's trolling and/or insulting people. He can be more passive-aggressively and subtle about it, like he did with Lucifer, but I still wouldn't call that being a gentleman.

I agree with Angel though! I think, while Angel has benefitted looking more feminine, he also enjoys presenting as feminine. I can see him being very fluid in it.

"the impression I got is that Angel oscillates between hating and loving his own traits due to how little control he has and how he is perceived."

THIS! ⬆️ Definitely agree with this. 100%. Perfectly said.

As for Lucifer, I do see the seduction side of him, even if I think it's overblown at times. He has amazing bedroom eyes. I agree that there is an androgynous beauty to him, but at the same time, idk a lot of the time, he still came off as very masculine to me. Could've been the way he carried himself. Could've been his voice. Could've been the way he spoke. Don't know for sure.

I think Lucifer can fluctuate before feminine and androgynous, but overall, he felt masculine most of the time.

[mercillery]

DANTE WITH A SHY S/O

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + TOXIC STUFF

NOTES: Credits to frit_2 for the beautiful fanart <333

╰┈➤ ❝ I could devour you whole, and yet you hesitate. How delightful. ❞

No one could have ever imagined a man like him being with someone as timid as you, not even his own siblings. He’s the very embodiment of pride and evil. And then there’s you—an incredibly timid and shy soul who somehow ended up with someone so diametrically opposed to your nature. It’s an extraordinary and baffling pairing, so much so that it defies all logic and expectations. 

Your relationship with Dante is definitely shaped by a constant play of power dynamics. Dante thrives on control and dominance, not just in his professional life but also personally. Your shyness and gentle nature provide a counterbalance, creating a dynamic where he often takes the lead. Depending on how you feel about it, this can either be a good thing or a bad thing—a bad thing because you may want to have your own voice, but Dante's leadership completely overshadows it. But most shy people might prefer having someone take the lead for them, right? If that's the case for you, then there's no need to worry—Dante will gladly take on that role. He's been doing it his whole life and has no problem continuing, especially for someone he so dearly loves. His natural confidence and ability to steer situations make him well-suited to guide you, leaving you with little to no worries about taking the lead on anything.

Dante is extremely possessive and protective of you, maybe even more so than he usually is with other women because of your timid nature. While this can sometimes feel suffocating, it also means he is always there, ready to shield you from any danger. His protectiveness doesn't come from a place of gentle care; rather, it's driven by a desire to keep what he considers his from any harm or interference. In Dante's eyes, you are a precious possession, and his protective instincts are fierce and unwavering. Again, this intense possessiveness can be overwhelming, but it also means you are constantly under his vigilant watch, never left to face challenges alone. I guess this is another thing where it’s up to you whether you like it or not.

It pains me to say this next part, but I have to keep him in character, you guys. I’m sorry. 😞

Dante definitely has expectations, and they're pretty high. Your shyness sometimes makes it challenging to meet those expectations, which can lead to him trying to change you—sometimes forcefully. Basically, he might try to mold you into his ideal woman. He'll push you to be more confident, even if you really aren’t feeling like it. However, these little conflicts usually don't last long. In the end, he might actually decide that your shyness suits you better than confidence anyway. Still, these mini-conflicts pop up in your relationship from time to time, and that can get pretty frustrating. It's like a cycle—you clash over your differences, he tries to change you, and then things go back to how they were until the next time. It's not always smooth sailing, that's for sure.

Dante is a master manipulator, and he sometimes uses his charm and power to influence your actions and emotions. He knows how to exploit your shyness to his advantage, subtly guiding you to rely on him more deeply. Over time, this creates a bond of dependency, where you find yourself increasingly drawn into his world and influence. This is the part where I told you how he believes shyness fits you better than confidence—because as much as he loves confident women, he absolutely eats up the way you’re dependent on him, something he craves more and more by the day even if you’re already as dependent on him as one can be. 

Being Dante's lover means you're always close to the other members of the Dark Triad. This might be your very own personal hell because your shyness often makes you vulnerable in such a dangerous and intense environment, but Dante's influence provides a shield of protection around you! But still, you have to navigate the complexities of their group dynamics, which isn't easy. Earning the wary respect of those around him is a delicate balance. They know you're important to Dante, so they tolerate you and watch you closely. This constant scrutiny adds another layer of difficulty, making it even more crucial to find your footing in a world where power and loyalty are everything.

In summary, being Dante Zogratis' shy lover is a journey filled with intense emotions, shifting power dynamics, and deep, albeit complicated, affection. It's not always easy, and it certainly comes with its fair share of challenges. But at the end of the day, you're his golden possession, standing out among all others. That unique bond, for better or worse, sets you apart and ties you closely to him in ways that few others could ever understand. You’re the only case where he’ll gladly nurture you instead of crushing you—like a flower.

[prismatoxic]

I know you've been having oc brainrot recently, (which, fucking epic btw I just now found out about those guys and they're really fucking interesting too) I was just wondering if you had anything sitting in your brain about promises to keep specifically, something about them that you just can't stop thinking about? Or a thing you really enjoy about their dynamic? Even something completely unrelated to chilaios that you always think about. I'd rlly love to hear abt what makes you tick!

this is such a nice ask wtf

glad you like the sillies, they fill my brain with worms. but as for ptk and/or chilaios...

i do still rotate ptk in my mind fairly frequently, and was actually re-reading it recently so try and get back into the headspace for it. (i got to chapter 4, i have to get back to it soon.) i do have a variety of disorganized thoughts about it

i've been deliberately drawing out the sex stuff, obviously. to tell you the truth i'm not someone who's beholden to realism; i chose to have them actually work their way up to penetration, and actually realistically negotiate the daddy kink, because i thought it fit the tone of the story and would draw things out in a satisfactory way. it also gives me time to explore the different ways their inexperience manifests, show them learning each other's bodies and desires, and explore chilchuck's view of his own body and his relationship to his gender via sex over a longer period of time.

which brings me to another part i put a lot of thought into--chilchuck's gender! i am a fan of a lot of interpretations of him, both cis and transmasc in ways other than what i've been writing. i have plans for at least one fic where he's post top surgery and on T. but i chose to make him pre-everything in ptk for a few reasons, and i'm honestly really pleased with the portrayal. some things i haven't gotten to mentioning yet are that half-foot names are considered unisex (not a headcanon i always go with, but i am fond of it), and he did voice training after he came out. it was more accessible than, like, hormones, at least back in kahka brud, and then he ended up pregnant anyway which delayed doing anything. eventually he decided he didn't really need any of it, anyway. (sorry to deprive everyone of tdick chilchuck 😔.) i like exploring his dysphoria, where it exists versus the many places where he's moved past it, his relationship to sex as a trans man and his concerns about a gay cis man wanting him... while i do insert some of my own experiences into the narrative, chilchuck's transgenderism does manifest in several ways mine doesn't, and it's really fun to figure out what makes sense for him.

speaking of things that are fun to figure out: worldbuilding!! i was told early on that the casual inclusion of "the dungeon age" as a phrase was a really genius method of suggesting the state of the world without exposition, and it very much went to my head, lmao. i do exposition every so often, but only when someone in the conversation doesn't already have the information. so laios explaining monsters and their history, and chilchuck explaining the social structures around half-foots and the differences between kahka brud and the northern continent, are easy ways to try and build on the world i've made--make readers see my vision--without it seeming too out of place. i do hope i'm doing that well, i worry about it when i'm not being subtle, lmao.

other than that--i've set up several plot threads i intend to follow through on later. i really enjoy calling back to earlier things, big or small, and using them in ways people might not expect. (like chekov's plastic wrap from chapters 3 and 10. sorry, chilchuck.) i also thought of a new one while rereading that i think will slot into the narrative nicely. it's going to be a fun ride!!

i hope any of this was interesting :')

[tyrannuspitch]

okay i've used the word homophobia to talk about a specifically bisexual character too many times recently, so let's talk about potential manifestations of specific *biphobia* in asgard.

please note that i have done no extra research on this (yet?), i'm just extrapolating from what i know about historical ergi stigma (and what i've already extrapolated from not very detailed info on that!), so this is firmly historically *inspired* fantasy territory.

i'm going to leave aside the matter of gender-conforming stone top msm for the moment, because while they are a group who Exist, they're pretty distinctly queer by modern western standards and straight by asgardian standards, which is kind of messy and not the central point here. (also, top/bottom/vers is not a question applicable to all possible sex acts, so the exact requirements of your stone top no-homo-ing are unclear; and the question of identity based in action vs identity based in desire is also possibly complicated, imo a lot more complicated than people tend to give it credit for... it's just super messy okay.)

instead, as the closest equivalent to "bisexual men", let us consider men who a) are definitely queer by asgardian standards (feminine and/or interacting with men as a vers or bottom) and b) are interacting romantically/sexually with women.

a number of possibilities for an asgardian opinion on them:

1: modern-style bi erasure. pffft, this relationship is clearly fake. a queer man could never be a REAL partner to a woman, so either she's covering for him out of pity or he's fooled her.

on one hand, i feel like this is slightly less likely than in the modern day, because it does seem to centre attraction as definitive of queerness, and hence the idea that you can only engage with one gender. on the other hand, the idea that queer and straight men are deeply, fundamentally different with no overlap is very affirming to straight men. so perhaps this could still be one manifestation.

1b. bi erasure specifically through inadequacy. it's not that we don't think queer men WANT women, it's just that they'll never be good enough for them. maybe he's got her fooled for now, but she'll realise soon enough.

these two options mostly invite ridicule, but could escalate into violence towards either partner to try and "prove" what a "real man" is.

2. a sense of threat / unfairness. women are only meant to like masculine men, but this feminine man DOES have a female partner. how? why is this feminine man reaping the rewards of masculinity?

2a. in which the fem man is a usurper and a sinister, dishonourable threat who is stealing/corrupting the woman. the woman is assumed to be victim but probably also victim-blamed, like an antieffeminate spin on the "woman hate nice guys" trope.

2b. in which we do Gender Arithmetic and decide that a fem man could only possibly be partnered with a masc woman. now the woman is the sinister usurper of masc/male power, and the man is the weak/foolish traitor allowing it. in theory, this relationship would be comedic, but actual examples of it would be extremely threatening.

this also raises the most interesting possibility to me - an attitude parallel to modern mononormativity, but instead of claiming that you can only truly be attracted to one gender, it claims that you can only truly play one gendered sexual role. a queer man must ALWAYS be a fem sub bottom, whether his partner is a man or a woman - so a man being queer proves a male partner of his straight, but makes a female partner appear queer too. which from a modern perspective is pretty wild!

anyway. these two options frame the relationship as a more direct threat, and as such, are more likely to result in violence (or to result in it sooner, or worse.) this is especially true if both partners are being interpreted as queer here.

lacking any historical info as pointers, i feel like all of these options are fairly plausible. and all, independently, pretty fucked up.

i'm not sure how to wrap up this post, but in general, when considering ergi stigma, i think it's important to account for the fact that (perceived) gender expression is central, not attraction, so being in an m/f relationship is not necessarily going to do much to protect you. which is also true of modern real-world biphobia to an extent - people can and frequently do experience biphobia in m/f relationships, and i'd be willing to bet there's at least one modern real-world example of every single specific attitude i described here, even if they're not all common. but the irrelevance of relationship status does bear repeating, especially when the central definition of ergi is often euphemised as "passive homosexual". like, yes, but no. it's not just about that act. it's about the gendered implications of that act, which, once acquired, can set you apart forever.

[gon-and-killuas-mother]

cishet white guy nursing student had a fascinating (and endearing) reaction to my experiences with hospitals

thinking about last week when i did the second queer-centered patient simulation for the new LGBTQ+ program at our university hospital. this is the same one i helped develop, and it's the first of its kind in our state (which is crazy!! i'm part of something groundbreaking!!)

at the end of it, the two other "patients" and i had to join the debrief, to share our impressions and advice with the students.

for the most part, as with any student, they were all nervous to interact with something new without any of the history or context, and all of them held a sizable fear of offending us. but each of them did wonderfully and treated us like any other patient: like humans.

one of the students was a guy in his thirties, and though he wasn't assigned to me he still listened to everything i had to say to all the students.

first i went "Congrats, y'all just met some queer folk!" as an ice breaker, bc i got the impression that most of them hadn't interacted with (openly) queer people before.

i also let them know that 1) they had the hard job when it came to pronouns; i don't refer to myself in the third person, as it's just me, myself, and i. and 2) don't worry about being accidentally offensive, bc if we got offended every time we got misgendered then every day would be exhausting.

and then, i ended with something a bit more personal but explained that many, many queer and trans people went through something similar.

i said, "Please understand, going to the hospital is a frightening experience for a lot of queer folk. Sometimes, the only way to ensure our safety and treatment, is to pretend I'm a girl. Until I know for sure I can trust you, I remain "undercover". It's not comfortable, but it's better than fighting for my identity every time I see a doctor."

the student mentioned before, the cishet white guy in his thirties, apparently got stuck on that. during the final round of comments, he spoke up and looked at me with a genuinely distressed expression.

"You mentioned you have to default to your assigned gender just to go to the doctor?" he said. he's a tall, broad man that had to twist and fold into the desk chair, and i guess he'd been working already from how frazzled and sweaty he was. nothing about him looked comfortable, but his expression, though pinched with concern, was open and listening.

"My current PCP still believes I'm a girl," I replied. "I've known him almost my whole life, but he's never given me any indication I can trust him. He's a kind old man, but there's always a fear that if I come out to him, then I won't receive the treatment I need. It's not a guarantee, but this has happened to many trans people before."

The concern in the student's face turned to genuine frustration. "I'd never considered that before, that's just," he tried. "That's just not right."

i'm reminded of the first time i read "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas" in high school. our English teacher wanted us to decide for ourselves, would we stay in the utopia that depends on the suffering of one person, or leave?

a surprising amount of my classmates said they'd stay, bc there was nothing to be done about the one in suffering. and yeah, most of the class were white middle/upper class cishet people

i was horrified. when it was my turn to answer, i said, "I would leave."

"Why?" my teacher asked.

