#//but he's also so averse to proper intimacy and closeness

[infinitisms]

of all his techniques, gojo finds hollow purple to be one of the most draining. he still highly associates the move with the notion of desperation and losing control, as well as with the image of toji fushiguro, a spectral embodiment of his mortality which continues to haunt him. 

he’s only ever used it a handful of times. there’s something about such a ridiculously destructive ability why intrinsically alienates him from the world and his peers, a stark contradiction to the conscious effort he makes to try and bring himself ‘back down to earth’ in his everyday life.

satoru’s entire encounter with toji was definitely a turning point in his life and I wouldn’t hesitate to state that the brazen overconfidence of his youth was a manifestation of uncertainty. at that point in time, he’d been raised to abide by a certain set of strict rules dictated by his clan and had been practically shaped into their idea of a clan head and weapon.

attending school definitely challenged this disillusioned worldview by providing a radical contrast that affirmed his inner desire for independence and began to plant within him the seed of opposition against the very hierarchy that he was thus far being groomed into bolstering. 

gojo being gojo, coped with this blatant confusion by refusing to acknowledge it, instead bringing to the forefront the title of his birthright- being the strongest, and by extension, being infallible.

his ‘death’ during the star plasma vessel arc completely shatters this belief. it’s a rude awakening which forces him to reckon with everything he’s held dear and true, and it culminates into a rebirth that is both metaphorical and figurative. 

he subsequently experiences a moment of true clarity where he refines his thus far imperfect technique (and arguably, also reconciles the fragments of himself- which I feel can be somewhat linked to the honoured one statement), which ultimately allows him to unleash hollow purple on toji.

[momentomori24]

Do you think Wolfgang could be touch-starved? Given that he lost his mother when he was very young and that his father was likely an a-hole, I doubt he was given any proper affection growing up, let alone during his years in law school.

You're asking me if I believe Wolfgang may be touch starved. You're asking ME if believe Wolfgang may be touch-starved???? YES OF COURSE I DO BELIEVE THAT THANKS FOR ASKING---

Wolfgang, to me, is both touch-starved and touch-aversive. If Wolfgang ever really met his mum (which is still up for debate with the "I really am finally meeting you"), I feel like it was only for a few years and their relationship was very strained. I can't imagine they had a very good relationship in what feels implied to be an abusive household, and also that Wolfmum may have had an aversion to men that possibly extended to Wolfgang especially since he looks like a mini version of her husband. So while Wolfgang very likely craved comfort and affection from her, it's something she was never really able to properly fulfil, which is where the touch-starved part comes in. In comparison, Wolfdad seems like a more likely candidate for Wolfgang's primary (and potentially sole) caretaker, and with what's implied about him yeah he seems like a piece of shit. Wolfgang's traumatised reaction to seeing him while he was hallucinating makes it apparent that he was downright awful to his mum (and likely having murdered her too), but I feel like it also suggests elements of abuse in their own relationship as well (note how Wolfgang started freaking out only after Diana grabbed him to pull him out ☝). And this is where the touch-aversive part comes in.

For me at least, Wolfgang strikes me as the type of guy who would (if necessary/emergency cases) offer hugs to close friends and people he trusts, but is more reluctant about receiving them himself, especially unexpectantly. I do think he yearns for intimacy and affection, but the well has been poisoned to the point where he feels safer keeping a distance and avoiding contact-- another thing he and Grace have in common lol. She is outright confirmed to have faced violence at the hands of men in her industry and also repeatedly resorts to keeping a firm distance and lashing out to protect herself as a result (good example being her sucker-punching Damon immediately and asking questions later and also probably attacking Wolfgang too but choosing to spare him). It's very special to me that they manage to overcome that and felt safe enough around each other to become as close as they were :3

[infinitxes]

of all his techniques, gojo finds hollow purple to be one of the most draining. he still highly associates the move with the notion of desperation and losing control, as well as with the image of toji fushiguro, a spectral embodiment of his mortality which continues to haunt him. 

he’s only ever used it a handful of times. there’s something about such a ridiculously destructive ability why intrinsically alienates him from the world and his peers, a stark contradiction to the conscious effort he makes to try and bring himself ‘back down to earth’ in his everyday life.

[woeisme-iamwoe]

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 1

I went through my entire ao3 history because I’m insane, AND here’s my favorites. (There’s not a lot of aus because I’m not a huge fan of them, and there’s no sad endings. I’m a hopeless romantic leave me alone. There is angst though! Lots) 

Beginning with SakuAtsu (I’m a hoe for Atsumu): 

Hide and seek, by badreputation (10k. E. canonverse) 

It sure is a good thing Atsumu doesn't have a latex allergy 

It’s just a fleeting infatuation. As long as he pushes through it he’ll manage. So what if nowadays there isn’t a night where he doesn’t dream of Sakusa pinning him down on his own bed, in the shower or make Atsumu go down on his knees in the hallway? Those are just pesky details.

Some Memories, We May Keep, by mika60 (31k. T. canonverse) 

This is canon, fight me on it. 

The missing panels, the missing games, the missing moments.

The them we never saw.

*Now complete! :)*

 every action has an equal and opposite reaction, by akanemnida (10k. T. canonverse) 

Miya Atsumu gets a modeling contract with Calvin Klein, which sets Kiyoomi's heart in motion.

(Or: Sakusa Kiyoomi realizes that the rules governing the universe are absolute rubbish at explaining matters of the heart.)

 Ass-fingering as a prelude to relations of the emotional kind: a case study, by neverwere (2k. E. canonverse) 

Fucking hilarious, the imagery is absolutely hilarious. 

"Marry me, he thinks, as he comes around Sakusa's fingers and all over himself.

This. This is exactly why you don't let strangers or very attractive teammates finger you out of the blue.

Everyone knows that the ass is the shortest way to the heart."

Or

When it comes to sex, Atsumu has rules. Guidelines! SOPs! He swears they work, they've always worked.

Until they don't.

 parallax error: angle of inclination, by min_mintobe (10k. T. canonverse)

But now there's the one person Atsumu'd promised himself never to touch. His eyes leave Atsumu breathless with guilt at seventeen, and he spends the next six years safe in the satisfaction of making things right.

Feelings, of the physical kind, and one kiss.

ft. competitive spirit, childishness, and late night conversations.

Atsumu POV.

 autumn ends, but we remain, by wolfsbvne (5k. T. canonverse)

Author says in their ending notes that they're not an ‘author’, but methinks they should write more and pursue that career path because this was wonderful.  

atsumu stares at his ceiling at 2am. he stares until he can make out designs in his popcorn ceiling. a cat there, an onigiri here, and then something that suspiciously looks like a mop of hair, triangle eyebrows, and oh those two bumps are moles right above what atsumu just mapped out as an eye.

(or, atsumu is in kind of in love. sakusa is maybe in like.)

I left a taste in your mouth, by emso (26k. E. bodyguard au)

Because obviously 

Sakusa fixes him with a vague expression of something like distaste. There's a scathing edge to his tone when he speaks. "Contrary to what you seem to believe, not everyone who meets you is instantly dying to get into your pants, Miya."

"Lucky I don't really care right now what 'everyone' wants to do, then." Atsumu swivels his mug around on the tabletop a few times, and then brings it to his mouth to drain the last few dregs of his latte. Over the rim of his mug, he adds casually, "Just you."

Whoa hey Bodyguard Omi, I think Spoiled Rich Kid Tsumu might possibly have a teensy crush on you. 

 How do you know you're in love?, by spiritscript (12k. T. canonverse)

Pure art

“So, how did you know you were in love? How did it feel?” Atsumu felt nervous asking this, a slight wiggling in the pit of his stomach, unable to look at the man beside him who rolled his shoulders in an attempt to reset his posture. “I mean, you didn’t resonate with what I said, so, what is love to you Omi-kun?”

Atsumu thinks he must be in love with Hinata Shouyou and so asks the best person he knows to help him understand his feelings

 san'yo expressway, 6:17 pm, by yamabota (13k. T. canonverse)

Of violent forethoughts, and handheld car vacuums. 

Atsumu tilts his head to watch a slice of orange light bend over the impassive planes of Sakusa’s face. He is absolutely, ruthlessly beautiful. It makes Atsumu want to punch something—put his foot through the windshield—scream, maybe.

Kiss him again, maybe.

They have 344 kilometers to figure this one out. 