"Because it isn't right," i insisted. i couldn't put words to the disgust i was feeling. how could i possibly remain somewhere i knew for a fact relied on suffering to exist?

the teacher tried to get me to think past "right and wrong", or at least to find words to explain why this scenario was so wrong to me. and even then, i knew he was in agreement with me. but it was a philosophical question designed to make the reader think, to examine their beliefs when faced with a choice that many claim impossible. and the teacher informed us that our society is already like this due to colonialism and capitalism.

but i was stuck, because this was the first time i saw just how many people were ok with Omelas, and i got sick to my stomach so couldn't get past "This is just wrong, it's wrong!"

my twin brother, who had the same class with me, had what i thought was the best and most practical answer (and i was so so relieved)

"I'd walk away," my brother said. "I'm not going to rely on someone else for my happiness, not if I can help it. My home and health will be my own responsibility."

that nursing student had his Omelas moment. he'd never had to consider if he could trust his doctor or not, he'd never had to fight for treatment just because of his gender or sexuality. but he finally saw the metaphorical unnamed human being suffering in silence as the rest of society went on with their blissful lives.

i don't think i've ever been so happy to see someone so frustrated. and i made sure to tell him how much i appreciated it, it's not something you can easily explain to cishet people but he caught on fast enough that i'm fully convinced he's going to be a kind, compassionate nurse one day.

[pregcule]

Silly Little Pinned Intro Post

Hi! Though all of us have SFW personal social media, we decided it would be fun to create a Tumblr account to chronicle our pregnancy journey as a polycule including the sexy aspects of it since we all have pregnancy kinks of varying sorts. Here we are introduced in alphabetical order!

---

Guess I’ll be starting this off. I’m Charlotte, I’m 32 and I’m a trans woman who uses she/her pronouns. I’m a stay-at-home mom who also runs an Etsy store selling LGBT-themed fibercrafts.

Glenn. 31. He/they. Butch. I’ve only started dating these folks recently but I already feel very valued and loved. I’m not currently pregnant but I had a child with a previous partner.

Name’s Frankie. I’m 29 and I use she/her and he/him pronouns, just be sure to mix them up. I’m the resident girlboy fagdyke and I’m currently pregnant with twins. I work as a tattoo artist and I’ve also got a lot of tattoos and piercings myself.

I’m Horatio. I’m 27 years old and I’m a pan trans guy who uses he/him pronouns. Even though I’m pregnant I’m still hard at work pursuing my PhD in English, and considering that I had my first kid while I was still in grad school I think I can get through this. I’m married to Judah.

Jo. 37. She/they. Trans butch. Probably won’t be posting here much. I work as an electrician.

I’m Judah. I’m 26 and I use he/him pronouns. My husband likes to call me “cis+” because I went through the process of questioning my gender before coming out the other side still identifying as a man. I met Horatio in college and I knocked him up while he was in grad school, oops. I’m a stay-at-home dad.

Sup. I’m Nadia and I’m 24 and I use she/it pronouns. I’m a trans girl and I got a super cool surgery that means that I can carry a child. I’m currently pregnant with my first kid and I’m nervous but mostly excited and grateful. I also stream on Twitch.

I’m Roxxi! I’m 27 and I use xe/xem and it/its pronouns, but you can basically use any neopronouns for me as long as they’re fun :3. Cringe culture is dead and I killed it myself, I’m a scene kid who’s all grown up now and, unsurprisingly, I’m pregnant :3.

Heyyy I’m Spencer. I use they/he pronouns and I’m 22. I met Nadia at a con and the two of us hit it off pretty quickly and well the rest was history. Just a hairy pregnant trans guy cosplayer I guess.

---

Some of us may end up posting on this blog more than others. Feel free to send us asks and we’ll try to answer all of them in a timely manner.

[Disclaimer: this is a pregnancy kink roleplay blog. All the characters and events that are depicted are entirely fictional.]

[thranduilsperkybutt]

GIRLS ON FILM

Photo sources:  1  |  2 

Pairings:  Steve Harrington/Reader

Warnings:  NSFW; smut; fluff; amateur corn production; literally no proof-reading; plot? what plot?

Word Count:  6,001 words

Reader Gender:  Female

Author:  Meg

Summary:  You need a subject for your photography class assignment. Luckily, your boyfriend is more than willing to help you out. Some pictures, however, might be better off left between just the two of you...

A/N:  Caught you in 4k 📸 Had to bang this out before volume 2 crushed my soul, so, here you go 🤡🤡 I’m in full clown-mode denial that anything is going to happen to my faves at all rn---

Hoisting your bag onto your arm, you make your way out of the lecture hall, still dwelling on the newest assignment your professor had given out. You were supposed to photograph someone important to you in your own unique portraiture method, which had set off a few groans in class when the professor had first announced it. There were clearly several people who had no idea who they were going to make the subject of their assignment, meanwhile your mind had immediately gone to one specific person.

Steve Harrington was perhaps the most important person in your life right now, which makes sense, considering your relationship with the man has been serious since last March. It was perhaps the only thing he was serious about at this current time in his life, with how he was still undecided on his major after nearly a year and a half’s worth of college courses.

His father wanted him to go into tech, but Steve had been so uncertain that any chance at getting into somewhere other than the community college a county over from Hawkins had flown out the window. It was still a touchy subject, and the fact that his wealthy parents still had him working part-time at the Family Video store, despite pursuing an education, was evidence enough that his father hadn’t forgiven him for not applying himself harder. He has a little over a semester’s worth of classes left until you both are set to transfer to state, and he has to decide on something to do with his life by then in order to appease his parents.

Well, something other than dating you, because you’re the only thing in his life right now that Steve’s absolutely certain he wants.

And you’re absolutely certain that Steve is the man for this assignment.

He’s already helped you set up a few of your other projects for this class, between studying for the few classes you share together, so you’re pretty sure he’ll help you out again, if you ask him nicely.

Pushing past the double doors leading out to the parking lot, it’s not difficult to find his beamer parked right where it always is. Steve’s sitting in the driver’s seat with the window rolled down, undoubtedly enjoying the temperate weather after having got out of his own class that ends thirty minutes before yours. The closer you get, the more you can hear the music on his radio, and it becomes clear that he’s either taking a nap or has his eyes closed behind the sunglasses perched on his nose, because he makes no move to acknowledge your approach.

Leaning on the windowsill, you bend into the car swiftly to place a peck on his cheek, “Guess who?”

“That better be my girlfriend, or I’m in trouble,” he grins, raising his head from where it had been leant back on the seat to look at you through his shades. “How was class?”

“Same old, same old,” you roll your eyes, pushing off the door to go around to the passenger side. Dumping your bag into the back seat, you slide in beside him, continuing, “Dr. Tanner gave us another assignment.”

“Oh?” Steve hums, shifting gears to drive out of the parking lot. “She likes to give you guys a lot of things to do, huh?”

“Yeah, she always is saying that the more we practice, the better our photos will be. I guess she’s right,” you sigh, sinking into the seat and deciding to test the waters. “How about your day? How’s it been?”

Steve groans, jaw clenching as he turns his blinker on, “You don’t want to know. My dad’s gonna’ kill me when I make a C in biology.”

“You got your test back?”

“Unfortunately. At least yesterday I still could live with the hope of getting a B—”

“I’m sure there’s some way to improve your grade. There’s still one more test before the final, right?” You lean towards him, reaching out to give his shoulder a comforting rub, “I’ll help you. I’m doing alright in biology since Dr. O’Malley explains things pretty well.”

“Yeah, but O’Malley at least teaches you what’s gonna’ be on the tests! I feel like every time my guy gives us a lecture, he’s telling us what not to study, because it’s never on his exams!” Steve huffs your name with frustration, “I made a fifty-eight. A fifty-eight! That’s like if a nuke hit my B-average.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I know you studied hard for it,” you murmur, knowing there’s nothing you can do about it now, and instead focus on perhaps cheering him up, “Want to get drive-thru before we hit the interstate? Like KFC or something? I know you must be starving.” It’s about an hour’s drive back to Hawkins, and food is the only thing that you can think of that might make the situation at least a little better for now.

“Yeah, I guess I could eat,” he doesn’t sound convincing.

You give his shoulder a squeeze, feeling him relax slightly at the touch, “You’ll feel better after.”

The side-eyed glance he gives you lets you see a glimpse of his dark eyes beyond the sunglasses, and you offer him an encouraging smile that he returns, “You’re probably right. Man, I’m moping, aren’t I? Sorry to be such a downer.”

“No, it’s okay. You know you don’t have to be on all the time with me,” when he stops at a red light, he reaches from the gear shift to rest his hand on your thigh, leaning into your touch when you move to caress his cheek. “We’ll work through it together, yeah?”

Steve nods, smile spreading into something more genuine, something that reaches his eyes, when he sighs softly, “What did I do to deserve you, honey?”

“Probably something amazing, I’m sure,” you giggle, before retreating back into your seat and turning up the radio just enough to hear a familiar song you liked.

The wind flowing through his open window ruffles his hair as he continues driving on the turning of the light, “That assignment you were talking about— what’s it going to be this time?”

“Well, I have to take a series of photos involving someone I care about, and make them unique to my personal style.”

“Ah,” he begins, “so who’re you gonna’ ask—?”

Rolling your eyes, you snort, “You, obviously! Who else?”

“I don’t know! I thought, maybe, like, Robin, or your parents, or something—” he quickly runs through his options.

“Of course I was gonna’ ask you, Steve. You’re pretty much the most special person in my life—”

“Aw,” he grins, teasing, “I’m special to you? That’s so sweet.”

“Shut up,” you fight against the warmth rising to your cheeks. Even after all this time, he still can make you flustered, and you know he knows it, “Well, will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Be my subject!”

“Uh, sure,” he hums, “I just gotta’ work this weekend. I’m off Sunday, though, so we could do it then, unless you’re busy.”

“Sunday works,” agreement on your tongue, you’re glad you’ll have a few days to figure out what kind of set up you want for the photos. “You could bring your bio books, too, and we could study together.” Steve groans his reluctance until you point at him, “Hey, I’m gonna’ make sure you get the grade you need, mister!”

“Sunday’s supposed to be a day of rest or something, isn’t it?” he whines, taking the turn towards the restaurant.

“There ain’t no rest for the wicked, Steve,” you tease, grinning, as he shoots you a look beneath a raised brow.

“The wicked, and college students, huh?” Steve shakes his head, a smile lingering on his lips as he pulls up behind the cars waiting in line at the drive-thru, “Come on, tell me what you want.”

Reaching around the seat, you grab your bag to rummage through it in search of some cash, “I’m treating you today, okay? Because you had a bad day— no arguing!” You can tell he wants to, by the time you plop back into your seat with your wallet in hand, but you silence whatever protest he’s about to start into when you lean into his personal space, his eyes darting to your lips when you repeat, “No arguing,” before kissing him.

Trying to keep it proper, considering you were still in semi-public, you don’t give Steve much attention before you’re pulling away, and he’s pouting, but concedes all the same, “Fine, but I’m getting it next time.”

“Mhm,” you hum, biting into your smile as you flip open your wallet.

“I am,” Steve leans towards you, catching your attention with a playful look of determination, shooting your own words back at you. “See this face? No arguing!”

“I’m not arguing!” Gesturing to the car in front of you which had driven forward in the time it had taken for him to get distracted, you refocus him, “Pull up, Steve!”

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought.”

A wide grin cuts along his teeth, like he knows he’ll get his way, which he will. He almost always does, when it comes to treating you to little things like this. Steve was the kind of guy who liked to feel like he was taking care of someone, but the truth was, he needed you just as much as you needed him. Maybe neither of you were truly reliant on each other financially, but when it comes down to the little moments of every day you spent together? Without that, you’re certain you’d simply wither up and die.

Steve had been your safe place, whenever something was going wrong in your life. You knew you could confide in him about anything, and he’d try to support you through it. Maybe that’s why you can allow yourself to give him the same, because Steve Harrington made loving you look easy, even when you knew it wasn’t always the case.

Comfortable is a forbidden word to some couples. They’re so used to the high of a honeymoon phase, or the anxiety of a struggling relationship, that when the lull of everyday comfortability sets in, it’s mistaken for boredom. For something being terribly wrong. You’d been that way once, before him, and judging by what he’d told you of his past relationships, he’d been victim to that same uncertainty in the past.

The truth is, you wouldn’t rather have him any other way. Slipping into this sneaky vulnerability that comes with the soft comfort which spreads through your soul every time he touches you, or calls you his, is a state you’d gladly live in for the rest of your days.

You’ve been head over heels for him for far longer than you ever realized.

That’s why the next couple of days were hard. Whenever you were separated by work, only able to see him between classes and shifts, as silly as it sounds, you’re missing him by Sunday. Sure, he called you the night before— he always makes sure to call you on the days you can’t see each other in person, but you’re still a bundle of nervous excitement as you set up the finishing touches for the photos of him you had planned.

It was a photography studio on a student budget, also known as a sheet pinned against your shoebox of an apartment’s wall, with strategic lighting positioned around it. You’ve decided on seeing what you can accomplish with polaroids, rather than the film processing you’d have to do otherwise.

You wanted to focus on minimalism, on just him, hoping that maybe the lack of focus on anything else would show how little everything else matters in comparison. Or, at least, that it’ll get you a good grade on the project.

Sighing, you plop down onto your bed to get as much a distant look at the set-up as you can in the cramped space, before deciding that it was as close as you had imagined in your head as you were going to get for now. The sound of the key in your lock lets you know it’s just in the nick of time, too, because within moments Steve is pushing open your door.

“Your model has arrived,” he calls out, before catching sight of you on the bed. He does a dramatic little spin to show off his outfit, which consists of a blue sweater and gray slacks, before shutting your front door behind him with a grin, “I’m ready for Vogue.”

Chuckling, “Perfect timing! I just got done setting everything up.” He’s tucking his keys into his pocket when you look around him, “Did you forget your biology book?”

“Ugh,” he groans before collapsing beside you on the bed, pushing himself up on his elbow to affix you with a reluctant, “it’s rotting in the trunk of my car. I was hoping you’d forget about bio…” blinking up at you, he bats his eyes as if to persuade you, “since I’m being such a great guy and helping you out with your project, and all…”

“Steve!” you huff when he pokes you in the side, swatting at his hands, “It’s for your own good!”

“I’ve just accepted my fate at this point—”

“No, come on,” you shift to turn towards him more fully, dangling one leg off the bed with the other crossed beneath your hands. “There’s more fight in you than that! Look, how about we do the shoot, then we can study a little, and spend the rest of the day doing something fun together? At the very least, we should go over your test together…”

A smile slowly parts his lips, as Steve jokes, “Alright, professor, we’ll do it your way,” before sitting up properly to sneak a kiss at your cheek. “So, tell me all about where you want me for this shoot.”

Escaping the way his hands have started to snake around your waist, you move towards the camera you’ve set up on the small space of a kitchen counter that you have, “I’m thinking, polaroids this time. I did regular film for the last project, but the professor is giving us more creative leeway with this one. Besides, I’ve been wanting to do something serious with this thing for class ever since you got me it for my birthday…”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve nods, as if he’s said anything different when you told him the last few project ideas you’ve come up with, “I think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not finished telling you everything about my idea,” you begin, picking at the camera in your hands as you confess the one point you weren’t entirely sure if he’d be okay with. “I wanted to do a minimalist kind of thing, and you can totally say no if you want to. I’m sure I could make it work otherwise—”

Steve raises a brow at your rambling tone, “What?”