Different Kinds of Dysfunctional, by DeathBelle (Series, 5 works. T-E. Canonverse)

Honestly, I think this one is kind of famous amongst Sakuatsu readers but I can’t not include it. If I recall correctly, this is the fic that got me into Sakuastu, so thanks, DeathBelle. The characters are portrayed really well (i.e. Sakusa is disgusted and confused, and Atsumu is a little shit). You’ve got a good balance between conversations and descriptive thoughts and all-in-all it’s just a really good read. 

 Atsumu said into the heavy silence, “You can’t say you’ve never thought about it.”

"Thought about what?" said Sakusa.

Atsumu smiled to himself, smug. "You know."

"No, I don't."

"You know. Of course you’ve thought about it. There’s no reason to be ashamed, Omi-kun. I’m a real catch.”

Sakusa was appalled. "You're disgusting."

"You flatter me. I'm not judging you. I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it, too."

Sakusa shifted, slowly, to peer over his shoulder. He wasn’t scowling, but his expression was unreadable. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Atsumu wasn't joking, and he was about to get more than he bargained for.

i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands), by liliapocalypse (7k words. T. canonverse):

Oh, god. This one was so cute. Super fluffy. Loved the metaphors and symbolism. Sometimes you just can’t say things out loud. 

When a bad injury shocks the whole V. League, Sakusa finds himself paired with Atsumu for more rigorous assisted stretches before every training. Atsumu then finds himself writing random letters on Sakusa’s skin to soothe the spiker, forcing Sakusa to reevaluate how his touch aversion became an irresistible yearning for more, and how the boy with the annoying hair somehow brought that hunger to life.

Or, the fic where Atsumu mindlessly writes a confession on Sakusa’s back when he thought Sakusa wasn't paying attention. Sakusa always did.

 mortality is found is the flesh of your sins, by novrik (10k. M. canonverse)

This is literally my favorite fic of all time. Not just of Sakuatsu, not even of the Haikyuu fandom. Ever. Favorite fic ever. Listen, I’m an atheist, but this fic took me on a religious experience that I haven't come down from yet. The symbolism had me actually shivering, and I had to put my phone down quite a few times. Just, oh wow, just read it. I’d like to share my favorite line; ‘And if Sakusa is Eve, if he takes a bite, what then? Perhaps, he is a little afraid of the knowledge he will gain’. My god, author, if you ever see this, this is not only a plea for you to continue writing, but also an offer of marriage. Your hand, author?

 dickhead one, sakusa kiyoomi. dickhead two, miya atsumu. neither understand how to communicate.

Pray tell, why are you drawn to him?

Are you drawn to him in the way he looks beautiful even when crying?

When his eyes are red, shiny tears streaking down, lips quivering, is he beautiful?

 sakuatsu domesticity simulator, by pseudoanalytics (75 words. T. canonverse)

75 words because it's actually a digital art simulator. An interactive fic! How frickin’ cool is that? The art is so beautiful and I love the plotline and ugh, just everything. Please read, or watch, or click around, yes. Good. 

Update: artist created another interactive fic and of course it is wonderful. SunaOsa this time! https://newttxt.itch.io/cheesecake honestly just check out @newttxt their work is amazing and I love everything they do. 

a vaguely interactive mixture of fic, art, and html, where you too can experience the inherent romance of a big fat jerk and a too-blunt jerk attempting intimacy

***

(this is the result of letting the sakuatsu brainworms really get to you...)

 Pas De Deux, by hatsuna (19k words. T. Ballet/college au)

There's just something about prim, proper ballet Sakusa and human-benign-tumor Atsumu that makes my heart burst. Seriously gorgeous writing style, loved every second. By the same author who wrote ‘liminal spaces’ (which is also just perfect) so that should give you a good idea of the style. 

The mystery athlete gives Kiyoomi a once over in the mirror. “Yer pretty tall,” he observes. The twang of an accent rasps low in his throat. His brazen eyes drift to Kiyoomi’s legs, and something like exhilaration glints gold in his gaze. “Good quads, too. Ya ever played volleyball?”

 Ah. So it’s volleyball.

“I’m a dancer. Ballet and contemporary, mostly.”

 the affective presence of our black and white reruns, by kozumess (19k. E. canonverse)

Beautiful, classic misunderstandings, my heart actually physically ached at that one scene (you’ll know the scene when you come to it). Kiyoomi is so refreshingly relaxed(? Is that the right word to use? We all know Omi never truly relaxes). 

but the want, it's always there, constant like the static playing on every television channel, present even when the station disconnects.

 cut the conversation, just open your mouth, by meeksoo (E. 16k. canonverse)

Absolutely filthy...BUT WITH FEELINGS! Completely nails the Sakuatsu dynamic, and protective ‘Tsumu? Love it. 

Sakusa opens the door. He always does.

 They’re teammates first, barely even friends. But they hook up on the regular and it works. It’s simple, easy. But then a fan gets too close, Sakusa reacts, and Atsumu is swept up in how quickly things can get complicated.

__

As Atsumu palms himself over his briefs, still feeling off, he realizes it’s because he still wants it. Him. Sakusa. Even after already having him earlier.

He should probably feel self-conscious, mildly ashamed even, that he’s panting ‘Omi Omi’ into the dark beneath the steady thrum of the AC unit when Sakusa’s right down the hall, probably good for it if Atsumu ended up back at his door. Instead, he lays there, writhing and sweaty, alone in his hotel room bed thinking about Sakusa and touching himself.

Afterward, as cum begins to cool on his chest, Atsumu really can’t help but face the fact that things may be getting complicated.

 the hands that beckon me to come, by Ellieb3an (4k. E. canonverse)

So hot, what the fuck! 

The toss, the run, the spike-serve at the end of it all—Sakusa sees it happen in perfect clarity as if time has slowed and his vision narrows to the center where just Miya exists, all powerful muscle and extraordinary skill and that air of confidence.

Sakusa isn’t one of the best receivers in the league for no reason, so his body moves on muscle memory, forearms absorbing the sting of the hit. It’s not enough. But his eyes are still on Miya—on the way his shorts ride up his muscular thighs as he lands, on the bead of sweat dripping down his forehead, on the clench of his fist thrust into the air—when the ball ricochets out of bounds.

***

Atsumu stays late at practices to work on his new third serve, even when his frustration with it starts throwing off the rest of his game. Sakusa notices and starts hanging back to secretly watch him from the gym doors. He’s fascinated with Atsumu's determination... and more than a little turned on by it, too.

 you're the flame i use (when it gets dark), by starkartifices (55k. M. canonverse. Ongoing)

Everything is the same except the Sakusas are super rich. 

“Oh, if you want dear, you could bring a plus one. Though, I doubt you have a partner yet.”

“I do actually.”

“What was that, dear?”

"I do have a partner, I mean."

alt title: crazy rich sakusas 

 the inherent romance of classical conditioning (or; the fine art of emotional recognition), by pseudoanalytics (13k. E. canonverse)

Ah, yes. A Pavloved sex life. A Pavloved LOVE life?? 

It's stupid. Atsumu isn't a romantic, no matter how many times he's imagined laying Sakusa out and finally really touching him.

So there's no explanation for why Atsumu is constantly stuck thinking about brushing his fingertips against the meat of Sakusa's palms or the prominent tendons in his freaky wrists.

There's no explanation for why doing dishes sets off a warm burn in his ribcage, or why when he smells disinfectant he inhales like he's walking past a bakery.

Yer doin' this to me, he thinks furiously, as Sakusa derails his thoughts with kisses that come more and more frequently now. Yer conditionin' me, and I can't stop it.

 flutterbird (a collection of sakuatsu oneshots), by wordstruck (5 works. T-E. canonverse)

Works 1-3, I think follow a linear story, whereas the last two don't. 

All sakuatsu works are just the angstiest, most miscommunication filled pieces of absolute gold and this one is no exception. Wow. These men are assholes and they bring out the worst in each other, but I’ll be damned if they’re not soulmates. 

Collection of SakuAtsu fics. Several fics are loosely set in the same storyverse. Not necessarily directly connected and can all be read as standalones.

[house-of-otome]

Thank you for writing the previous ask! But I also realized it may not be as GN as most people would want so to make up for my mistake I would like to ask what's your HC of the bros (+ undateables if you'd like to include them) cuddle/sleeping positions with a GN mc!

No worries nonnie, I'm not averse to writing MCs that aren't gender neutral, it's just that GN MCs are kinda my default cuz I'm nonbinary myself ^^;; (Not to mention that nonbinary people can also have boobs)

Anyways lets get to the fluff fest shall we?~

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

Lucifer:

- Cuddles: Loves it when you're just sitting side by side, more or less minding your own business in each other's presence. Bonus points if you're resting your head on his shoulder. He knows he's often busy so having this simple yet meaningful physical contact with you is very precious to him.

- Snuggles: After a long day of shenanigans and work there are two things that could happen depending on his mood. An exhausting but ultimately satisfying day? He likes having you half lying on top of him with your head on his chest while he runs his fingers through your hair, it's possessive enough that it feeds into his pride but tender enough to convey how much he loves you. On a rough day that just leaves him drained? He likes to lie beside you, you on your back him on his side facing you, his arms wrapped around you and his head on your chest, preferably over where your heart is. He just wants to be soft with you and hearing your heartbeat is so soothing to him. Bonus points if you run your fingers through his hair or gently rub circles between his shoulder blades, this man will just melt.

Mammon:

- Cuddles: Loves having you sit sideways in his lap with your arms draped around his shoulders/neck. That way he can easily hold all of your attention whenever he wants, and you know this man is greedy for it, especially in private. Loves any position where he can completely wrap you in his arms to be honest, he's just really desperate to hold you close to him.

- Snuggles: Loves it when the two of you are lying on your sides facing each other, he loves being able to see the tender loving look in your eyes in the darkness. I imagine he has a naturally warmer body temperature so you might not be completely wrapped up in each other but that's up to you, either way he will have at least one arm draped over you. If he had an especially rough day though, all he wants is for you to spoon him, he wants to feel completely wrapped up by you, it reminds him how much you love him, that you chose him.

Leviathan:

Cuddles: Okay, it will take a bit for this man to get used to any amount of physical contact, but once you get there? He's all over you, he's trying out all the different cuddle positions he's ever seen in anime. His favourite though, is when you sit in his lap while he's gaming (or the two of you are gaming together), he gets to have two of his favourite things at the same time, your affection and a fun video game. Bonus points if you're cheering him on or team up with him to defeat the opponents.

Snuggles: I feel like his body temperature would be lower than average. His bathtub bed would have some limitations, so you're going to have to either settle for it or somehow convince him to get a regular bed. He prefers to sleep in his demon form, if that's alright with you, it just feels more natural and comfortable to him. In that vein, he loves to wrap his tail around you while you snuggle. If you sleep in the bathbed it will basically look as follows: You're lying on top of him, face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, his arms wrapped around your torso and his tail wrapped around one of your legs.

Satan:

- Cuddles: He's another one who loves sitting side by side with you, leaning into one another. No one tell him he has this in common with Lucifer though, don't do it. He'll be reading, you'll be doing whatever you want to do (which could very well be reading too idk what your hobbies are). He likes to rest a hand on your thigh too, not implying anything just for the extra closeness.

- Snuggles: Loves lying on your sides face to face, legs tangled together and forehead touching yours. He also loves holding your hand in this position, the closeness and the gentle intimacy reminds him that you really love him, and you trust him. You trust him, the avatar of wrath of all people, and he's so happy you do. Every night when your hand slips into his he vows to himself to never do anything to break that trust.

Asmodeus:

- Cuddles: He's up for pretty much anything that allows him to be close to you. He adores you and he wants you to know. Especially loves it when you're doing skin care routines/make up together and you sit on his lap facing him, straddling him, while you apply the lotions and the lipbalm and whatnot. Loves that all your focus is on him and all his focus is on you.

- Snuggles: Spooning, he loves loves loves spooning you, and he doesn't mind being the little spoon either. He just lives for the gentle intimacy of having every inch of your bodies pressed together. He also loves giving little kisses on the back of your neck while doing so, if you're ticklish there he adores the little giggles that escape your lips when he does.

Beelzebub:

- Cuddles: Okay not quite a cuddle technically, tho he loves cuddling too, but he adores hugging you from behind and resting his head on top of yours. I know everyone says it but that's because it's true, this man is a walking teddy bear and he loves you so much. Bonus points if you're cooking and you let him taste test things by feeding them to him over your shoulder.

- Snuggles: Another one who I imagine is a walking heater. Loves having you curled up against him with his arms wrapped around you, it makes you feel incredibly safe and he gets to feel like he's protecting you, like you're safe with him no matter what. That's what he wants you to know too, he will protect you, no matter the danger. Bonus points if you have one arm lying across his chest or stomach.

Belphegor:

- Cuddles: Okay so first of all, any cuddles with this man are prone to turning into snuggles. That being said he loves hanging out in the planetarium with you, his head resting in your lap and you running your fingers through his hair while he sleepily tells you about different constellations and planets. He might drift off to sleep in the middle of a sentence though, but that's just because having you play with his hair is so relaxing to him.

- Snuggles: Is it nap time yet? It is now, c'mon MC off to bed you go. He will steal you away for naps whenever he can, dragging you off to one of his prime napping locations. He loves lying face to face with you, sharing his pillow. He doesn't share his pillow with anyone but you (and maybe Beel too if he's had a nightmare or something and needs the magic cow pillow of good sleeps). He loves to gently run his fingers through your hair and watch you slowly doze off, it's the cutest thing to him, and lowkey he feels he can only fall asleep satisfied knowing you're peacefully asleep too.

Bonus!!

Diavolo:

- Cuddles: Loves cuddling with you in his lap on his throne, not only does he love giving you affection and being close to you, being on his throne during it lowkey gives him a hell of a power rush.

- Snuggles: Any position that allows him to wrap you in his arms, and I mean who wouldn't want to be wrapped up in those strong af arms, right? He just loves holding you, so much, he lives for it honestly.

Barbatos:

- Cuddles: He's a very very busy demon, so he has less time for proper cuddles than he would like. He adores it when he's cooking and you hug him from behind though, shuffling along with him while he prepares that night's meal.

- Snuggles: I imagine he's the type who is most comfortable sleeping on his back, so he loves having you curl around him from his right or left side, holding your hand and resting them on his chest.

Simeon:

- Cuddles: As long as you're leaning against him one way or another he's a happy angel. The gentle intimacy, having you close, it's enough to make his heart melt. Bonus points if you're in a position where he can easily plant kisses on your forehead.

- Snuggles: Loves being in a position where he can wrap not only an arm but also a wing around you (or yknow draped over you). It makes him feel like he's your guardian angel, even if he might not officially be, he wants you to feel safe with him.

Solomon:

- Cuddles: I find him so hard to pin down;; But I think any position in which he can gently tease you in one way or another would be his fav, whether he's teasing with tickles or kisses.

- Snuggles: Again I'm not sure, but I think whatever position you're in he's the type who likes to rest a hand on your hip.

Luke:

- He's baby, please treat him like a younger brother, he will complain but secretly he loves it. Platonic cuddles only. Romanticise or lewd the baby angel and I will find you and break your kneecaps.

[b4-yeonder]

Hey are the requests open? If so, can you do a a-z nsfw for Lucifer? If they're not open then please ignore this. Anyways, I love your writing and I'm looking forward to more 😊😊😊

I’ve never done one of these before so I hope it’s okay. Also I struggle to take anything seriously so of course there’s gonna be some dumb shit in here. Anyway, hope you enjoy and thank you so much! 

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of murder

NSFW A-Z: LUCIFER

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Lucifer can be rough - he's known to be a sadist after all but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to look after you once he's had his way. Softens his voice, asks if you're okay, if there's anything you need. Will clean you up and praise you for how well you did. If it's him needing the aftercare, he's very quiet, playing over what just happened. Appreciates a drink and gentle caresses to bring him back down to earth

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I think that Lucifer has quite a lot of insecurities - being told you're perfect all the time can make you dwell more on your flaws (or what you deem to be flaws.) But one thing he does like is his eyes. He knows he can make you lose yourself in his eyes with a single look. One look from across the room and he can have you begging for him within moments.On you he loves your hands. He doesn't let many people get close, let alone touch him, but your hands can ease his pains and make him feel loved. Massages, caresses, the way you hold his head against your chest at night, or the way you grip his cock so eagerly once he's riled you up. Also ties into a little somethin' I'll mention below in the D section eh ehhhh. (Oh and your mouth is a close second. (And not just because you called him baby boy once and had him malfunctioning for a whole hour.))