“I was thinking… about maybe taking a few pictures… without your shirt? Like I was going to pose you so it’s like, this artistically minimal kind of thing, and it would only be shots from the waist up, but I totally get if you’re not comfortable with doing that—” your voice dies in your throat when Steve stands up and simply tugs his sweater over his head, laying it over the rails of your bed’s iron footboard.

Moving closer, he smirks at having successfully silenced you, “You want me to sit on the stool?”

“Yeah, um,” you tear your eyes away from him, towards your setup, and the stool sat in the middle of it. “Kind of with your back to me— I’ll show you.”

When you have him successfully positioned, in the stool, pushing his hair the way you want it to look, he grins at your look of concentration, “Can’t get enough of this pretty face, huh?”

“Quit smiling,” you snicker, before pulling back to look at him through the camera lens, “I want a neutral look on your face in these shots.”

“Neutral, huh?” he proceeds to frown.

“Neutral, not frowning! Think of, like, clean laundry, or something that makes you feel calm—”

“Clean laundry?” he was heavily judging your choice, “That’s what makes you calm?”

“Steve,” you whine, lowering the camera from your face, “just think of something calming.”

“Okay, okay, just gimme’ a second,” he relents, as you bring the camera back up to line up the shot. Finally, he breathes, “Got it,” before his face settles into a calm neutral expression, dark brown eyes looking at the camera just the way you want.

“Perfect,” you snap the shot, before hearing the whirr of the film as it gets ejected. Fanning the picture until it starts to appear, you feel your smile spreading when you begin to make out the photo. It turned out great. Setting the picture on the counter, you turn back to Steve, “Alright, just keep doing that. I’m gonna’ get some different angles.”

“Okay. Just make sure you make me look cool,” of course that would be his one concern.

Before you can reposition him again, you try out some different angles. You want to have multiple shots to choose from, so you don’t wind up having to take more pictures of him later. You’d learned your lesson before about not getting enough shots, and it was more of a hassle in the long run than just taking your time while you had everything set up. You spend almost half an hour taking the shots between soft banter with Steve, which is honestly less time than you’d expected it to take, but Steve was more focused today than he usually is.

Flipping through the stack of polaroids you’ve taken, you hold out some for Steve to see, “Wanna’ take a look?”

“We done?”

“I think so. They turned out really nice. I’ll have to narrow down my favorite ones to submit for class…” Steve’s fingers brush yours as he takes the pictures from your hands, looking through them. You hope he thinks they look as good as you do, “What do you think?”

“I think,” his eyes flick up from the pictures to catch your waiting stare, “I’ve never looked better.” You let out a breath of relief, taking the pictures back from him to sort out on the counter, while Steve plucks the camera into his hands, “This is a nifty little thing, huh? I didn’t expect it to be able to make pictures that good.”

“That’s the technology of the ‘80s for you,” you joke, only for a flash and the sound of the camera going off to catch your attention. Whipping your head from the pictures on the counter to Steve, you find him grinning mischievously at you as he fans out a picture of his own, “Steve!”

“What? The photographer never gets to be photographed?” holding out the picture, you watch as the candid image of you sorting through the pictures comes into view, “Look at how beautiful you look.”

“Stop,” you can’t stop your giggles when he slides up into your personal space, positioning the camera like he’s going to take another picture, “you’ll waste the film.”

“It’s not a waste. I could use a few more pictures of you.”

Looking towards him skeptically, “You have pictures of me—”

“Yeah,” he sighs, brushing your hair out of his way to kiss  you against your temple, “I could always use more, though.”

“What you should use is that biology book that’s in the trunk of your car,” you turn to face him, leaning against the counter as he rolls his eyes at your cheeky changing of the subject. Backing up, he appears to be thinking, before he turns to go and sit on the edge of your bed, still picking at the camera in his hands.

“You said we wouldn’t study until after the shoot,” Steve mumbles, placing the camera to his side.

“Yeah, and I’m done. I got all the shots I think I need.”

“No, you haven’t,” he begins, and you know better than to play this game with him, when he gets that look in his eyes. You know whatever he’s got in his head can only be a bad idea, but you step forward anyway.

Arms crossed over your chest, it’s too fun to give into him to resist, “Oh? What makes you say that?”

“I was just… thinking…”

“That’s dangerous.”

“Shut up,” Steve chuckles, reaching out when you’re within arm’s reach to tug you closer by the loops in your jeans. “I was just thinking about, maybe… you letting me take some pictures of you. Just for me.”

“Just for you, huh?” you lean your hand on his shoulder, steading yourself from where you stand between his knees. “What kind of pictures?”

“Nothing too bad, just… the last picture I have of you is the one in my wallet, and it’s practically falling apart,” he sighs when you card your fingers into his hair, scraping your nails along his scalp. “How am I supposed to brag about my girl with a picture that looks like it’s been through a world war?”

“And who’s fault is that? I gave it to you brand new—”

“I know, I know, but,” and there are those wide eyes of his again, staring up at you with that pleading look that made you melt to his every whim just about, “I want to remember how you are now, when we’re alone together. Not just some professional photo— though, you look nice in those, too.”

Now, how were you supposed to say no to that?

“Okay, fine,” you sigh, knowing full well you’d let him take as many as he wanted to, “just one picture.” He could use the rest of your film up, if it meant seeing him grin at you like he was. Reloading the camera again is a small price to pay.

“Really?” when you nod, he urges you down into his lap with a firm tug at your hips, until you’re left straddling him. His hand finds the side of your neck, dragging your lips against his in a kiss that’s soft, slow, but laced with his hint of grateful excitement before he pulls away with, “Thank you.”

“Jeez, if that’s the thanks I get for letting you take a picture, I’ll let you take them more often,” you laugh, as he picks the camera off the comforter. “How do you want me to sit for the picture, Steve?”

“Hmm,” he hums thoughtfully, bringing the camera to his face to look at you through it, “that’s a good question. I think… I want you to take your sweater off for it.”

“It’s a cardigan,” you correct, reaching down to unbutton the garment.

“Whatever,” Steve lowers the camera, watching you toss the cardigan onto the footboard of your bed, where his sweater still hangs. It leaves you in the casual tank-top you’d been wearing beneath.

“Do you want to use the set?”

“No, no,” he brings the camera back up, still seemingly deciding on how he wants the picture, “I think I want you to sit on the bed.” Before you can move from his lap, he adds, “It would be more normal. I want it to be kind of natural.”

“Alrighty, then,” you shift, crawling off him and to the side in order to lay back on the bed, until he gets up. When you sit upright, Steve’s standing off the end of the bed with the camera, seemingly mimicking the way you had been lining up your shot earlier.

Noticing the strap of your tank top has slipped down your arm when you shifted positions, you go to push it back up, only for Steve’s voice to stop you, “Uh, can you leave it?”

“What?”

“It just makes you look comfortable,” is his only explanation, but you lower your hand all the same, leaving the strap hanging slightly off your shoulder.

“Is this good?” you ask, but there’s a tension in the air, and judging by the strain in his voice, he can feel it, too.

“Yeah, uh,” you watch as Steve swallows, “can you just, lay back a bit?” Doing as he says, you relax against the comforter a little, and he comes closer. His knees brush the edge of the bed between where your calves dangle off the edge of it. He takes another second, before the shutter goes off along with the flash, and then another picture is ejecting from the camera.

Steve fans it a little, while you raise your foot to press into his abdomen, “Did it turn out how you wanted?”

His eyes are a little glazed over, when he looks from the picture to you, as if he were lost in thought for just a moment, “Um, yeah, take a look.” You take the photo when he offers it to you, only to see yourself spread atop the bed, hair spread around your head like a halo, the strap of your tank top falling off your shoulder. The slight smile on your face only adds to how comfortable you look, and you have to admit, you don’t hate this picture of you.

Steve’s hand comes to your ankle, pushing your foot from his path as he kneels into the bed, settling over your body while you stare at the picture, “I did good, huh?”

“You’re quite the photographer, Mister Harrington,” you tease, casting your eyes upon him again to find that he’s so close. It takes only a shift of his body weight to lower himself enough to capture your lips with his, but while this kiss might be slow, it was far from soft. There’s an edge there, a need in the insistence of his lips against yours. The taste of his tongue scrambling your thoughts until you completely abandon the picture in your grip, leaving it somewhere beside you on the bed, in favor of the feeling of his skin.

Your hands snake up his sides, dragging him closer just as much as your legs do, while Steve kisses you senseless. His fingers splay beneath the end of your shirt, pushing until he can feel the soft press of your stomach, and inching upwards with each passing second. The last thing on either of your minds is studying for biology, and any chance you have at returning to the plan for the day is quickly slipping through your fingertips the more his body presses down into yours.

It crumbles away entirely when he pulls back just enough to utter a breathless, “I need you so bad right now,” before delving down your jaw, dragging his lips along the column of your throat.

“Steve—” you’re just as breathless, and you don’t know if it’s the few days you’ve spent apart, or the fact that you have both been so wound-up over school, but you need him just as badly.

“Please,” he groans against your throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses there that were undoubtedly going to leave a mark thanks to the fervor with which he’d descended upon you. You hardly mind. You’ve missed his marks on you, ever since the last ones had faded.

Your tank top is pushed over your chest, a fist in the fabric keeping it up while his other hand presses against your hardening nipples through the bralette you’d chosen to wear today. You hadn’t planned on going anywhere, and wanted to just remain comfortable, but that was backfiring on you now, because you can feel almost everything through the thin fabric.

As if arching into his touch wasn’t enough, Steve questions, “You want it, too, right?”

“Yeah, Steve,” catching him by the jaw to drag his head back up, you mewl against his lips, “I want you.”

His breath shudders from his lips before he draws you into another kiss. Taking his time to strip you down is nothing new, but the words he utters as he pushes his own pants from his hips are.

“I can’t stop thinking about how good you look on camera,” Steve groans, taking himself into his hand, stroking languidly as you shift beneath where he’s knelt himself over you on the bed. Fingers slipping down your thigh, he drags you a little closer, kissing the inside of your knee. You suck in a breath as he pushes himself along your core, spreading your wetness along his length, all the while with a heated look swirling in his dark eyes. When he finally positions himself against your entrance, your mouth falls open, sucking in a soft breath at the feeling of his familiar stretch, but it’s his words that set you on fire, “Now that’s a sight I’d like a picture of.”

It’s an off-handed comment, but now you can’t stop thinking about it. Drowning in the feeling of the slow, steady pace he sets, the idea has time to marinate in the back of your scrambled mind.

You’re reaching for him, brushing your fingertips against his abdomen as you moan his name, but Steve huffs, “Touch yourself,” as he drives his hips into yours once again.

Blinking up at him, you’re struck by the idea of how he would look if you took a picture of him at this very moment, and that thought is perhaps what sets the most foolish words on your tongue, “The camera— Get the camera.”

His hips stutter, and a choked sound comes from him, before he manages to form a sentence, “Are you serious?”

“Just for you,” you nod, and he abandons his grip on your thigh to reach for the polaroid that had wound up against the pillows.

His pace almost stills until he can get the camera in a good enough grip to lift it to his face, and that’s when his thrusts return in long, languid strokes that have you writhing beneath him with the assistance of your fingers pressing circles at your clit, “God, look at you.” His voice is heavy, wrapped around a moan of his own as he presses a hand down against your stomach, pushing your hips down onto his cock in a way that almost makes you cry out, “These are gonna’ turn out great.”

There’s a certain vulnerability to being in front of a camera, and stripped as bare as you were already, you’re practically raw, rubbed against him when the flash bursts upon your skin, camera shutter mixing with your moans as he fucks you slow into the mattress, “Steve, ah—!”

He abandons your stomach to take the photo that slips from the camera, fanning it until it develops enough for him to see the still image resulting from his touch, “Oh, look at how pretty you are.” He holds it out for you to see, but you barely manage a glimpse at yourself before he’s tossing the picture to the side, bringing the camera back up to his eyes.

“You’re— taking another?” you gasp, arching up into your own touch as he hits you deeper with the next roll of his hips.

“Yeah, that’s right. Just a few more—” Steve groans reaching to slip his hand down your thigh, pushing you open even more, “Can you spread your legs a little more— yeah, just like that—” and the shutter’s going off again, the image of you burned into the film as much as it will be in his memory.

You clench around him when the photograph falls onto your chest before he can reach for it, and you hope you’ll never forget the whimper that escapes him when he lowers the camera just slightly. A glimpse of teeth digging into his bottom lip to keep the sounds threatening to spill from him at bay, when he opens his eyes from the feeling, he sees you watching him in a way that seems to spell out your desire in every way words seem incapable of accomplishing right now.

All you can manage are your own sighs of pleasure, when his fingertips overlap yours to press into your clit. Lowering the camera to the bed, he refocuses on turning you into molten lava with every steady, sure stroke, building up the pleasure until it reached a boiling point. Lost somewhere between overstimulation and the peak of your desire, you’re both chasing this feeling and trying to draw it out for as long as it will last.

Your mouth is dry, so you lick your lips, thankful you’re able to think just barely enough to say, “I-It’s not fair. I won’t have any pictures of you.”

“You want some of me?” Steve repeats, as if he didn’t quite hear you right. For all he knows, he hallucinated it at this point, because he’s nearly out of his mind with how good you feel wrapped around him.

“I do,” you shift, using all the energy you have left to push him over, until you’re sitting on top of him. “It’s only fair.” Grinding your hips down into his, his hands catch against your thighs, aiding in your attempt at riding him with just a torturous pace as he had set. 

“Oh— Okay,” his head falls back against the bed as he moans, “Yeah— We gotta’ be fair.”

The camera’s in your hands as soon as you can reach for it, but you’re slower than he was. So lost in the feeling that it takes you more time to drag your mind back to the task at hand, until his lips part when you drop your hips down onto him a little quicker than before.

That’s the one.

The snap of the camera seems to only make him rock himself further into your thrusts, and you wind up quite pleased with the way your picture turned out, “Steve, look—” He squeezes your thighs before one of his hands releases you in favor of taking the picture by his index and middle finger, bringing it up to his face.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines at the sight, and you place your hand on his chest in order to get enough leverage to drag yourself almost completely off his cock, just to drop your hips again, and he nearly shouts at the feeling. You’re both shaking, and it shows in the next picture you take of him, but the blurriness is hardly obstructing the view of him, still looking at the photo you’d snapped moments before it.

He falls apart just seconds before you do, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as the photograph falls from his grip. Fingers carding through his own hair as you ride him through the brunt of it, desperately chasing your own pleasure at this point, until it detonates with the fullness that comes from his shuddering release.

Steve’s weak call of your name falls on deaf ears as you nearly collapse atop him. Shivering white-hot pleasure down your spine until it settles in the involuntary fluttering of your core around him. He supplies a few overstimulated, shallow thrusts as his arms wrap around you, holding you to him for dear life, until you both manage to float down from the devastation you’ve reaped upon each other.

You’re just glad you didn’t drop the camera, because you would hate to have broken it.

Instead, it lays against the mattress much like the rest of you, though you don’t think you’ll ever be able to use it again without thinking back to this moment. Steve’s fingers trace up your spine, as you feel him slowly beginning to even out his breathing beneath your chest.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs into your ear, and you giggle against him.

“Yeah…” moving off of him, you collapse into the bed, careful to avoid any stray polaroid pictures evidencing your love-making that were strewn along the bed.

Steve tilts his head to look at you, chuckling, “I think I should get a video camera for your next birthday—”

“Shut up.”

[de-bauchry]

Tense

?pairing; tokita ohma x gn reader!!

?warning; suggestive, teasinggg, mentions of hand kink, bruising, cut man reader!! nurse reader?? choking no gender implied

?a/n; this was gonna be like a male reader insert but I just idk I haven’t been describing any body parts or just implying gender in my writing lately and would rather leave that up to u guys until idk feel like assigning a gender to my writing?? 💀💀 I hope u guys enjoyyyyyy pls lmk if you want a pt 2 or not

tokita had quite a match today but nothing he couldn’t handle. despite red and purple blotches of bruises scattered all throughout his body, he was still an formidable force to be reckoned with. leaving the match with the opponent in broken bones, in need of a new face entirely, and more than likely unable ever to fight again. so compared to the other guy these bruises, aches, and pains were nothing; at least he was still able to have a fighting career.

but you on the other hand were not taking this lightly you knew that Ohma is used to pain and is pretty good at handling it, but you know once that adrenaline and excitement from the win washes away? the pain begins to settle in, and he’s not doing enough to keep his body in shape. as his cut man seeing him like this only upsets you everytime he came back with this oh-so-nonchalant attitude about his busted up body. his opponent did a great job of dealing a plethora of jabs at ohma’s shoulder, abdomen, and sides pretty good, a few cuts on his face here and there nothing too serious, but ohma’s shoulder and ribs were bound to breaking damage. they could snap in any minute if his movements are too rough or even just standing up too quickly or even stretching.

“hey. y’ gonna keep ogling me or are ya gonna patch these up or what?” tokita asks turning his head to look over to where your standing. arms folded and tut across your chest, staring him down with a laser focused look in your eye as you examined him, to ohma you looked good when you were focused like this.

“shut up, no one’s checking you out fool I’m looking at your wounds.” you insult whilst walking towards him. grabbing some wrapping bandage, an ice pack, some painkillers, and a wet rag from behind you before setting the items down beside him, and settling yourself between his legs, squat down in front of him. silence enveloped the infirmary room as you began tending to his wounds, splaying your hand out against his side where a major darkening bruise was, his abs gracing your fingertips. you huff in disappointment at the wound before looking up at him. “think you could sit up for me?”

tokita who was a bit surprised that you weren’t chewing his head off already, the emotion not apparent on his face figured he was in deep shit because of your silence, deciding to comply without pissing you off just in case. tokita rises up slowly, pain immediately striking his ribs from the action a grimace escaping him from doing so. he tried again to sit up from his hunched over position but the pressure you started putting onto the fracture had made him stop.

“I can’t sit up if your gonna break it.” he says through gritted teeth as he looks at you confused on what your getting out of furthering his pain. “im only trying to stop you. clearly you can’t sit up Mr. Dramatic.” you take your hand away from it gently replacing it with an icepack that you could tell immediately soothed him from the way he groaned. “you’ve gotta stop letting them hit you so much.” you were looking up at the fighter with genuine sincerity and concern as you had one of his free hands in your own.

tokita looked down averting your gaze, eyes landing on your thighs in deep thought as he was considering what you were saying. in honesty he wasn’t too happy with your words, he was an unstoppable man a wound meant nothing to him, a broken arm was like another day, a broken rib wasn’t nothing either so why was this one taking such a toll on him? he couldn’t feel the full affect that it was taking on him yet but the pain was definitely slowly starting to weigh in. hunched over he replaced your hand holding the ice pack with his own to keep it in place. “I know what I’m doing. the day I’m not the strongest will never come.” tokita replies with a strong affirmation, lifting his head to finally meet your gaze with his serious one.

“if you know what your doing then stop letting them hit you. you like to rile up the crowd and even your opponent by putting your body on the line, but if you keep doing this you won’t have a body to fight with! so take this seriously. take your health seriously. you can’t be the strongest if your bodies broken down.” you spoke with passion and conviction, giving him a little stare down of your own before going back to tending to him, grabbing his hand to look at his knuckles. they were bloody and a little swollen like you had anticipated, delicately wiping the blood off his knuckles treating him with subtlety.

your words had struck something within him, he didn’t think you cared so much and quite frankly he was at a loss for words, letting a comfortable silence take over as tokita just watched you take care of him now. eyes roaming over your features and the way you treated him with care. just how soft you were being while cleaning him up, the way he couldn’t exactly deny your statement, how brazen and challenging you are towards him, the way your eyebrows would knit in concentration, your pretty (e/c) eyes, the way your cool strong hands felt against his skin, the way this position with you between his legs made you quite vulnerable. ohma’s muscular form and height towering over your average one making you look much smaller than you happen to be.

you followed your wiping ministrations up toki’s arm to wipe away the previous fighters blood off him and all his wounds but you can’t say you weren’t getting distracted. it was something about the way toki’s veins were gorging from his hands up his arms that made things a bit “complicated” for you. who were you kidding it was undeniable that ohma was attractive, and you may have a bit of a hand kink because of him.

as you wipe along his knuckles, your movements had started to become more languid and precise as you went up his forearm and biceps, your eyes glossed with heat as you tried to focus, fixated and tracing along every vein that went along with your movement, drool starting to pool at the corner of your mouth which goes unnoticed by you a thick tension brewing in the air.

tokita caught onto you rather quickly though. watching the way you’ve started to pay extra attention and particularly to his hands or arms, how you were eating him up, and don’t think he didn’t notice you drooling. this made him wanna tease the oh-so-professional you by taking your hand and placing it on his rock hard chest, giving you a feel as he looks down at your doe eyed shook expression with his usual mean mug.

“don’t play coy now my perverted little nurse. help yourself”.

“I-I n-no this isn-“ you stammer over your words nervously as tokita’s strong hands cutting off your air supply had stopped your sentence, veins looking rather threatening now, lifting you from your previous sitting position now on your knees before him, faces inches apart. “huh? lying are we? I don’t really like dishonest people nurse.” a smug smirk spread across ohma’s face.

[primofate]

Genshin [Volleyball Team AU - Inspired by Haikyuu!] What it’s like to be their manager Headcanons

Note: I think a lot of people misunderstand the role of the manager XD It’s not that the whole team is dating you. It’s that the whole team treats you like their family/sister. So you’d better bet that all of them are gunna be hella protective of you XD

Scenario: What do you do for the team and what do they do for you? :D

Warnings: not proofread, fluffy, might have some swear words, platonic relationships

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Xiao, Tohma, reader as the team manager

Other works in the Volleyball Team AU Series: Click Here

Genshin Volleyball Team manager

It’s just fuckin’ chaos

On your first day you’re already bombarded with questions by Tartaglia and Kaeya

“So which class are you?” “What’s your height?” “Are you single?”

Captain Zhongli just cannot be bothered to reign them in anymore.

So Vice Captain Diluc does it and grabs their collars. “You idiots, you’re scaring her off!”

Possibly Kazuha and Tohma are the ones you really try to rely on, on your first few weeks.

So how do you gain the trust of your team? Let’s start with each player shall we?

#1 Zhongli (Captain/Wing Spiker/Ace)

Zhongli is just handsome and mature. He’s strict and needs to be the pillar of the team. 

You’re intimidated by him the first few weeks and he just seems...a little far. He’s always so focused that you can’t seem to catch a moment to just chat with him.

There’s a day where you notice that his form is a little off, you suspect that he hurt his wrist a little. 

You fidget uncomfortably in the gym as they practice, but finally turn to the coach “U-Umm... The captain is... I mean! I’m not sure, but... I think he needs to take a rest,”

The coach calls for someone to substitute Zhongli and suddenly asks you to check on him.

“Huh?! Me?!” the coach pushes you towards him, and Zhongli is just looking at you quizzically, you can practically see the question mark on his face.

“C-Captain, d-do you need some bandages on your wrist?”

Zhongli is taken aback, but silently puts his right wrist out for you to wrap.

Only when you’re done tending to it does he look you in the eye and ask.

“How did you know?”

“...Because I always watch, and all I can do is watch. If I can’t even spot that out then I’m not a very good manager am I?”

Zhongli has a newfound respect for you. He thought you were just a meek and shy thing sitting around and passing them balls but he feels his heart swell that someone like you is seriously watching over them.

#2 Diluc (Vice Captain/Wing Spiker/Defense Specialist)

Diluc is probably the second hardest to get along with or break the ice with.

But he gradually warms up to you when he notices that he’s always the first one you pass a towel and water bottle to.

You’re not doing that on purpose, it’s just him who always comes up first.

After a few days he deliberately goes to you faster cause he always wants to be the one to receive a water bottle and towel from you first. Secretly a puppy.

The moment he realized that you were reliable was when you stayed behind to help him practice when everyone else went home already. 

You didn’t let up in your constant praise of “nice receive”, “great spike!” and “that’s so cool!” 

He thinks he saw stars in your eyes at some point.

“Hey, Diluc, it’s getting late, let’s leave some energy for tomorrow, yeah?” he could tell from your mannerisms that you were tired too, but you tried not to let it show on your face and still cleaned up with him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then!” you wave but you’re stopped by a quick. “No,” from him. You tilt your head in wonder and he just looks at you as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“It’s late, I’ll walk you home,”

#3 Kaeya (Middle Blocker)

You don’t have to impress this guy, anyone of the female gender impresses him.

lol jk

safe to say it’s not difficult to befriend Kaeya, just bring him a cheering squad and some food.

all jokes aside the way to this guy’s heart is through his stomach.

He’s not a particularly hungry person but there’s this one time he forgot to bring lunch. He was running late, or something of that sort, honestly not something new for him.

He ALSO didn’t bring money so he couldn’t eat food from the cafeteria.

Ask his friends for money you say? Tartaglia would go, “Haha no way!” Albedo would go, “Let this be a lesson for you,” his brother would go “Serves you right,”

By club time he’s famished and dramatic. “Guys, go on without me, this is as far as I go,” as he sprawls on the gym floor.

You ask if he’s okay and he doesn’t answer so Diluc is the one that answers for him. “He forgot his lunch, as always,”

You make a sound of understanding and the next thing you know you’re taking out a lunch box and Kaeya has lifted his head up, sensing food.

“I packed onigiri for everyone today, actually... In case someone was hungry. It’s not much but--”

Kaeya comes alive from the dead and clutches your hands to his chest. “Manager you really are an angel,”

Diluc jump kicks him away from you.

#4 Albedo (Setter)

You also don’t know how to approach this guy

He always looks mad or stoic or something. Like he’s always thinking about something.

He low key actually is always thinking about play strategies and how to set the ball better for his teammates.

You really do think he works so hard while the game is going on, so you decide to help him out a little bit.

You watch a few more of their games and somehow come up with a list of what kinds of sets are better for each different spiker in the team.

There’s surprise in his eyes when you pass the document to him and modestly exclaim “...but, it might not be accurate, since I’m not that experienced,”

He still nods and says “...It’s the thought that counts,” 

When he does read your report and try the techniques out he notices that it does hold some merit in it

Is amazed like how Zhongli is amazed. He thought you were just there to hand them bottles and cheer for them but he had never been so wrong as to what a manager’s role is.

Will trust you enough to ask you about his set performance.  

Will sometimes slam Kaeya with an insult. “Kaeya, your spike sense is horrid, Y/N can read the moves better than you,”

#5 Tartaglia (Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

It’s not that he has a hard time trusting people but let’s just say he has the tendency to make you feel like he likes you but then he actually does that to everyone.

For example: He’ll throw compliments like “Oh that’s amazing Y/N!” but then back in the classroom you’ll hear him say “Oh that’s amazing!” to, like, every other person. 

That kinda disappoints you cause then the comment doesn’t really hold that much meaning to it if he keeps on saying it to others too.

He encounters a crisis mid year because this guy is just... he struggles with his grades. 

Captain Zhongli has told him he can’t play volleyball if he fails even one subject.

This boy is panicking and has semi-accepted this is the end of his volleyball career.

So you offer to study with him and he’s legit stoked.

Intensive and strict study sessions commence. Note taking, pop quizzes, surprise questions and even sudden random calls from you wherein you ask him a question and he has to answer within 5 seconds.

You’ve pulled all the study techniques you know here, this man better pass everything.

Welp, he still fails History....but since he worked so hard Captain Zhongli excuses it.

He’s so happy that he can’t hold back the stupidly wide smile on his face. He turns to you and for the very very first time in months, he bows and THANKS you.

You realize that he’s never thanked you before. Not even when you pass him water bottles or towels. 

You consider it a win, getting rare and sincere appreciation from him.

#6 Kazuha (Decoy/Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

One of the easiest to get along with but at the same time, he’s so mature that you feel like you’re not even in the same age range as him.

Definitely someone you can count on though, so you ask him many questions on the first week.

Still, it’s one of those things where you can kind of talk to him but there’s still a wall between you two.

One day while walking around in school there were these boys who were commenting about his height, and questioning his abilities as a volleyball team member.

You didn’t really think much about it when you speak up, “But he’s a really good middle blocker and spiker,” 

Those boys look at you weirdly and you realize that you’ve unconsciously spoken up. So you hurriedly walk away.

Little did you know that Kazuha was in some secret corner and heard the whole thing.

Just like that, the next day, it seems as if the wall between you two was gone, and you’re able to talk freely.

That, and he seemed to like asking you to help him practice his spikes and throw balls for him now.

#7 Xiao (Libero)

is deceivingly easy to get along with. Just has a rough exterior but is actually a softie if you squint.

You know this because there are subtle things he does. 

He doesn’t speak to you much but then he would be the one picking up the balls with you, or sometimes there’s magically a new set of clean towels on the bench that you don’t remember taking out from the storage room.

This guy is passionate for the game, so he really beats himself up when he isn’t able to receive a ball during actual games.