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Lucifer doesn't like the thought of cleaning up, so prefers to cum inside you - it's his main way of showing that you're his. But accidents happen and there have been times he's slipped out at the last minute and coated the skin of your stomach/back and for a moment he found himself admiring it - like a new way of marking you as his. Oh he also likes painting your tongue with his cum too because watching you swallow it makes his pride bl o s s o m.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Dirty to him anyway - he actually likes submitting to you. (Once you two are quite established.) Shock horror! But you're the only one he trusts to completely let loose with, and sometimes when you have this much pressure on you it's nice to let someone else take control. BE HONOURED. OH and the hand thing. He will fucking worship your digits. Kiss 'em, suck 'em, nuzzle 'em. OOF. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's been around for a long time, so it goes without saying he's had plenty of experience. He's well versed in the basics and is quick to pick up on every little thing you like to use against you (in the best way possible).

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Likes being able to see your face, to watch every little sound escape your lips, every little sign of pleasure. Feeds off of it. But is not averse to shoving you face first into the mattress and fucking you senseless until you can barely utter a word. So y'know depends on his mood really. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Serious. But dumb shit can happen during sex and even the Mighty First is not immune to this. Will laugh stuff off and get things quickly back on track by muttering naughty things in that delicious voice of his. If you insist on being jokey he'll insist on making it so you can't do anything but moan ;)

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He's a busy guy, but he makes sure to always be groomed. This does mean that things get on top of him and well...don't blame the overworked tired bean if he gets a little unruly down there sometimes, okay?

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

He's almost always quietly praising/encouraging you - in between the teasing of course. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He's a stressed mess, he needs to release his frustrations somehow. Does it less so since you came along, and honestly didn't masturbate too often before, but when he does it's a scene. He takes his time, making sure to work up to a glorious finish so that he can truly relax afterwards.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Probably has a Sir or Daddy kink. Kinda likes choking you as well. One time your hand slipped from his chest to his throat without you thinking and that's when he realised he kinda likes being choked too oii oiiii.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His freakin' giant glorious bed because he's old and has back pain. Also bending you over his desk after rather troublesome days works too.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You teasing him throughout the day. "MC you're eating that corn too sexually I'm going to have to teach you a lesson later." "Did you just call me mum? I don't care if it's an accident, I'm going to have to punish you later." "Did you just breathe? That's it, you asked for it." In all seriousness he rarely shows his want for you on the outside, but inside he'll be raring to ravage you. Depends on the day - one day you could have him popping a boner simply by rubbing your foot against his calf. The next, stripping naked and grinding on his face might not even make him blink. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

"Roleplay as Satan for me, Lucifer." You're probably dead before you even finish speaking those words, sorry I don't make the rules. (Oh wait I kinda do right now oops.)

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Prefers to give as he likes having the power over you to make you come completely undone. Can feel a little vulnerable receiving - maybe he got bitten by a devious ex lover, who knows, but once you get going and his confidence with you grows he likes nothing more than grabbing the back of your head and urging you to take more of him.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be both. Fast and rough are his go-to, and when he does go slow, his thrusts are still usually on the harder side.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He loves taking his time with you, as he likes driving you crazy for him but if the mood calls for it he has no issues with bending you over his desk and taking you right then and there. Will probably take extra care of you next time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Damn straight he's down to experiment. Is curious to see how far both of you can go and what you're willing to do. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Only one round, his back hurts too much. I'm kidding, he can go a few rounds, and can last a long time. There have been a couple occasions he's cum rather fast - either when drunk, or it's been a while since the last time. Gets very embarrassed over it but knows it's natural and happens sometimes. (That’s not the norm though, he promises.)

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He got a bit crazy when you came along. Anything you like the sound of, he has. Already had blindfolds and things to bind you with - rope, ribbons, string cheese, you name it. But now you're here he has a whole collection of toys to tease you with. Even has a favourite vibrator he loves to leave strapped to your thigh so you can't get away from it. Ah, good times.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Biiitch. BIiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch. This monster is the biggest tease. "Hm...I'm not sure you deserve my cock today, MC. Now now, begging will get you nowhere." (It probably will eventually, just saying. ...Maybe.) He'll leave you on read for days but magically turn up just as you're about to pleasure yourself like "nuhuh bitch, not today."

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Fairly quiet - any sounds he does make are low in his throat, deep. Loses control closer to reaching his climax - gets breathier, speaks a little louder and noises are more frequent. Buuut once he did manage to wake up everyone in the house but that was because you'd been teasing him all day, you hadn’t slept together in like a week, and he'd been drinking and-- the list of excuses go on.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Was once convinced to try out women's underwear once after a conversation with Asmo and was pleasantly surprised by how nice his ass looked. Will never EVER tell anyone this though, not even you and shit I shouldn't even be writing this he's probably gonna-- Oh heyyy Lucifer, nothing to see here I was jus--*gurrKH*

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Decent length, decent thickness. Just enough to take a bit of work to fit in but not too much that it's uncomfortable, y'know?

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not very high, definitely not above average. Can definitely go without, but his mind might wander.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends how tired he is, and how much is on his mind. You'll probably be the one to fall asleep first most of the time, which is great because he's good at giving after-sex cuddles. Plus your steady breathing makes it easier for him to sleep as well so...win win?

[dxppercxdxver]

A Note on the Use of Distance, Or: The Evolution of Nines's and Gavin's Relationship as Seen Through Body Language and Physical Proximity, Or: Sparrow Writes 6k About DE That Is Literally Just a Narrative Analysis

Apologies in advance, this is gonna be a long one. If you stick to it and read the whole thing, I will love you forever. (Also, @domlerrys, I’m tagging you because we talk about meta a lot and I think you’ll like this.)

And Michelle, I’m sorry for the length, but there’s just so much to talk about, I had to. Also, “brevity” is not in my vocabulary. Oops. (I’m also sure you know most of this already, but I had a blast analyzing this.)

So, it’s been about a month, and I think it’s about time I typed up some of my thoughts about the use of distance in Detroit Evolution. (For those of you who haven’t seen it yet, 1) What are you doing? 2) Go check it out, it’s a beautiful feature fan film made by the lovely people at @octopunkmedia, and if you like good ace representation, I think you’ll like it.)

To give us the proper background, let’s establish our characters’ relationships with touch. (For those of you who’ve seen the movie, you know this. This is just for our friends who are unaware.)

RK900, or Nines, is very asexual. Not necessarily touch-repulsed, but touch-uninterested, unless it’ll make somebody else happy (namely, Gavin).

Gavin Reed is allosexual, but has a long, complicated history of abuse and psychological manipulation, most of it revolving around intimacy, and, as such, is extremely touch-repulsed. He does not allow people to get close to him.

Throughout the film, they’re very careful to keep physical distance between them, and if they’re forced to be close together, their body language is usually very closed off. Which lends this sense of relief to a pivotal moment in the film later. The very important exceptions are the moments in the Zen Garden, and moments of extreme duress.

Let’s break it down scene by scene.

We open on the Zen Garden. In this mindscape, we know Nines and Gavin behave as though they’re been married for several years. Their interactions are comfortable and familiar, though entirely imaginary, and this is where the use of touch and distance starts to show. Even though this Gavin does not have any of the same touch aversions as the real world Gavin, he keeps his distance from Nines, and Nines, in turn, does the same. When Gavin greets him, he’s standing ten or so feet away; when they walk together, Nines hangs back, and the both of them keep their hands in their pockets, avoiding direct eye contact. Obviously, any more romantic gestures are kept offscreen for audience suspense, but still, what’s shown is equally important. The two main exceptions to this rule are when Gavin reaches out to adjust Nines’s collar and when Nines reaches out to touch Gavin’s face. However, even when Gavin is unbuttoning Nines’s shirt, his arms are perfectly straight, leaving about two feet of space between them, and when Nines cups Gavin’s cheek, it’s not really a romantic gesture. It’s almost a reverential one, and he still leaves about a foot between them. This may not seem like a lot, but considering that this is Nines’s ideal world and even his deepest desires leave that space between them, it reveals how much relative distance matters with these two.