You worry about his mentality sometimes. I mean, it’s a team game, it’s not like he alone can save the whole game

So you talk to him about it the other day

“You’re already a really good libero Xiao, I mean... I’m not saying you should stop practicing but you don’t have to feel so bad...” you pause because this doesn’t feel like the message you want to convey

“Sorry, what I mean is... You CAN feel bad, but share the burden with your team, you know?”

He knows what you’re saying and contemplates it for a while. He knows that his team has his back, but sometimes just needs reminder about it.

He looks at you and asks, “...Can I share the burden with you too?”

You blink “Huh?”

“You said I can share the burden with my team, but can I share it with you too?”

There is a blush on his cheeks at this point.

“Oh, yea! Of course! I don’t play but I’m still part of the team you know!”

Ever since then, during games, if he feels a little frustrated he’d glance at you on the bench and you’d give him a thumbs up for a job well done.

#8 Tohma (Pinch Server/Middle Blocker)

You’re like bffs the moment you see each other

lol jk

You’re still awkward with him the first few days cause that’s just how first meetings are.

But he is very easy to talk to and always makes you feel at ease

Will always be the one to ask how you are if you need any help or if class was okay in general

Seems like the type of person to care more about others than himself

So he’s surprised when you come into the gym and you beat him to asking his usual questions.

“Tohma, how are you today? Did you have a proper lunch?”

“Tohma, are you getting tired? Want some water?”

“Tohma, how was class today?”

All the other members of the team turn to look at the two of you, thinking ‘Why does Tohma get extra attention?’ 

Tohma certainly doesn’t get extra attention you just TALK to him more. The other members deadass are also getting cared for by you, just in different ways.

This boy has some insecurities though, when it comes to playing the game. He hasn’t been in it for long so he’s the least experienced and that gets to him sometimes.

“Oh, really? But you play really well! I couldn’t tell that you’re new” 

His serves are really amazing though.

“Also! You always score points for us with the serves. Sometimes, your serves are my favourite part of the game!”

Has practiced extra hard so as not to let you down.

Masterlist

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[flowerywhispers]

| | Just a tad bit pathetic. Sweet at times, but pathetic | |

Character(s): White star/ Cale Barrow

TW: Kidnapping, death/murder mention, Cale no 2 being a pathetic little dude

Genre: Fluff

Notes: Gender neutral MC || I love how pathetic this wretched man is. It's hilarious so I'll give you some weird little pathetic dude fluff first before I decide to throw the most fucked up thing I can write about this man at you guys <3 This is more of a taster thing to make sure that I didn't fuck up his characterisation or have him too ooc. He probably is ooc though. It's been a while since I last read tcf 💀 || Tagging @calehenituse-brainrot for this ridiculous fellow

You had been kidnapped somewhere along the line. Apparently people had thought that you had some kind of 'special relationship' with Cale - which was true if you considered trying to help him achieve his slacker life using your knowledge of the events that would unravel to be a special relationship. White star, or Cale number 2 as you liked to call him to bother him, thought to take advantage of this. It was a smart plan if you didn't take into account that you did not in fact have a special relationship with Cale Henituse and that it would be all too soon before everyone showed up ready to kill him.

You knew more about white star than he knew about himself at this point. There was still a while before he finally figured everything out so being kidnapped by him wasn't too worrying especially considering that everything that he did at any given point in the novel while interacting with Cale was hilarious. How could someone like him possibly be threatening when he was the equivalent of an exhausted and mildly deranged college student.

He even looked the part with shaggy red hair that was splayed across your lap as he slept, light brown eyes hidden behind his eyelids and a complexion that made him seem like he'd never seen the sun. A feature of his that made the light flush off his cheeks all too noticeable. For someone who was supposed to be a threat, he was surprisingly relaxed when he was with you and not obsessing over the threat from the gods that he thought Cale to be.

He was just strange and a tad bit obsessive and pathetic.

Maybe it was the fact that you weren't scared to talk back to him, insults that had him fuming with no retort as his cheeks reddened with his annoyance and teasing remarks that had him pulling his mask back over his face to which you would respond with telling him that he looked better without it. There was always a stutter that hitched his voice whenever you would say something along those lines.

How cute he was when he got flustered. It was almost like he liked getting bullied if it was by you. He tried so hard to intimidate you but there was really no way that he would be successful when you already knew how ridiculous he could be.

You sighed affectionately as you brushed your hand through his hair while your other hand cradled the side of his face. How you managed to tolerate such a man was beyond you but you had to admit that it was kind of nice. Nice that he let you close and let you care about him despite the fact that everyone that loved him and visa versa was doomed to die as a result or whatever which you seemed to somehow be immune to.

While you were thankful of course that you didn't die, it was nice that you could have him close like this as much as he liked you being close.

Do not repost or claim. Only reblog 💗

[k9rage]

Just Wanna Have Fun (1/?)

Aaron/Smartass/Gavin, Teen (subject to change), 1.7k

Tags: Gavin/Freelancer background relationship, African-American Aaron, Afrolatinx Gavin, Gender-neutral listener, Polyamorous character, Suggestive themes, Friends with benefits to lovers

Ao3 link

"What about him?"

"No."

"Maybe her? She seems cute." 

"No," Aaron sighs again, for what seems to be the thirtieth time in this hour. 

Frankly, Smartass doesn't see how looking at pictures of hot people for a potential threesome on Tinder isn't fun, but this is still Aaron they're talking about. He's happiest wearing khaki shorts and working so much that he has perpetual eye bags. 

"Maybe this guy? He's got a dog."

Predictably, it earns them a derisive noise. "Why do you care about the dog if we'd only be fucking him anyways?" He asks, a little scathing. 

They pout, leaning against their boyfriend's shoulder. "Men that are good with animals are hot, Aaron." A pause, then "so…maybe on the guy with the dog?"

"No, Smartass," he grumbles, eyebrows pulled into his familiar frown. "I don't get what the appeal of this is. It's not like our sex life is any shortage of kinky on its own," he points out. 

He is right. The two of them have a thriving sex life, considering their job schedules, and he's a lot more kinky than he let on initially. At first, it had been a joke to poke at him and watch him come up with comebacks but (unfortunately for Aaron) with time, their interest in the idea had only grown with a vengeance. 

"It's not about that," they reply, fondly exasperated, "it's a dynamic change. Trying some stuff out we can't try with just two people, you know?" 

He stares, deadpan, as if to answer no, I don't know. 

"If you're actually uncomfortable with it, I'll stop bringing it up, Aaron. It's just for fun." Smartass is uncharacteristically serious with that, and takes the time to glance over at him for several long moments.

"I didn't say I was uncomfortable with it," he defends, finally pushing his laptop away and setting it on the coffee table in front of them. 

Smartass gets a little, impish grin on their face at that. So he doesn't mind, then. Nice.

"Are you?" They reply, cocking an eyebrow over at him.

He scowls and crosses his arms, appropriately caught. "No," he replies finally, sounding mulish that he has to admit that aloud. 

"Perfect!" they reply, comically cheery, "then I'll keep looking."

-

They find him by pure chance. It'd been late, scrolling absently through hookup apps they had already combed through and finding nothing but men with badly taken mirror selfies or women who aren't really either of their types.

After swiping past pictures of a blonde man with photos of himself fishing, Smartass finds the first one that stirs both a flicker of interest and seems like he'd be Aaron's type too, though they strongly doubt he'd admit it aloud. 

"Aaron, look."

He hums in acknowledgement, eyes that have been thus far trained on his laptop finally torn away from his work to glance their way. 

"What do you think about him? He's handsome. Seems like he lives nearby too."

They watch Aaron's dark eyes stare for several long moments as they extend their phone, showing the photograph of the man making certifiable heart eyes at the camera and drinking from a Big Gulp cup. He has an air of sensuality about him that feels infectious even through the screen, right down to the way his hand wraps around the cup he's holding. 

Aaron stares, then stares a bit longer.

"What about him, Aaron?" They ask, eyebrows raised suggestively.

He startles, seeming to realize he's been staring too long, and looks away again. His cheeks burn hot and he finally grumbles out "...Maybe."

They're counting it as a win, and swipe right.

-

The guy's nice. Very suggestive, but not disrespectful. He says his name is Gavin, and the two trade quips and innuendos over the dating app for a couple of weeks before deciding to meet in person at a local coffee shop. 

Aaron is much less lackluster than he was before about the concept of meeting Gavin- eager, even, at the prospect of it. He even dresses down a little, trading the usual khakis with a pair of nice jeans. They even get to unbutton his shirt a few extra buttons at the top, showing a sliver of dark skin off. 

The coffee shop they meet at is smaller, a little hole in the wall that Aaron eventually recommended to them. The two frequent enough to already have orders they default to- a tea for them and a latte for Aaron. 

It's quieter than usual, with soft music over the speakers as the two settle in a spot at the corner and wait for Gavin to arrive. When he does, it's almost immediately obvious, and somewhat comical to watch both the baristas and the few other customers in the shop covertly trying to check him out. 

They're not alone either- Aaron is eying him the same way he used to eye Smartass at work when they wore an especially tight shirt, and Smartass can't quite tear their eyes away from him either. Suddenly they feel vastly outclassed, despite the fact that he doesn't seem to be very dressed up himself. 

He's a darker skinned man with short, curly black hair, and eyes that seem too pink for them not to be contacts. Gavin is that sort of effortlessly beautiful that would be intimidating to approach, with his well-kept curls and dark skin only half hidden because of the sheer, dark shirt he's wearing. The high-waisted pants make him look a little taller, but he's still on the smaller side, especially when compared with Aaron.

Gavin catches their eye and gives them a smile that seems so seductive it seems out of place in a coffee shop, giving a small wave as he waits to pick up his drink before joining the two of them. 

"Are you still okay with this, Aaron? I know we tease each other, but it's okay if you're not."

He shakes his head a little bit, “Getting cold feet, Smartass?” he retorts with enough warmth in his tone to know he’s mostly joking.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Gavin sits down across from the two of them, carrying a drink that looks almost sickly sweet. It must be something he likes though, because he takes a sip of it and smiles, leaning back in his chair just enough to look like he’s lounging. 

“It is very nice to finally meet you two,” Gavin says, dragging the words out suggestively. He does seem to be genuinely pleased though, raking his eyes over the two of them so obviously that it’s hard not to feel flattered when he leans in across the table and points one finger at Aaron.

“Your partner?”

They nod, unsure of how he’ll take that. They discussed it, of course, but people on dating apps can have flawed ideas of potential relationships at times. His smirk turns into a more genuine smile that shows a single snaggletooth on one side of his lip and he extends his hand across the table to shake Aaron’s hand.

“It’s good to meet you,” Aaron says, all instinctual professionalism trying to cover his nerves.

“Oh trust me, the pleasure is all mine,” Gavin purrs, and they can feel their cheeks burn with the force of the flush that his tone brings. This guy is either really laying on the charm or he's like this all the time, and it's hard to tell which. 

Gavin takes a sip of his drink, and Smartass shoots Aaron a smug grin when they catch him staring at the smooth line of Gavin's throat as he drinks. He glares back grumpily, unwilling to concede that he's enjoying himself.

"Before we go any further," Gavin says, setting his drink down with a more serious expression on his face. "I have a partner myself already too. Polyamorous, though I kind of got the impression you two were looking for something a little less permanent. If having a partner is an issue for you two, say the word and we can go our separate ways." 

Smartass glances at Aaron, who quietly shakes his head. "It's not an issue, I don't care about that as long as they know you're doing this," Aaron replies, taking a sip of his latte. 

"It would be kind of hypocritical to expect you to fly solo just because we might fuck," Smartass says, already smiling in amusement at how Aaron glares when they say it aloud. 

Gavin hums, sipping his drink thoughtfully for several long moments. "Do you want a one time thing or a… repeat performance?" He asks, those unnaturally bright eyes drinking them both in.

They feel hot under the collar, and are rapidly regretting their choice to wear layers. 

"We hadn't really decided, frankly. Can we play that by ear?"

He leers, eyelids half lidded and seductive as he leans back the slightest bit in his chair, "Oh, so I should impress you? I'm always interested in a good challenge. Particularly one that's so devilishly attractive."

His eyes catch Aaron's, and they watch him rub at the back of his neck beneath his dreads in that way they eventually learned was nervous. They drift a hand over to squeeze his own and fall into a conversation with Gavin absolutely chock full of innuendo and enough suggestion to make Aaron look vaguely embarrassed by the two of you. 

"So, what exactly are you looking for?" Gavin asks, painted nails trailing swirls absently over the tabletop. "I'm more than happy to follow your lead, believe me. I get the sense you're… inexperienced, with this kind of play at least." He drags out the syllables suggestively and drags his eyes over the two of them so noticeably it almost feels physical. 

Smartass glances between the two men and hums, leaning forward across the table to speak like it's a secret between the three of them. "We can feel things out as we go," they promise, "but the desire to touch goes both ways for us, Gavin."

"You're not going to be uncomfortable with me touching your partner?" He asks, no judgement in his tone.

Aaron shakes his head with a low laugh, pulling Smartass against his side, "No, they're not prone to jealousy if that's what you're asking. Actually, I imagine you'll enjoy it, Smartass." 

Gavin laughs brightly and nods in understanding. "I can work with that."

[chaos-burst]

one way or another (i’m gonna get you)

Dorian has a problem.

That problem is currently drunk off his ass and trying to balance one of Opal’s daggers on the tip of his nose. Of course he’s failing miserably, hitting himself in the eye with the blunt end twice thus far and maybe Dorian shouldn’t chuckle about it, but Dariax just keeps trying as Opal and Fearne edge him on.

“If you’re not careful you’ll stab your own eye out”, Orym says. He’s still nursing the same beer he started drinking an hour ago, probably to stay sober enough to stop any shenanigans that go too far.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, buddy. That already happened to me, like, three times, and I just healed it back together. No big deal.”

Dorian can see that Orym is at a loss for words.

“Dorian, do you think I can do it?”, Dariax calls over to him where he’s sitting, holding his lute and enjoying the warm evening breeze.

“Sure, Dariax. I’ll write a song about you if you do”, he says with an amused smile. Dorian tries to keep his smile from widening as Dariax beams at him and tries even harder.

All his life Dorian has been taught to be proper and well behaved—maybe that is why he feels drawn towards—well. Towards the group. The group that Dariax is also a part of and that Dorian definitely doesn’t feel drawn towards more than any of the others.

He starts moving his fingers mindlessly over the strings of his lute as Dariax stumbles backwards, falls over Opal’s outstretched legs and lands in her lap with the dagger clattering to the ground in front of them.

Dorian thinks about Dariax sitting on his lap, then he almost chokes on his own spit because so far Dariax hasn’t done anything even remotely appealing or attractive. He’s had shit on his beard, piss on his hands, he’s dirty and loud and so obnoxious.