Onto the next scene. Protest. We start in the car, with Nines staring straight ahead, avoiding Gavin’s gaze. Gavin only touches Nines to shock him out of his trance with a gentle slap, then turns his body forward, effectively closing himself off. He maintains this distance, even straying almost twenty feet in front of Nines on their walk up. Here’s another major exception, a moment of extreme duress: Gavin takes Nines’s hand and guides him through the crowd, despite the fact that Nines could easily surpass any one of the protestors in a fight. Even here, however, Gavin keeps his back turned and does not make eye contact. For all he physically reaches out, emotionally, he’s incredibly closed off. Same deal inside Jericho; table between them, avoiding eye contact, careful distance. And even in a more lighthearted moment of banter (Nines mimicking Gavin’s delivery), Chris is standing between them as a physical mediator, and he remains between them the whole scene.

Onto the D.P.D. and the famous first instance of “I hate you.” “You love me.”!

When Nines brings Gavin his coffee, his body language is very open: arms spread, standing over Gavin. However, Nines is also intensely aware of his partner’s issues regarding physical proximity, and quickly draws away, clasping his hands behind his back and retreating ever so slightly to give Gavin his space. Once Nines has spun Gavin’s feet out of the way, they are closer, yes, but Gavin’s back is turned and Nines is careful not to lean in too close over his shoulder. They’re very closed off, and remain this way for much of the scene, never directly facing one another. Gavin stands up, spins counterclockwise to keep his back to Nines until he’s behind Nines, at which point he’s in control of the situation and flips Nines off. When they speak face to face, Gavin’s legs are kicked up on the table or he’s using the coffee mug as a sort of psychological shield. Nothing direct, nothing open.

STAKEOUT! This is a really good example of something Michelle does—that isn’t like other romance movies —that I really love. A common thing in a lot of romance movies is that “almost kiss,” but in a movie like this, where the main romance emphasizes a mental connection over a physical one, that sort of play would feel cheap and out of place. Which is why I love the stakeout scene so damn much. The stakeout is the perfect time for an “almost kiss” moment, BUT! What we get instead is so much better, with two people desperate to let their feelings out but too scared to fully voice them. So you get this awkward dance of them abstracting the concept and refusing to look at one another, deliberately avoiding eye contact. Both of them are faced forward and stay solidly in their seats, leaving as much space as they can allow, and the only times they look toward one another, the other is looking away. They can’t say what they feel unless there’s that protective bubble of space between them. So you get an “almost confessing I like you” scene, with beautiful moments of almost closing that physical distance, but instead staying firmly planted in their seats until Lazzo arrives. Even when Gavin and Nines are forced to be close together, they maintain a healthy distance between them, and their “almost kiss” is swapped out for an “almost admitting I have feelings” moment. (Plus, a bonus of great asexual dialogue, yay!)

Lazzo’s scene isn’t that notable, other than Nines’s and Gavin’s hands brushing on Lazzo’s shoulder, but again, Lazzo is between them and they’re focused on other things. Still got that distance.

The infamous jacket drape, one of the moments Nines breaks the pattern of distance. Gavin is still facing away from him, yes, but Nines deliberately reaches out to touch him in a non-invasive way, one of the only times he does so. Progress! Still a one-sided gesture, though, and even the height difference emphasizes the space between them, with Nines on his feet and Gavin slumped in a chair. Still not breaking that “arm’s length” amount they’ve set. (Tying this into the @high-on-otps‘s analysis about moments of vulnerability occurring when Gavin’s wearing fewer layers, Nines seeing Gavin in just a t-shirt and gifting him his jacket takes on a whole new meaning, with Nines almost stepping in to protect Gavin’s heart. Anyway, that’s a thought for another day.) On another note, this is also one of the two main instances where you see one of these two fools being open only because they think the other won’t notice: just a selfless gesture they don’t want to have to dwell on.

Now! Onto Gavin’s house, where the pattern starts to change. It’s a great way to track the progression of their relationship. They start out separated, with Nines pulled into himself, tablet held out, and Gavin hiding behind his computer, avoiding Nines’s eyes. However, I think this is when Gavin’s starting to realize that he might have feelings for Nines and the reverse might be true (hence his moment of contemplation in the car after he notes the parallel uses of the word “charming” as applying to him and Nines’s possible love interest), and being as tired as he is, his inhibitions are not necessarily gone, but at least hampered. So he allows himself to get close physically, and sort of mentally as well. He’s conflicted, and that’s written all over him, as he puts himself right up against Nines to steal his tablet, but also refuses to look him in the eye and quickly moves to stand up later. This conflict is also incredible to watch in general, but you can see his overwhelming desire to get closer and his defense mechanisms battling in his mind in how he sits: pressed up against Nines’s side, but none of his body overlaps with Nines’s at all, and he doesn’t look at him. Nines makes the first move, leaning his head almost onto Gavin’s shoulder, but not quite. They’re still not there yet. Of course, once Gavin leaves, he keeps his back turned, meeting Nines’s eyes once, for a split second, before entering his room and shutting the door. (And tosses him some gym shorts, of course, because nothing says “I love you” like “hey, you can borrow these sleep shorts.”)

Reentering Nines’s mindscape, we see a little more conflict from his end. (I love how we actually get visual representation of Nines’s internal conflict, while Gavin’s can only be gleaned from how he moves and holds himself. It’s a nice contrast. Frankly, I adore it. Good writing.) Once again, there’s still a fair amount of space between Nines and Zen Gavin, as Nines is burying his feelings in his work. The closest Zen Gavin comes is right behind Nines to talk about what Gavin might have been about to say before walking into his room, but he doesn’t make eye contact, and moves away quite quickly. When he is open and actually making direct eye contact, he’s standing over five feet away, and Nines deliberately turns away. You see? It’s a visual metaphor for the growing emotional tension! Yay!

Nightmare time! This is one of those moments of extreme duress I was talking about!! Also one of my favorite scenes! This is the first time, in the whole film, where all three of these criteria are present: physical proximity, open body language, and direct eye contact. Nines is holding Gavin’s arms, Gavin meets Nines’s eyes, and Gavin’s arms are spread out, not crossed over his chest or in front of his face. Obviously, this moment only lasts a second, as Gavin quickly moves Nines’s arms away, Nines backs up, and Gavin averts his eyes, but for an important beat, that distance was closed, only to be reopened again. Then, of course, they have their “should I stay” moment, where Gavin is sending mixed signals: body is turned toward Nines, but he looks away repeatedly, and Nines is standing a respectful distance away, waiting for permission to come closer or leave. Eventually, Gavin verbally and physically opens himself up: while he avoids looking directly at Nines, he keeps his arms at his sides and doesn’t turn away (huge steps for someone like Gavin), and as for Nines, he does the opposite, maintaining direct eye contact, but turning his body away to give Gavin the space he needs without pressuring him. When Gavin finally welcomes Nines into his bed, he’s making a huge step in his own personal growth. Similar to the couch setup from earlier, except reversed, with Gavin initiating the touch, and with two crucial differences: Nines and Gavin make the briefest of eye contact as they lean in (a silent agreement of “yes, this is a thing we’re doing”) and their bodies overlap. There is an intimate touch in the way they hold hands, fingers interlaced, instead of sitting ramrod straight side by side without making a conscious decision to reach out to the other. Add Nines retracting his skin on top of it, and you get an extremely psychologically open moment. A moment of duress, a moment of comfort (but they still aren’t facing each other yet, and the way it is now, it’s almost like Gavin’s afraid to acknowledge it, to believe it’s real).

NEXT MORNING. Hoo boy this one was a doozy, because it takes the openness of the night before and turns it on its head, twisting and distorting it. Gavin, before he’s awake, displays very physically open body language: spread out on his blankets, arms thrown out to the side up, stomach up. Nines is almost equally so, keeping his arms open as he hands Gavin his coffee and turning more towards him as he sits on Gavin’s bed. But Gavin, regretting the choices he made the previous night, avoids eye contact, curls into himself, and takes the earliest opportunity to put his back to Nines and retreat into the closet. His whole demeanor radiates “get away from me,” but of course, Nines hasn’t picked that up yet. So he presses a little closer, and Gavin makes his point by getting up in Nines’s space, but very deliberately avoiding looking at him and still keeping a couple feet of space. When Nines feels Gavin mentally retreating, he pushes his luck by abusing his commanding presence to intimidate Gavin into cooperation (drawing himself up to his whole height and putting his face right in Gavin’s eye-line). And what does Gavin do? When Nines gets in his space ("I'm not leaving just because you regret having acted like a person"), Gavin makes direct, meaningful eye contact (something he almost never does) and is facing Nines (another big thing), but every part of him screams "get away." In particular, the hands raised in front of his chest like a shield. The whole pose is supposed to look aggressive but every goddamn part of it belies him going into defensive mode. It's FASCINATING. He’s trying to intimidate Nines into leaving him alone because he is so scared of what Nines has seen and what he knows now. This conflict of wanting to accept Nines’s help and push him away is so clearly demonstrated in how part of his body language is geared toward Nines (the eye contact) and how part of is is blocking Nines from coming any closer (his raised hands). He holds this eye contact until Nines leaves.