But when he told Dorian that he’s the handsome one and that he’s just good at talking to people and whether Dorian wants some tips from him—Dorian was tempted. For a split second, he was thinking about Dariax offering to teach him how to flirt.

Because Dorian might be aware that he’s handsome, but he has exactly zero idea about how to flirt with people.

“Hey, Dorian! Do I still get a song?”, Dariax shouts, still half sitting in Opal’s lap.

“Sure, buddy. I’ll write you a song.”

“Cool! It’s a promise!”, Dariax says, thumbs up, a big grin on his handsome face.

There, Dorian can admit it.

Dariax is handsome. They’re all handsome. It’s really no big deal. Not at all.

Dorian tries not to think about what his parents would say about Dariax, because it’s completely irrelevant. It’s not like his parents will meet his friends, and especially not Dariax. Maybe he should go to bed and hope that come the next morning his circling thoughts will have stopped.

“Are you working on the song?”

Dorian blinks and turns his head, only to come face to face with Dariax who managed to get up from Opal’s lap and is now sitting right next to him, leaning way into Dorian’s personal space.

Dariax smells like ten different kinds of alcohol, leather and thankfully no bodily fluids, which is definitely an improvement. Dorian wishes that the fact that he’s seen this man with shit on his beard would dissuade his heart from beating a little faster every time Dariax grins at him.

Sadly his heart doesn’t care.

Neither does his stomach, which is currently doing all kinds of complicated gymnastics since Dariax invaded Dorian’s personal space.

“No. I don’t think I can concentrate in here while all that is going on”, Dorian says and gestures towards Opal who is now teaching Fearne how to do body shots.

“Aw, man. Can you play something? Something...hm. Something cool.”

“All my songs are cool, thank you very much!”

Dariax laughs.

“Yeah, okay, you’re not wrong there. You have a really beautiful voice, buddy. No wonder that goliath lady fell in love with you after like, three minutes!”

Dorian feels something that reminds him a lot of the feeling he gets when he’s falling or misses a step on some stairs. His heart starts doing an offensive little tumble and he clears his throat a little too loud as he leans out of Dariax’ space and clutches his lute as if his life depends on it.

“I don’t think I would know what to do if someone actually fell in love with me”, Dorian says with an embarrassingly shrill laugh and a second after the words have left his mouth he regrets them already.

“Aw, buddy, I told you—I can totally teach you a few tricks, you know? Just show you how to get real popular with the ladies. Or gents. Or people in general”, Dariax says and winks at him.

Dorian wishes he could turn into thin air. His cheeks feel very hot.

“I—uh. I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s not like I really have the time—“

Dariax snorts and raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, come on, Dorian. We’re just hanging out, right? If you wanna get laid, we have plenty of time for that. You should just relax a little more. Okay, so. What’s your type?”

Dorian stares at Dariax for almost thirty seconds before he clears his throat again.

“Uh. I—don’t. Well. Adventurous. Maybe—uh. Maybe brunettes?”

“Adventurous brunettes? That’s pretty vague, buddy. Just saying. Wait a second!”

Dariax leans closer again and puts his hand on Dorian’s shoulder. Then he does a terrible shout-whisper into Dorian’s ear that shouldn’t give him goosebumps but, fuck, it definitely does.

“Are you into Orym?”

Dorian blinks and turns his head to stare at Dariax who looks as if he just found out an earth-shattering secret through some careful investigation.

“N—no! No, he’s not. I mean, Orym is—fine? I don’t, uh—what I meant to say is... I don’t really know what my type is”, he ends lamely.

Of course Dariax feels the need to put an arm around Dorian now.

“Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll get you laid in no time. You have a pretty face and voice and all that, pretty sure that’ll go easy peasy.”

“That’s really not—“

“Hey guys, what are you whispering about?”, Opal shouts.

“We’re trying to figure out what Dorian’s type is to get him laid!”, Dariax shouts back.

“No, that’s not—“

“Ohh! Interesting! You don’t have a type? Did you never have a relationship before? Wait—are you like, a virgin?”

Dorian abruptly gets up from his chair. He’s definitely not drunk enough for this.

“I’m going to bed”, he says and leaves the room in a hurry, ignoring the disappointed shouts of his new friends following him outside.

*

Dorian hopes that his friends have forgotten the whole thing about supposedly getting him laid and about how Dariax intends to teach him flirting. But unfortunately the universe decides to not do him this favor.

Suddenly, every remotely attractive person they pass invokes a whole litany of questions.

Opal, Fearne and Dariax want to know everything. Which height, body-type, eye color, temperament, and style of clothing does he like? Does he prefer any genders to others? On six different occasions, Dariax tries to wingman Dorian into asking random strangers on dates.

Dorian is so desperate that he considers just telling them that he actually has someone back home, just so they will leave him alone.

It wouldn’t be the first lie he told.

Dorian feels a pang of guilt for lying about his name to these people who keep fighting alongside him.

Orym, bless his soul, is the only person who doesn’t partake in these interrogations and at some point, after Opal had asked Dorian if he was more into “tits or asses” Orym had quietly stated that “he deserves his privacy, you guys”.

Dorian has no idea if he’s a “tits or asses” kinda guy.

But Dorian just can’t stop thinking about the way Dariax’ voice sounded when it lilted “Man, you have the prettiest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen” the last time they were drunk.

It seems weirdly typical and ridiculous that Dorian has to have his first crush on the most chaotic man he ever met.

Dorian wishes he could forget about those damn words, just like everything that happened in their first week.

“You know”, Orym says to him two nights after that cursed conversation as they’re making their way further south towards Byroden, “if you told them to stop in earnest, I think they would respect that.”

The landscape is a carpet of green, sloping hills, rolling fields that lie bare now that winter is closing in around them. The sky is blue and cloudless and as they talk their breath puffs up in front of their faces and vanishes shortly after.

Dorian looks at Orym and then pointedly turns his gaze at Opal and Dariax, who started making a list of their findings regarding Dorian’s type.

“You sure?”, he says with one eyebrow raised.

Orym looks at least as pained as Dorian feels right now.

“I see your point. But they’re not—you know. Not bad people, I guess. I don’t think they want to hurt you.”

“Well, they’re not hurting me, they’re annoying me to death!”

Orym pats him on the back in a way that is so pitiful, Dorian can hardly take it.

“I wouldn’t usually encourage lying, but maybe you could just make up a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or—“

“What if I just tell them that you’re my type”, Dorian interrupts and Orym blinks at him.

“Uh—“

“No offense, you’re not. Not that you’re not handsome or anything, I just. Well—“

“It’s fine”, Orym says with a snort and shakes his head with a disbelieving smile. “You don’t have to fuss about it. You’re also very handsome but not my type.”

Dorian tries not to be offended after the last kick to his ego in Gilmore’s shop and clears his throat.

“Okay, so. What about it? Will you be my—I don’t know. My fake boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Orym, I’m desperate here!”

“I will not be swept up in all of that. I still think you should just try to talk to them.”

Dorian feels betrayed and huffs, but he doesn’t press the issue any further. It’s probably going to be fine, he thinks. That is, until Dariax walks up to him, grins up at him cheekily and bumps his elbow into Dorian’s side.

“So. Are you finally ready to admit it?”, Dariax asks.

There is a glint in his eyes that Dorian can’t quite read.

“Admit what?”, he asks, already dreading the answer.

“That you have the hots for Orym!”

Dorian stares down at Dariax, the man he, so, so very unfortunately has “the hots for” and sighs deeply.

“You caught me”, he says with a gravelly voice. “I have the hots for Orym.”

“I knew it!”, Dariax shouts, then catches himself and turns his voice into a whisper instead. “I fucking knew it!”

Dorian massages his temple.

Maybe becoming an adventurer was a terrible idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. He could make a name for himself somewhere else. The Menagerie coast is supposed to be lovely all year around.

“Okay, don’t worry, buddy. I gotcha. I’ll keep your secret, won’t even tell the girls at all. And you know what, because we’re such great friends I have a special offer just for you”, Dariax says and leans in even closer to Dorian, who has to lean down significantly.

“And what offer is that?”, Dorian asks with a sigh, resigning himself to his fate. At least Orym knows that Dorian isn’t actually attracted to him, so, he thinks, this can’t possibly get any worse.

“I should totally be your fake boyfriend so you can make him jealous.”

Dorian stares at Dariax.

Dariax stares back with the proudest grin on his handsome face.

The universe is trying to punish him. For whatever reason, it must have decided to make Dorian the butt of a cosmic joke. That’s the only explanation for all of this.

“I don’t think that’s—“

“It’s perfect! Don’t worry, I have experience with this sort of stuff, just lemme handle this.”

Dariax winks at Dorian and then grabs his hand to intertwine their fingers.

“Hey guys”, he calls as he pulls Dorian along who follows helplessly, his heart stumbling in his chest as his consciousness zooms in on the feeling of Dariax’ hand in his, “guess what. I should’ve clocked it all along, but of course it makes perfect sense! Check it out!”

And as Orym, Opal and Fearne turn their heads, Dariax raises their intertwined fingers and beams at the others.

“Wait…”, Orym starts slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion, “what…?”

“Too late, Orym. He’s my boyfriend now”, Dariax says and Dorian wishes that the wind would just pick him up and carry him away.

*

Dorian has to say something.

He can’t, under any circumstances, keep this up.

He is sitting—and gods, his heart is beating so terribly fast—on Dariax’ lap.

Dariax had insisted on it and now his muscular arms are wound around Dorian’s waist as if this is the most normal thing in the world. For someone who doesn’t actually have to breathe to survive, Dorian feels a little bit like he’s suffocating from the staccato inside his rib cage.

They made camp close to a rock formation that, according to Fearne, looks like a pig with wings. The night smells of snow, but Dorian feels hot despite the cold.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He knows it even less when Dariax’ hand finds one of his and just casually starts rubbing circles into the back of his hand with a thumb. Dorian can feel Orym’s eyes on them and sadly that edges Dariax on even more because he thinks his plan is working.

“You know”, Dariax says and sounds way too casual about it, “I can’t believe how lucky I got. Pretty sure you’re the most beautiful person I’ve been with so far, Dorian.”

“I—uh”, Dorian says, then somehow forgets how to speak. His cheeks feel incredibly hot even though he doesn’t sit remotely close to the fire.

Orym cocks his head and suddenly his eyes turn a little too wide for Dorian’s tastes.

Dorian doesn’t want anyone to understand anything about this disaster.

“Well, I would certainly love a boyfriend who tells me nice things like that”, Opal sighs dreamily. “Or—you know. Maybe a girlfriend. Who knows. I certainly don’t.”

She laughs a little too shrilly but Dorian doesn’t have the mental capacity to think about it anymore because a tingling sensation is running through his body and crawling along the underside of his skin as Dariax’ fingers just keep on gently, way too gently, drawing nonsensical symbols and circles on Dorian’s hand.

“Well, I just know what’s good. I make a great boyfriend”, Dariax announces with a smug undertone to his voice. The sad thing is that Dorian can’t even disagree.

So far, Dariax has been nothing but—well. There is no other word for it. Gentle and accommodating. He also started flirting with Dorian and his flirting only ever got tasteless twice during the last twenty-four hours.

He has offered to carry stuff for Dorian, held his hand, given him way too many compliments for Dorian’s poor heart to handle, helped him climb over some rocks and purposefully took a hit for Dorian in combat earlier today while shouting “Not my boyfriend, you ash-hole!”.

If someone had told him that Dariax makes good boyfriend material, Dorian would have scoffed at them.

But now.

Well.

Now he’s in even deeper shit, because this doesn’t help his feelings at all. It does the exact opposite of helping.

Gods, Dorian wishes he could kiss him.

“Well, I am certainly—uh. Happy? For you two”, Orym says with a pointed look at Dorian. Dorian tries to tell Orym that this wasn’t his idea with his eyes alone, that this is the worst, that Dorian definitely needs saving, but he doesn’t think anything gets across because the moment that Orym says that and looks at Dorian, Dariax seems to decide that he can’t have Orym looking at Dorian like that.

Dorian makes an embarrassing screeching sound as he is dipped backwards on Dariax’ lap. There is a very handsome, dwarven face with glinting eyes right in front of his when he opens his eyes again.

“Just go along”, Dariax whispers and before Dorian can protest or even just try to catch up with what’s happening, there are dry, warm lips pressed against his mouth and Dariax is closing his eyes.

Dorian’s brain is blank for a few seconds, then it kicks into overdrive, much like his heart that seems eager to jump right out of his chest and into the campfire. Dorian can’t fault it, because he, too, would love to jump into the campfire, never to be seen again.

Dariax is holding him with one arm while his other hand is resting on Dorian’s cheeks where Dariax’ thumb starts rubbing circles again as he kisses Dorian.

Dorian wants to run away.

He wants to kiss back.

He wants this to be real.

Dariax doesn’t actually want to kiss him. He only does it because he’s pretending, there is nothing real about any of this, no matter how nice and exciting his warm lips feel against Dorian’s.

Dorian pushes him away, clambers up from his position, trying very hard not to fall as he stands up, and steps away from Dariax hastily.

“I—ah. I need to. Pee. Yes. Pee. I’ll be—uh. Later!”

And he walks as fast as he can without breaking into a run.

His lips are still burning after he stops walking without even seeing where he’s going. It’s dumb. All of this is so incredibly dumb.

Beautiful eyes, beautiful voice, beautiful person.

Dariax really has to stop saying these things.

It’s already enough that Dorian developed this stupid crush after such a short amount of time on the road. It’s stupid that it had to be Dariax of all people—couldn’t it have been someone reasonable? Like Orym?

Couldn’t it just have been no one? Or a nice, noble lady that he impressed with his songs and good looks?

No.

He’s standing in the middle of nowhere, his heart beating rapidly in his chest with no clue where he even is or what he’s doing. The trees around him are leafless and bare, stretching towards the dark sky like skeletal silhouettes. Dorian doesn't know what to do.

Dariax kissed him.

He had his first kiss with a complete and utter maniac of a person. His lips are still tingling and gods, he wants to kiss him again and again and again—

“Dorian! Doriaaan!”

Dorian turns around and wipes at his face that feels weirdly wet.

Gods, he hates everything and everyone right now.

Dariax comes to a halt in front of him, his breath coming quickly and holding his compass rose.

“Okay—wow. Your legs. Are so. Long. You’re so. Fucking fast”, Dariax huffs and puts his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

Dorian looks at him and can’t decide whether he wants to kick Dariax in the shin or just run away further.

“So, uh—sorry. I got a little carried away and I kinda—uh. It was brought to my attention that it wasn’t very cool of me to just kiss you without asking if that’s okay with you. So—uh. Really sorry about that, shoulda thought about that before I—uh. You know.”

Dariax scratches the back of his head as he looks down at Dorian’s left knee.

“It’s—well. Yeah, I suppose a little warning would have been nice. It’s—uh.”

Dorian stops and wipes at his face again and when he looks back up Dariax is studying him, his gaze intense and uncharacteristically serious.

“Wait—wait a second. Was that your first kiss?”

“No! I mean. Yes! Sort of! Maybe!”

Dariax gapes and Dorian wishes the earth could swallow him up whole.

“Oh fuck, buddy, man, that’s. I’m really sorry, I didn’t—damn. I really fucked that one up, huh?”

Dariax looks so earnestly mortified at what he’s done that Dorian can already feel how he’s forgiving him, how he finds it endearing, how his heart swells in his chest like the idiot that it is.

“It’s not such a big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just—uh. Maybe we should talk about all of this stuff before… you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, totally. I swear I’m usually not a creep or anything, it was just… you know. The heat of the moment, or something. So…”

Dariax is scratching the back of his head again and swallows before he shoots Dorian a lopsided grin.

“So. No kissing and stuff like that, huh? Just the hand-holding? Hey, maybe a hug or something?”

Dorian stares at him and he could swear that Dariax’ cheeks are a little redder than before, which, Dorian supposes, comes from his embarrassment about his earlier fuck-up.

As long as they’re doing this fake-boyfriend gig, Dorian could kiss Dariax whenever he wants. Because apparently Dariax doesn’t mind that one little bit. He might never get the chance again to kiss him if he says no now.

So Dorian does something incredibly stupid and impulsive and maybe it’s even a real ash-hole move. In this tiny moment in time he decides to be selfish.

“Kissing is fine. Uh—you know. You’re not that bad at it, I guess”, he says and laughs which sounds terribly false in his own ears but Dariax perks up and throws him a reckless grin that makes Dorian’s heart stumble in his chest.

“Ha! You just wait for it, I’ll kiss your brains out before you know it!”

*

Dorian might be addicted.

He knows that this is all a ruse based on a misunderstanding but gods, kissing Dariax is so good.

And Dariax somehow makes it seem as if he’s just as into it as Dorian is, because he keeps kissing him all the time. Of course, it never happens when they’re alone and only when Orym is in more or less close proximity but if Dorian isn’t careful he’ll start believing that they’re actually boyfriends sooner than later.

Dariax is so good at pretending.

He kisses Dorian as if he never wants to kiss anyone else. He holds Dorian’s face in his hands as if it’s something precious. He kisses Dorian breathless and at more than one point Dorian had to stop him because he was getting a little too into it and he’s afraid of overstepping any boundaries.

Dariax promised that he would kiss Dorian’s brains out and it’s absolutely working. On the seventh day on their journey south they get so caught up in making out that they don’t realize that the others have gone to find a camping place for the night.

“We should—uh. Probably follow them”, Dorian croaks and stares down at Dariax’ lips.

“Hmhm. Yeah. Probably a good idea”, Dariax mumbles. Then he kisses Dorian again.

Dorian gets lost in the sensation of tongues sliding against one another and the feeling of Dariax’ hand cupping his cheeks. Dorian slides his hands into Dariax’ hair and buries his fingers in there, something that provokes a sound from Dariax. A sound that gives Dorian goosebumps all over his arms.

He wants to hear it again. He wants to touch more. He wants, he wants, he wants—

Dariax pulls back, his eyes glassy, his breathing labored.

“I—uh. Ha. I got a little carried away. Sorry. What do you say about checking where the others went?”

“Sure. Yeah. Great idea. Let’s go.”

He steps away from Dariax and stuffs his hands into his pockets to keep Dariax from reaching for them. This is a complete and utter disaster.

Dorian knows that he should stop it.

He shouldn’t abuse Dariax’ trust like this and keep up his pretense when all that Dariax wants is to help Dorian make Orym jealous.

Which has, of course, not worked in the slightest, but Dariax insists that it’s just because Orym is such a rational and level-headed guy.

“We just need to wear him thin, you know.”

Dorian doesn’t know.

He feels like he doesn’t know anything anymore.

When they finally reach the campsite, Fearne has placed her head in Opal’s lap and seems to be napping as Opal carefully braids her long, green hair.

“You guys alright?”, Orym asks with his eyebrows raised. Dorian feels himself flush and clear his throat.

“More than alright”, Dariax answers and winks. The implication makes Dorian’s cheeks heat up even more.

He didn’t think that Orym’s eyebrows could climb even higher, but that’s exactly what happens as he regards the two of them.

“Dorian, can I talk to you for a second?”, Orym asks and gets up from the log he was sitting on. Dorian shoots Dariax a glance and he seems… off.

Dariax doesn’t return Dorian’s look, he just walks over to the fire, lets himself fall down next to Opal and asks, way too loudly to be necessary “So what’s for dinner?”.

But Dorian doesn’t have any time to think more about this, because Orym grabs his wrist and pulls him towards a group of trees, away from the campfire and away from Dariax whose eyes seem to bore themselves into the back of Dorian’s head as he follows Orym into the night.

“What are you doing?”

Dorian doesn’t have to ask what Orym means. He wrings his hands and stares at the ground.

“I—uh. I don’t really... I don’t really know?”

“So when you said adventurous and brunette, what you actually meant was short, stocky and a complete disaster?”

“I—um...”

Orym looks at him with raised eyebrows and despite the fact that Dorian is so much taller than him he suddenly feels very small.

“Well. Dariax kind of got it into his head that I’m into you. Which I’m not.”

“Yes, we established that.”

“Exactly. And. Well, he thought it would be a good idea to be fake boyfriends to make you jealous.”

Orym’s eyebrows rise even higher towards his hairline.

“But I’m not jealous. Because you and I are just friends.”

“I know, okay? It just kinda got out of hand?He’s so—I don’t know! I don’t know what to do!”

Orym sighs and rubs his temples.

“So. You’re actually into Dariax?”, he asks.

Dorian presses his lips together and takes a deep breath before he nods.

“And he doesn’t know. He thinks you’re into me?”

Dorian nods again.

“And now he’s waiting for me to get jealous and for us two to be boyfriends?”

Dorian shrugs helplessly.

“Isn’t that... I don’t know. It seems like lying to him.”

“What do you want me to do? Just tell him that I have the hots for him and then leave the country forever?”, Dorian hisses.

“Well, maybe he has the hots for you, too!”, Orym whispers back and Dorian can’t help but laugh. It sounds a little hysterical.

“Then why would he offer to help me to get with you?”

Orym stares at Dorian for a full thirty seconds. Then he sighs.

“I guess it’s a little hard to... fathom... what goes on in Dariax’ head.”

“That seems like an understatement.”

Orym scoffs and shakes his head with half a smile on his face.

“I can’t believe you actually fell for—that.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry. I guess to each their own.”

“So what’s your type then?”

“Uh—I don’t really have a type. I’m not into the whole relationship stuff. Or—uh. The sex stuff, for that matter.”

“Oh. Oh! I see. Well, that seems pretty convenient. Way less stressful than what I’m doing with my life.”

Orym smiles and shakes his head again.

“I’m not going to lie, when I’m watching you and Dariax or Opal and Fearne I am glad that I don’t have to deal with any of it”, Orym admits.

“Opal and Fearne? How do you mean?”, Dorian asks. His brain is still stuck on kissing Dariax without Orym even being in any close proximity. His whole brain capacity seems to be occupied by thinking about Dariax. It’s an absolute clusterfuck.

“Never mind. So, what do you intend to do? You can’t keep this up forever”, Orym says and pulls Dorian away from a trail of thoughts that was leading towards something explicit and utterly unbefitting of a talk with a good friend about feelings.

“I—uh. I’m still figuring it out. I’ll just. You know, I could just tell him that I’m not into you anymore and then he would probably stop”, Dorian says and ignores the uncomfortable tightness of his chest as he thinks about not being able to kiss Dariax anymore. Or hold his hand. Or being told that he’s beautiful.

He’s so fucked.

“I think you should just tell him, you know? We’re adventurers now, no one knows what might happen. If I learned anything from our Voice of the Tempest, it’s that you should do your best to live without any regrets, because time is a precious thing”, Orym says.

“A weird soup”, Dorian answers, his voice weak and his heart hurting. Orym snorts.

“Yes, sure. A weird, precious soup. Anyway. Think about it, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

*

Something is up with Dariax.

Dorian has no idea what it is, but there is definitely something wrong.

He’s quieter than usual, which is disconcerting. He’s also, very definitely, holding onto Dorian’s hand way tighter than before.

“Hey, is everything alright?”, Dorian asks him quietly as they’re getting ready for the night. The sky overhead is dark and full of clouds and the moon is barely visible.

“Yeah, sure. Stellar”, Dariax says but he’s not looking at Dorian.

“You don’t look stellar”, Dorian insists and puts his hand on Dariax’ shoulder. Dariax’ eyes flicker down to his hand and then up to his face. Dariax opens his mouth to answer, but Dorian doesn’t hear anything because there is a searing pain on his back and he slumps forward and crumples onto his knees.

His vision goes blurry from the pain and he can feel that there is something coursing through his body. It hurts.

“Dorian? Dorian!”

Lying down seems like a great idea. What if he dies now and he didn’t even tell Dariax that he’s not into Orym? What if his adventure ends here already? He doesn’t want to sink into the weird soup that is time already. He wants…

“Take your hands off my boyfriend, you fuckers!”

“Hey! What’s going on?”

“Dorian, are you okay?”

He is definitely not okay and while he probably should have different priorities as he’s bleeding out in the grass, all he can think about is the fact that Dariax just called him his boyfriend.

“Dorian, are you okay?”, Dariax’ voice sounds muffled and far away.

“Heh. You’re really good at pretending”, he lulls as he’s turned onto his back to look up at Dariax’ face.

“What? Guys, I think he has a concussion or something!”

“Well, heal him!”

“I’m trying! Dorian, hey! Buddy, don’t pass out on me, okay?”

“Did you know that your eyes are really pretty?”, Dorian slurs and he wants to raise a hand to touch Dariax’ face that seems way too red all of a sudden, but he can’t move a muscle and as he feels Dariax’ warm healing magic flow into him, he passes out from the mind-numbing pain.

*

Dorian has never shared a bed with anyone. Neither in a platonic nor in a romantic or sexual way.

When he wakes up there is someone plastered to his side. The quiet snoring tells him that it must be Dariax.

“Are you okay, Dorian?”, Fearne’s soft voice reaches his ears and he turns his head to see her sit on his other side, her hand places closed to his shoulder as if to make sure that he’s within reach.

“Uh—ow. Yeah. What happened?”

Dorian tries to concentrate on his own body and on Fearne’s words, but he’s distracted by the feeling of Dariax sleeping so close to him. His arm is thrown over Dorian’s chest and his face is pressed into Dorian’s shoulder. Orym is nowhere to be seen.

“Those Nameless Ones seem to have a pretty far reach. They really want that spider crown.”

Dorian groans as he tries to move.

“They hit me with poison or something?”

“Yeah. Dariax fixed it. Then he insisted on carrying you back to the cart. Then he insisted to tuck you into bed. And then he just sort of flopped down next to you and stared at you really intensely until he passed out.”

Dorian tries to laugh but almost chokes on it as he imagines this short man trying to carry someone as tall as Dorian. His thoughts circle around the fact that Dariax cared for him, healed him, tucked him into bed.

“So. Ah—where are Orym and Opal?”, he asks to distract himself from the feeling of having Dariax pressed so close to him.

“They’re checking to see if we’ll be safe for the night. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Fearne smiles down at him and starts scratching Little Mister under the chin as she hums a melody that Dorian’s never heard before.

“Did you ever have a really dumb crush?”, he asks before he can stop himself. Fearne turns her head to look at him again and cocks her head.

“A crush that was dumb because it wasn’t mutual or a crush that was dumb because the person was dumb?”, she wants to know.

“Ah. Huh—I haven’t thought about it that way. I guess… how about we go with both?”

Fearne puts her index fingers to her lips and cocks her head from side to side as she thinks about it.

“Well, I don’t think crushes are dumb just because they aren’t mutual. And I also think that Opal is very intelligent in her own, special way.”

Dorian blinks.

“Wait. What?”

“Hm?”

“You have a crush on Opal?”

“Sure. I thought it was pretty obvious”, Fearne says and smiles dreamily.

“Uh—maybe. Now that you mention it, I think Orym clocked it.”

“She is just. You know. Very exciting and spontaneous and funny and creative and pretty.”

The way that Fearne just talks about her crush makes Dorian wonder why he isn’t able to just say it like this. That he likes Dariax because he’s funny and brave and adventurous and a complete idiot in a lovable kind of way.

“What do you like about Dariax?”, Fearne wants to know.

“Uh—well”, he laughs nervously and clears his throat. Dariax is still softly snoring into his shoulder. “I guess��� I guess pretty much everything?”

“That’s so sweet! And that’s what he said too. You guys just fit so well”, Fearne says with an earnest smile.

“Wait. What?”

“Hm?”

“What did you just say?”

“I said that you guys fit really well.”

“No. No, I meant before that.”

“Uh—well, when I asked him what he liked most about you, he also said that he likes everything about you. I thought it was really sweet, you know? There was a whole list of things, but he stopped midway through it and said ‘So basically, everything’.”

There was a whole list of things.

A list.

 “So basically, everything.”

“Dorian? Are you really okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Hm? Oh—yeah. I’m fine. Perfect. Peachy. Never better.”

He laughs nervously and glances over at Dariax as his insides dissolve into small, hyperactive butterflies. Maybe it’s not what he thinks. Maybe Dariax meant that he likes everything about Dorian as a friend.

“If you’re sure you’re okay I think I’ll stretch my legs a little bit. This cart is pretty small”, Fearne says and scoots towards the exit of the cart. Little Mister follows behind her and a moment later Dorian is alone with a snoring Dariax, whose hand has somehow managed to sneak under Dorian’s shirt.

What is he supposed to do now?

Wake Dariax up? Confess his feelings?

His heart beats so quickly that Dorian is almost afraid that it might just leap out of his rib cage. In the end he’s not brave enough to wake Dariax up and instead intertwines their fingers and turns his head to look at Dariax who has definitely drooled onto his shirt.

He knows that he’s completely fucked because he thinks that this is endearing.

Dorian raises his arm and gently cards his hand through Dariax’ hair.

Dariax makes a small sound in his sleep, something that sounds like a content sigh, and the butterflies in Dorian’s stomach start dancing happily.