The next time we see Gavin is back at Jericho, and anyone can sense the tension coming off these two (except, apparently, Chris Miller). They keep a table’s worth of distance between them. Nines, clearly still feeling snubbed from the night before, makes very pointed looks in Gavin’s direction; they’re barbed, full of accusation, very uncharacteristic of Nines, but Gavin did just tell him to wipe his memory, so he definitely believes it’s justified. Gavin avoids eye contact wherever possible, simply because he does not want to deal with this shit right now. I don’t know if he does this consciously, but after Nines’s reference to “last night,” he tucks his hand in his pocket, perhaps an unconscious recoil from Nines’s act of intimacy (holding hands), suppressing that. Cut to them standing in the hallway, Gavin is standing with his arms crossed, looking away, while Nines leans in closer with a much more open stance. He continues probing and Gavin shuts him out entirely, not even deigning to look at him properly before turning his back and walking away. This is one of the tensest moments of their relationship, where Nines is trying to build up the trust they had and Gavin is feeling hurt and betrayed and confused and is falling back on his coping mechanism of shutting people out. The physical distance and body language between them reflects that.

Onto Burn’s Alley! This whole setup is interesting; it’s a social situation in which Gavin and Nines are almost required to interact, as they have a shared obligation to make Chris’s promotion party a pleasant experience, but the tension from the previous night is definitely still bleeding into their conversation. Although they’re crowded around the same table, they put several people between them and focus intently on their drinks and their other friends, never directly addressing one another and avoiding eye contact (again, this movie might as well be subtitled “the one where Nines and Gavin can never actually look at each other for one goddamn second”). Once Ada arrives, Nines makes fast excuses and leaves the conversation, at which point they go back to their previous dance of throwing longing glances at one another when the other isn’t watching. Very good, much yearning. More internal conflict, Gavin can’t deal with his own warring desires of apologizing and running away, so he retreats outside, and Nines follows because now’s his chance to rebuild that trust he lost.

I’m classifying the alley argument as a whole new section because it’s honestly a caliber all its own and deserves a separate analysis. The use of distance here is so good. Nines, though eager to be allowed back into Gavin’s space, is respectful of his partner’s boundaries and situates himself across the alley, though his posture is more open, with his hands behind his back and a gentle lean forward (though this openness is quickly shut down once Gavin snaps at him, you can see Nines’s face fall, and it hurts). Gavin, on the other hand, is violently looking away, body turned in a completely different direction; every part of his posture is unapproachable. And as the argument progresses, we get more of that weaponized distance closing. When Gavin snaps at Nines (”Don’t bother.”), he finally makes eye contact, even keeping his posture more open (arms at his sides, face toward Nines, body mostly angled toward Nines), so Nines is, for the first time, able to properly see all the hurt Gavin’s been bottling up. And Nines steps closer. But, his hackles are raised, shoulders tensed, arms clenched tightly at his sides. They’re both spilling their hearts out, but it’s bitter and cruel and even at their closest, there’s still a foot and a half of space between their chests. When Gavin spits smoke in Nines’s face, the recoil is immediate, and Nines takes his leave of Gavin as Gavin turns away from Nines again. Once again, in a moment of emotional duress, they get closer and closer, but never quite close that gap, but this time, like that morning, the openness is weaponized and aggressive, with Gavin trying to force Nines away by saying “This is me, this is all you’re gonna get, so you might as well run” and Nines trying to get back in by saying “I don’t care, you will listen to me and you will let me care for you.” But because of the violent mannerisms, it backfires. And then the distance grows again.

Watching Nines walk Ada home from the bar, Gavin keeps a huge amount of distance between himself and Nines, both because he doesn’t want to be spotted and because he can’t bring himself to come any closer. With his hood up and hands in his pockets, he’s at his most closed off of the film, and because Nines’s back is to him, it’s obvious to see he’s being shut out, or at least feels like he is. At this moment in time, Ada is the literal and metaphorical wedge between them. Her presence is keeping them apart.

Alley ambush time. This scene. Oh man this scene. Aside from the blatantly romantic reunion scene and balcony scene, this scene has about the most touch and is a perfect narrative foil to Gavin’s nightmare. (I can’t believe I just realized that now, while I was typing this. Michelle, you are a goddamn genius, every major moment has a companion, mirrored moment; Nines giving Gavin his jacket, Gavin doing his speech to Nines and leaving his jacket there; Nines comforting Gavin after his nightmare of dying alone, Gavin comforting Nines and staying by his side to ensure he doesn’t die alone; parallel confessions in the car; of course, “I hate you” “You love me,” there’s the obvious parallel; Gavin initiating a kiss in the reunion, Nines being the one to move first on the balcony; they each get their own moment to shine in the same context and it is beautiful. Hats off to you, Michelle Iannantuono, really. Okay, back to the plot.) Gavin’s body language is at the most vulnerable it’s been all film, because Nines is in danger and he’s panicking. But even with his hands cupped around Nines’s face, Gavin keeps a little bit of distance, that same bare minimum “arm’s length” we see so many times. And the questions he asks are non-invasive, once he realizes that mentioning Ada just freaks Nines out, and then the questions just turn to pleas: “Don’t fall asleep.” Only after Nines falls unconscious does Gavin allow himself to get any closer, but even then he doesn’t let himself be face to face with Nines. The first thing Gavin does is turn Nines’s back to him, forcing that emotional distance, the exception being the arm slung across Nines’s chest to keep him upright. This is the closest they’ve been, other than after Gavin’s nightmare, and Gavin is still keeping that emotional distance by deliberately pushing Nines away from him.

Onto CyberLife. Here’s the other instance where they’re only open when they believe the other won’t know. This shit also hurt like a motherfucker because Gavin’s internal conflict is at its peak here. You can see he’s having a, for lack of a better word for it, “deathbed” moment; a sort of “now or never” feeling. He’s terrified of acknowledging how he feels, much less verbalizing those feelings to the man he loves, but at the same time, he’s worried that if he doesn’t do it now, he may never get a chance. And this is demonstrated wonderfully in how Gavin approaches Nines (and, once again, he’s down to one layer of clothing, just a simple t-shirt). At first, he hangs back from Nines’s hospital bed, looking anywhere but Nines’s face, and talking about how they need Nines for the case; vague, impersonal, dancing around the topic. Until Tina knocks on the window, basically giving him silent permission to switch tracks entirely. It’s at this point that Gavin closes some distance and parallels Nines’s earlier gesture after his nightmare, when Nines reached out to hold his hand; he reaches out and places his hand over Nines’s. (Also, another brilliant parallel? Nines reaching out to touch Gavin when he’s at his lowest point—after his nightmare—and holding his hand, basically saying “I accept you,” and Gavin reaching out to Nines when he’s at his most vulnerable—doubly powerful because Nines’s skin is deactivated and Gavin used to hate androids, so seeing him like this is his truest form—at the hospital, basically saying “I accept you.” God. Poetic cinema, my dudes.) Even moves the chair closer. And then he finally looks Nines in the face and spills his heart and soul out to him, piece by piece. And even when the heart monitor starts beeping, he doesn’t pull away. He keeps his hand firmly planted, only scoots back in the chair for a moment to check the machines, before immediately pulling back in and deliberately staying close, which, for somebody who has as toxic a relationship with touch as he does, is massive. (And, as we saw from the deleted scene, he felt safe enough to fall asleep on Nines’s bed. He looked at this shitty situation and said “I trust him” and put his goddamn head on Nines’s arm and fell asleep. Like. FUCK.)

And now, Nines’s corrupted Zen Garden. This is one of the most powerful moments of the film. In the past, Nines has almost never been the one to initiate contact with Zen Gavin, it’s always been the other way around (Gavin fixing Nines’s collar, Gavin approaching him while he’s analyzing the case), with the notable exception being Nines reaching out to cup Gavin’s cheek. But he’s internalized Gavin’s touch sensitivities so much that even his mind palace version displays the same behaviors, only initiating touch when he’s comfortable. Nines doesn’t violate Zen Gavin’s space either, lets Gavin decide what’s okay. And this is where he breaks that pattern. In his panic, Nines rushes forward without thought to envelope Gavin in a desperate hug— and is met with empty air. The minute Nines tries to reverse their dynamic is when he’s deprived of Gavin’s touch. Because of Ada’s meddling, Nines can no longer interact with this perfect world he’s constructed, and Gavin is, once again, just out of reach. Nine spends the rest of the conversation with his body language painfully open, pleading with Gavin to stay using everything but his words, and I think it speaks goddamn volumes that when he finally agrees to delete him, there is no grand gesture. Nines doesn’t swoop in and kiss Zen Gavin goodbye, nor does he hug him, or even say a proper farewell. He simply nods, turns his back, and walks away, and Gavin, after a moment’s lag, swivels his head to watch, with a soft smile on his face. Nines has realized that this Zen Gavin is a fool’s errand that he cannot hope to sustain, and his last act before wiping him entirely is to metaphorically say “I am done with you. I am walking away and I am not looking back and I am saying goodbye.” Which is so goddamn powerful, I cannot.

Okay. The moment we’ve all been waiting for.

The reunion scene.

This scene hits so much harder because all the previous scenes have kept so much distance between the two protagonists. If there had been more instances of close proximity earlier in the film, I don’t think this scene would carry the same weight it did, but as such, up until this point, there’s always been at least a foot or two of space between Gavin and Nines (and in the instances of them touching, they’re either side by side and not looking at each other or front to back and not looking at each other). But I digress, let’s get into it properly.

Setup time! Gavin’s still in just his t-shirt, Nines is in Gavin’s jacket (Narrative foil from earlier, baby!), and tensions are high. Brushing past all of Tina and Chris’s intervening dialogue, let’s talk physicality. Gavin fucking freezes the minute Nines is in the room, arms held at his sides, the most open his stance has ever been when Nines was awake to see it. Nines, in turn, also keeps his hands to the side. Gavin, disbelieving, takes a step forward, but because he’s also terrified as fuck that Nines heard him and will reject him, he holds out a halfway defensive arm, though there’s not much conviction in it, as its merely held halfway up and doesn’t cross in front of his torso at all. Nines continues to approach, although slowly, so as not to scare Gavin off, because Nines cares so much for Gavin and the last thing he needs is to make him panic, not when something this monumental is at stake. Gavin, with even more internal conflict, continues his approach, daring to hope that maybe this will turn out okay, until Nines says “I heard you.” The realization that Nines essentially saw the deepest darkest parts of him makes Gavin take a step back, but he also maintains the eye contact they’ve been holding; the subtle balance between “I want to run because holy fuck he saw too much, but also I want to stay because I think it might be it this time” is so gorgeous. Of course, once Nines makes it clear that he isn’t running, even though he heard Gavin’s entire confession, Gavin gets slightly more confident and moves forward again. Drawing from the BTS footage as well, you can see Gavin’s hands are clenched the entire time, until he makes it to Nines, when he can finally let go. And finally, with a cognizant mind, they close that distance, leaving mere inches from one another. Gavin reaches out to touch Nines’s hand, feeling his pulse, before gently turning over Nines’s hand so he can feel Gavin’s pulse. Nines, reflecting his earlier gesture, connects Zen Gavin to this Gavin by reaching out to cup Gavin’s face. And then they close that gap entirely and kiss. But it gets even better because, though Nines prods, it’s ultimately Gavin that makes the first move, and I think it always had to to be. Because Nines always lets Gavin move on his own time, even if he steers him in the right direction, occasionally. It would feel wrong if Nines moved first, because he doesn’t need to kiss for romance, but is willing to do so if Gavin wants, and the way this is done, it’s so clear that Gavin wants. This is just a testament to the amazing actors for portraying this so clearly (I know this scene’s been analyzed seven ways to Sunday, but like. The way Gavin’s eyebrows furrow up in the sheer desperation to be closer? The gentle sigh of relief from Nines? The single spin of the LED from yellow to blue the instant they connect? The way Gavin, someone who hates being touched, chases the fucking kiss as Nines pulls away? Like?? Incredible???). And even better, this whole scene is very much a give and take, as both characters let down the barriers they have built up.

Let me put it this way. Nines’s greatest treasure is his mind, and he protects it fiercely for fear of abuse. Gavin’s greatest treasure is his bodily autonomy, and as such, he protects himself from unwanted touch for fear of that autonomy being taken away. And this kiss is such a dialogue of back and forth, give and take. Nines exposes his mind (”I heard you. ‘A force you can’t live without’?” and of course, “You love me.”), opening up his most vulnerable part of himself. Gavin responds in kind by exposing his physicality, by taking Nines’s hand. Nines, once again, exposes his mind by copying his gesture from Zen Gavin, bringing to light one of his most closely guarded secrets and connecting his mind to his real world experiences. And Gavin exposes his touch, once more, by being the one to initiate the kiss.

If you’ll allow me to circle back to the parallel hand-holding from earlier, it ties into this idea of “mind vs. body.” When Nines takes Gavin’s hand after his nightmare, he is demonstrating that he accepts Gavin’s mind. Nines, who values intellect and personality above all else, demonstrates that he loves Gavin for his mind and not his body here, saying “I accept you and your mind, no matter how flawed you think it is.” Gavin, on the other hand, not only has a rough history with androids, but a rough history with physicality. When he takes Nines’s hand at CyberLife, Gavin is demonstrating that he accepts Nines’s body as it is—metal and plastic and synthskin, not flesh and bone—basically saying “I accept you and your body, no matter how flawed you think it is.” They are able to accept the closely guarded facets of one another in moments of heightened emotion and I think that’s incredible.

And after the reunion, the body language is so different. Nines willingly gets up in Gavin’s space without Gavin pushing him away (leaning over him to discuss how to track Ada down), and, of course, gives him his jacket back. Outside Ada’s warehouse, they stand much closer together, nearly touching on the hood of the car, and even make much more deliberate eye contact, shying away less. But what I really like about it is that they don’t do a total 180. That’s not how recovery works. Gavin’s still facing away from Nines during the briefing, Gavin and Nines are closer on the hood, yes, but neither Nines nor Gavin reach out a hand to touch. They’re making little baby steps and it’s wonderful.

Last but not least, the balcony. The culmination of all this.

Despite all they’ve been through, Gavin and Nines still hold distance between themselves on the balcony, though they’re a little freer with the direct eye contact and body language. Gavin’s arms are no longer crossed in front of him, he actually looks toward Nines a lot more. Nines is leaned up against the railing, facing Gavin and meeting his gaze, though you can tell Nines is bothered because his arms are crossed in front of him, preventing him from being totally open. And when he starts to say something that sounds like regret, Gavin also crosses his arms in a defensive position, until Nines reassures him that it’s not Gavin, it’s him. At which point, Gavin is the most vocal he’s ever been about his feelings (I think Michelle pointed out this is the one time in the film Gavin even slightly alludes to Nines being attractive, like the dork he is) and assures Nines that he doesn’t need anything sexual to make this relationship be one he wants to pursue. He keeps his body language remarkably open, turning to face Nines entirely and keeping his arms to the side. Nines, upon realizing Gavin means what he says, has his moment of initiating touch and reaches out to cup Gavin’s face again, uncrossing his arms to do so. There’s yet another beautiful genuine moment of connection where the opposite of the original kiss happens: Nines opens up physically (regarding his interfacing), Gavin opens up mentally (flirting with Nines as opposed to just awkwardly touching him), and Nines closes the distance once more, kissing Gavin as the sun sets just out of frame, turning Gavin’s face into the light. Yet another beautiful narrative foil. Stunning. Ideal. (Also, a note on the confession, the fact that this kiss cements the idea that “This won’t be easy, but it will be worth it, because being with you is just better” just kills me every goddamn time. They’re really willing to put in the work to make this relationship work! Which is amazing!) And then they linger, foreheads pressed together, in the most intimate display of affection in the entire movie. Soft smiles, hands on bodies, completely open and vulnerable and free. Just ... content.