“D’you really think my eyes are pretty?”, Dariax mumbles a second later and Dorian pulls his hand away hastily as Dariax’ eyes open.

“Um—well. Yeah. They’re… they have a very nice color”, Dorian croaks. Dariax pulls his hand out from under Dorian’s shirt and starts rubbing at his eyes.

“You okay again?”

“Yeah. Thank you for saving me. And carrying me to the cart. And—uh. Tucking me in.”

Dariax’ cheeks redden as he coughs slightly before sitting up.

“Well, you know. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”, Dariax says with half a laugh in his voice that doesn’t sound completely genuine.

Dorian swallows and bites his bottom lip as he tries to find the words. He’s usually not bad at talking, so why does this seem so endlessly hard?

“So—uh. I have something to confess”, he starts as his thoughts start spinning around in panicked circles. Dariax turns his head to look down at him.

“I know, I know”, he answers.

“Huh?”

“Well, I figured, you know. When Orym dragged you away I thought you guys probably had a talk?”

“We did, yeah”, Dorian says but he is endlessly confused about what that has to do with anything.

“See, I knew it. So you think it finally started working, huh? Told you, I’m really good at this kind of stuff.”

Dorian decides that he has to sit up for this. His head is spinning and his heart is racing and he is endlessly confused about what in the ever-loving hell is going on.

“Working? What are you talking about?”

“You know, the jealousy thing.”

Dorian stares at him.

Then it finally clicks.

“Dariax… I don’t want to be fake boyfriends anymore”, he says quietly before he can think of a better way to say it. Dariax’ expression twists and he looks away, his hand reaching for the back of his head to scratch at his scalp—a sign for nervousness, as Dorian knows by now.

“Yeah. Okay. I—uh. That’s—“

“I want to be your real boyfriend.”

Dariax blinks a few times. Then his face turns the deepest shade of red that Dorian has ever seen on him.

“You—what?”

“I don’t like Orym. I never have. Not like that. I—uh. I like you. And when—if—I kiss you again I don’t want it to be just pretend, I want to really kiss you. Because I—uh. I really like kissing you.”

Dariax is still staring at him, seemingly stunned. The hand at the back of his head has stopped moving and started to sink slowly back into Dariax’ lap.

“So…”, Dorian says and the nervous energy humming under his skin is almost unbearable, “can I? Can I… kiss you? For real?”

If Dariax doesn’t say anything soon Dorian might have to flee from the cart and actually leave the country. The suspense is torturous, his words hang heavy in the air between them. And then, faster than Dorian can react, Dariax lounges himself at Dorian and kisses him so passionately that Dorian can’t suppress the moan that escapes him.

Dariax pushes at him, shoves Dorian back down onto the bedroll, sinks one hand into Dorian’s long hair and cups his face with the other.

Dorian’s brain goes blank as he arches up against Dariax’ weight on top of him.

“So, is that a yes?”, he pants into the kiss.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes”, Dariax rasps and kisses him again. “Gods, you’re so pretty. I thought I was going to go insane.”

Dorian makes a very embarrassing noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper. Maybe he likes those compliments more than a normal person would.

“So you like me?”

“Are you kidding me? So fucking much.”

Dariax is kissing his whole face now and Dorian wraps his arms around him. He feels light as a feather and the butterflies in his stomach have gone completely off the rails.

“Are you guys decent?”, Opal shouts from outside the cart.

“No! Go away! I want to make out with my boyfriend!”, Dariax shouts back and Dorian laughs.

“Don’t leave any icky spots though!”, Opal says.

“Oh, come on”, Dorian hears Orym protest.

“That’s what Prestidigitation is for, Opal! Read a book about magic!”, Dariax announces loudly and Dorian has no time to protest this obscene exchange because Dariax is kissing him again and Orym seems to be dragging Opal away from the cart.

“So do you know what that means?”, Dorian mumbles against Dariax’ lips.

“Hm?”

“I don’t need any flirting lessons from you after all.”

[idontblushsrry]

Love Language|| Jujutsu Kaisen

“I wanna be fluent in your love language. Learning your love language.” 

A/N: If you didn’t guess from the tagline this is inspired by the song love language by Kehlani. I’ll probably do more of these with different shows and what not because why not. If I missed anyone lmk and I can make a part 2. Also please tag spoilers appropriately esp for manga readers, that being said spoilers for the prequel? manga on Yuuta’s part.

Characters: Itadori, Fushiguro, Kugisaki, Maki, Inumaki, Okkotsu, Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna

Warnings: said it b4 but spoiler warnings in general but esp on Yuuji, Yuuta, and Maki’s parts

Plot synopsis: The 5 love languages; physical affection, quality time, words of affirmation, gift giving and acts of service, and how each jujutsu kaisen character shows their love and affection for you. Ft. a gender neutral reader!

Word count: 2352

Itadori Yuuji

Love Language: Quality time and physical affection

Ok listen-

So for physical affection, Yuuji’s just that kind of person

He is all about giving to you

He’s holding hands with you if you’re ever walking anywhere, and if you’re not a hand holder pls pls pls let him hold your pinky he likes the reassurance

No but seriously he loves to hold you like yall could be walking in completely opposite directions and he’ll try to find some way to hold onto you until the very last second

And even then he’s all ‘:( babe imy’

‘Yuuji we just talked 2 minutes ago’

Another way he shows his love is through quality time

I think for him this is the biggest thing overall, esp as a jujutsu sorcerer bcus you never know yk but also because you’re important to him

Like remember how he literally went to occult club so that he could get out of school in time to go visit his grandpa...ye :(

He also loves finding dumb touristy things to do with you while in Tokyo or anywhere yall go together on a mission 

If you get together before he died and came back then that time he had to spend away from you literally killed him

Like my mans was goin THROUGH it

He almost considered spoiling Gojo’s secret

When he sees you again, he’s not gonna let go for like a solid day

Fushiguro Megumi

Love Language: acts of service and words of affirmation

This boy loves you so much

He loves to tell you all the things he loves about you when you’re alone

But he’s a little awkward with his words sometimes, hence where acts of service come in

He’ll immediately offer to hold your things, run to help you train or study, and if you’re cold? He’s fully prepared to never see his jacket again

Also he can’t cook but he’s fully prepared to suffer hearing Sukuna and suffering through Yuuji’s antics if it means he can learn how to make your favorite food

He also will surprise you by making you a playlist of all the songs that you’ve had stuck in your head and sends it to you randomly out of the blue one day like ‘thought you might like this’

However the best of both worlds is when he leaves you little notes throughout the day or sends you texts asking if you need anything or just encouraging you to keep going 

Negl he’s lowkey the president of the Y/N support club bcus-

You need anything? It’s yours

Cravings? Sad? Angry? What do you need bby, I’ve got it for you

Also he’s totally the type to be like you need help fuckin this person up? 

Also before yall started dating, Fushiguro was a mess

He was constantly asking to spar with you and go on missions, basically anything he could do to be near you  

End of the day, Fushiguro loves you and makes sure you know it whether it’s through his actions or his words

Kugisaki Nobara

Love Language: physical affection

So, she’s not the best with words, she tries but like someone help her bcus she is LOST

Like when she had a crush on you she was like “c’mere dumbass i wanna give you a hug”

In fact, she still is like “c’mere” but now you are dating :)

She loves you though and at first she doesn’t really know how to show it 

But one day you both come home from training and you just look at each other like ‘yeah today sucks’ and yall both just held each other for the rest of the day 

After that, she decided that she wants to do that with you but like always

She’s holding your hand, kissing your cheek when you go shopping, etc. etc.

She really loves to cling to you because she always has this fear that maybe one day you’ll get killed or just disappear so she figures might as well hold onto you for as long as we’ve got

After missions, she’s running up to you and if you aren’t prepared for the tackle, you’re probably gonna fall

On dates too, like if you guys have to meet up for a date, she’s tackling you

On the subject of dates...

She doesn’t mind PDA, and while she might hold your hand or arm so that you don’t get separated

She also doesn’t mind wiping food off your face and eating it, only to then kiss the spot on your face the food was previously at

She will split her shopping load between the two of you, however she will be slightly pouty if she’s carrying more than you (she then cheers up when she realizes she can do more shopping to “balance” the two of you)

In private she’s very cuddly and kissy which honestly isn’t that bad until it gets hot

At which point she’ll just say turn on the ac or convince you to walk around in a tank top (or something like it) so that she can continue holding you

Tbh she prefers the big spoon, but if she’s ever upset you let her be the little spoon >:(

All in all a very loving girlfriend who tries her best to show how much she loves you by glomping you at any given moment. 

Zenin Maki

Love language: acts of service and quality time

So you’re telling me that Maki wouldn’t immediately go out of her way to make sure her and her s/o can spend as much time together as possible?????

Like she’s super observant (which can cause her to be a bit harsh, see Yuuta) but she can always tell what’s bothering you

So if you’re upset that you haven’t been spending enough time together due to her being out on missions or otherwise busy she’s immediately running to finish her stuff and spend time with you.

((She’s very sorry, but on the bright side she brought your favorites!))

Maki is also an acts of service type

This mostly ties in with her kind of direct action way of thinking

She thinks she’s slick but you can always see her sneaking around to do small things like grabbing your laundry for you and folding it

She’s very much like if you love someone, you gotta prove it

Overall, dates with her are very intimate and personal to the two of you

Like she’ll take you to a frog pond you landed in during a fight once

Or you’ll take her to a street fair that serves this exclusive food that Maki mentioned wanting to try 

However, Maki shows her love through quality time and acts of service and while she does receive love from these to a degree, she is very much a words of affirmation gal

She’s not insecure in her day to day life but she has her moments, everyone does

Sometimes, she’ll feel like shit and a failure and all she wants is for you to say that she’s doing amazing and that she’s a great girlfriend.

Inumaki Toge

Love language: Physical affection

Because of his curse, he can’t exactly express how he feels about you through words

He does text you frequently throughout the day (I’ll have to do a hc abt that someday)

But he’d prefer not to be on his phone to communicate if you’re right in front of him

So he does the next best thing and just smothers you in physical affection

He loves kissing you the most

Like he could spend hours just kissing you if you let him (please let him)

But in public, he gets if you’re not a big fan of pda he’s willing to tone it down as long as he gets kisses later in private

He’d still prefer it if you held his hand or linked pinkies maintaining touch in some way

Also, unrelated, but it means so much to him if you try to understand his sushi language

He knows realistically the foundation of any relationship is communication so already he’s at a disadvantage because of his curse 

But if he sees you like take notes after he says something or start to need him to text you to translate, his heart is swelling

Like ‘omg this person loves me enough to learn a whole new language <333′

Another tangent but before you were together he was struggling so muchhhh

Like how does one express their feelings for someone without words?

If you’re Inumaki, you buy some flowers and text said person to meet you at a cafe

It took an embarrassingly long time for you to realize it was a date, but once you did, you ever so gently linked pinkies with Toge

Okkotsu Yuuta

Love language: words. of. affirmation. 

He’s literally so sensitive please tell him you love him regularly

In return he’ll be sure to tell you how much he loves you too

He knows that he can’t really be there for you as much as he’d like but he likes to let you know that he’s thinking of you

Doesn’t matter the time, if you call, he’s answering

If he doesn’t he’ll cry he’ll immediately call you back and is apologizing for missing your call

You assure him it’s no big deal but the man has his volume turned all the way up and changed your ringtone to one specific for you by the time you’ve even said hey

Aside from that, he really is sensitive

He’s been through a lot especially with Rika as well as growing up alone and bullied 

So for him, it’s everything to hear that you like having him around and don’t think he’s too much or anything like that

Of course, he gets better with time, trusting you and having the confidence in himself to not need constant assurance

That being said, if you ever just whisper in his ear, “I love you, Yuuta.”

That’s not your boyfriend, that’s a puddle of love on the floor

(Maki, Panda, and Inumaki had a field day when they saw him, Fushiguro now questions if Yuuta really is a respectable 2nd year.)

Gojo Satoru

Love language: gift giving and quality time

So Gojo doesn’t exactly get to spend a ton of time

Between missions, him beefing with higher ups, and you and him playing parent the baby sorcerers yall don’t exactly get time to go out much

In which case Gojo tends to default to two options:

He’ll either go the extra mile to try and spend time with you 

Whether that be an at home date where he tries and fails to surprise you with a home cooked meal

Or a date out at a restaurant or cafe (which you tend to visit after his home cooking efforts)

OR he’ll bring you various souvenirs from his missions

He loves to spoil you, and if he could he’d probably bring you back a whole store’s worth of stuff

But alas, airport security regulations

Anyways, he loves to spoil you especially if he can spoil you with sweets because it benefits him in two ways 

He treasures all the time you spend together, and he does try to overcompensate for his absence with gifts

Despite your assurances, it’s kind of a guilty pleasure at this point (just let him, trying to argue just goads him on further)

He doesn’t only buy you small things, he enjoys buying you outfits

And he especially likes seeing you in them 

Kento Nanami

Love Language: acts of service

Y’all remember the episode where he killed that curse that was bothering that baker lady?? Yea that

He’s literally such an acts of service boyfriend it’s not even funny

Before you got together, he would memorize your coffee order and bring you a cup pretty much everyday like clockwork

Now that you’re togehter, he wakes up before you so h=that when you wake up there’s the smell of coffee throughout the house

When you come out of you’re shared bedroom and he’s just scrooling through his phone like “mornin’”

Of course you already made the bed and ironed his clothes because relationships are give and take

And then when you leave for your jobs in the morning, he kisses you and holds the door open for you

He’ll draw a bath for you if he gets home before you, if you let him join or not is up to you

Also, if you ever get sick, he’s actually the best

Like he isn’t the best cook but he can heat up soup and tea

He’ll run to the store while you’re asleep and when you wake up, there’s like a whole tray of food in front of you and he’s like ‘it’s important to eat and drink so your body can heal’

And when you inevitably fall asleep after eating and taking medicine at his insistence, he tucks you in and clears away the dishes, exiting with little more than a kiss to your head

Ryoumen Sukuna

Love Language: gift giving and acts of service

So like Sukuna never says he loves you...ever

But he does notice if someone or something’s making you uncomfortable, and if so, said entity’s head will be presented to you later that day

You also just so happen to be the only person he can tolerate being around him for longer than 20 seconds

He also loves to give you jewelry, he likes seeing you adorned in something from him

He also isn’t gonna just handle all your problems for you, he will push you to become stronger by training with you 

He’ll also expect this energy to be reciprocated, as long as you’re pushing yourself to be better, he’s content with that

(He wants to see you grow because he’s scared that if he ever gets caught lackin one day you’ll end up dead)

He’ll never tell you or admit it, but Sukuna truly does care for you and hold you in a regard that he doesn’t have for others

So be grateful jkjk