All in all, hats off for really emphasizing each character’s troubled relationship with touch and how that carries over into how they behave around one another. From how Gavin uses his hands and other items as shields while making direct eye contact to how Nines lets Gavin come to him and respects his partner’s boundaries so much that even his brain version of him has these same boundaries, the use of distance and touch and their slow journey to getting physically closer in the spaces they occupy is a fantastic way of showing the progression of their relationship and I consider it an honor to get to see this story unfold. The fact that Nines’s journey would be meaningless without Gavin’s to mirror it and amplify it and vice versa is testimony to the incredible writing showcased here. Bravo to the cast and crew, really.

Tl;dr (and honestly, I wouldn’t blame you) The moments of intimacy only carry as much weight as they do because in every scene prior to them Gavin and Nines hold meaningful distance between them and the only times they break that subliminal pattern are in times of extreme stress or vulnerability.

[loveislattes]

NSFW Alphabet - Chase Brody

These are all personal opinions of mine. Of course, others might see it differently, but I hope you all enjoy the read no matter what!

(Re-post! The original got removed because I had an actual sex gif in here, so now there’s just a link!)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Chase is the biggest cuddle bug known to man. Whether you were having a rough go at it or making love, he wants to be sure you’re sated and comfortable. From kissing to gentle muscle massages, you’ll never want. If he can’t fall asleep himself, he’ll at least stay until he’s sure your out for the count, and tuck you in after.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Chase’s favorite body part of himself would probably be his arms or his abs. He works out to keep in shape and he’s mighty proud of it. He absolutely melts when you tell him how much you enjoy his body.

His favorite body part on you is a tie between your smile and your eyes. He swears he can see your soul shining in your eyes when you make eye contact with him, and he can literally get lost in his thoughts when you smile at him. He loves being the one to make you smile and laugh.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves coming inside you. He understands that certain situations might not always make it possible, and he’ll use protection for those occurrences, but if he had his way, he’d be able to fill you with his cum every time.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a darker side he doesn’t like to let out often. With how often the fans come at him for being Anti’s puppet, he tries to keep any dark thoughts or wishes to himself, but sometimes he just has to let loose. Those nights end with consensual bruises, bite marks, and aching bodies for you both.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s pretty experienced. From his prior marriage and some random hookups before, he knows quite well how to please his lover. He’s also eager to learn new things or your favorite things in order to make it that much better for you.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Missionary, where he can bury his face in your neck and press every inch of his body as close to you as possible! ChaseFavoritePositionGif

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Chase is always a bit of a goofball, so you can expect him to be just the same in bed as in that he doesn’t take himself too seriously. He likes to keep it fun, enjoyable, and loving.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Chase keeps himself trimmed up.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

While he’s the master of keeping the situation light, he’s also a pro at letting the passion flow between the two of you. He’s always sure to remind you just how much he loves you and feels blessed to be with you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He has quite the high sex drive but knows that you need time for yourself as well. He jacks off whenever there’s more than a day or two between getting to have you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise kink to the max! He loves hearing what he does to you. Whether it’s just screams or even literal praises, he eats it all up like candy.

Breeding/Impregnation kink! Even if you can’t/won’t get pregnant with him, he loves to act out the scene. The thought of filling you with his cum and fantasizing that you could actually become pregnant with his baby turns him on like no other.

Submission! While he can be dominant at times, he most often loves to be a bit more submissive. It’s not always to the point where he’s on his knees begging you, but more so letting you take the reigns and take what you need from him.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Chase is up for anywhere as long as he is able to take his time with you. One of his favorites outside of the bedroom is the kitchen counter or the kitchen table. Something about it is taboo and he loves it.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Praise, praise, praise! Reminding him how good he made you feel last night, complimenting him on how good he looks that day, telling him how proud you are of how hard he works, anything of the sort just perks him up… in more ways than one.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Dub/NonCon. He wants and needs pure, open, honest communication of your consent and what you’re okay with.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Giving. While he loves receiving, something about pleasing his lover is better than any pleasure he could get.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

It varies. He enjoys both a quick hard fuck and slow gentle lovemaking, depending on his mood and the day.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He prefers having more time, but he’s not averse to a quickie in the car or the back of the office if time is short.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Chase is open to experimenting! As long as it doesn’t involve either of you actually getting hurt or anything where you can’t give full consent, he’s all about it.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

His stamina is pretty average. 1-2 rounds is about his max before a good rest.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He owns toys for both himself and you. He’s not ashamed to have an interest in being pleasured in different ways and is very accommodating for you to do the same.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chase is a god damn tease! He knows he’s hot and he knows how he affects you. A little wink and a slap to your ass are very common when he’s around you, and he’s always stealing away a few moments to whisper a dirty sentence or two in your ear if he has the time.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Loud boi! Just as he likes hearing it, he’s big on giving praise. He’s not one to silence his moans or screams when you’re blowing his mind.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Chase has voiced a possible interest in a threesome in the future. He hasn’t put any plans in concrete yet, but he’s said he’s willing to try with another female or male as long as your willing. He’s researched (and by that, I mean watched porn of course) the topic and loves how satisfied the participants end up being.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Chase is pretty average, but a bit thicker than normal with a bit of an up curve. He fills you just right.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is quite high. He’d be happy to have sex twice a day if there is time, but he’s able to hold out at least a day or two before he feels the urge to jack off between sessions.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He usually falls asleep quite easily after making sure you’re happy and comfortable.

[timedriving]

rip/ donna

send me a ship and i’ll tell you… ( accepting )

who hogs the duvet i think it’s a fair bit of struggling that eventually ends in donna’s favour because... rip can’t win even if he tries. LMAO. he gives up after waking up for the third time that evening but donna looks so comfy he’s like... all right. this is fine. i’m content with this

who texts/rings to check how their day is going rip does check-ins more often, but donna’s more likely to text when she’s got something on her mind, random or otherwise. rip doesn’t really understand the concept of “random texting when you’re bored” and doesn’t want to suffocate her or anything

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts donna is better at intentional gifts, and rip does things that don’t SEEM like gifts to him, but totally are. an explanation of the latter is something along the lines of “rip taking donna on a surprise trip to go camping in arizona where they can look up at the stars and map out constellations together and also he made food and ALSO he’s got proper camping gear and he’s been thinking about this for weeks... what do you mean this is a date?”

who gets up first in the morning donna is probably one of the few people in the world who can wake up at the same hour as rip and not feel tired or grouchy at the godawful hour. this means rip gets to draw her in cotton candy sunrises and donna gets to show him the world she lives in before it all properly wakes up, and it makes the whole thing kind of ridiculously magic also, neither of them have to wait for the other to have breakfast together.

who suggests new things in bed donna! it’s not that rip’s not as enthusiastic, but more that physical intimacy in general is an adventure to him already. also, i imagine donna’s experience with society means that she gets a lot more inspiration for this sort of thing than rip would get at the vanishing point? the most kink he has is liking to blindfold his partners or bind them with simple ties. it’s donna who ends up suggesting her lasso, for one thing

who cries at movies do..nna...?? between the two of them her empathy’s developed a lot more than rip’s has. but his interactions with her and the films they end up watching together do help him build his own empathy! i like to think the first movie he properly cries at the end at is the matrix revolutions. i don’t know why i imagined them watching the matrix revolutions. anyway it astounds him to think neo could love machines so much he gives his life to save them just as he saves humanity (rip related more to the machines in this case, too.........)

who gives unprompted massages i keep answering donna for these things, but rip doesn’t really know that this is a thing! he’ll comes back from an assignment tense because it’d been a close call, and then she’ll kiss the back of his neck whilst he sits down and work his shoulders and rip kind of just melts under her touch (but, let’s be real, he melts around her all the time because he’s so smitten-- this is just his body finally matching up with his mind)

who fusses over the other when they’re sick i don’t think donna gets sick very often? and while she takes care of rip it’s not necessarily fussing either, but a bit more-- she knows what she’s doing, having come from a place where caring for each other is the common mantra, and he feels kind of ridiculous having someone be so tender and kind with him, but he really does feel like he’s cared for (a rare sensation overall)

who gets jealous easiest FINALLY i am answering rip. but rip’s got a big of possessive canine instinct going on, all fang-bearing and whatever if donna’s ever being threatened. he doesn’t care about playful flirting with, like, friends or anything, but strangers out in the open better WATCH OUT... not that rip’s the type to beat up strangers but. he’ll think about it. he’ll think about it hard until donna’s the one who shoots them down. and then seeing her shoot them down will make rip want to pull her aside and kiss her because he uh. he sucks

who has the most embarrassing taste in music rip doesn’t have a taste in music? but i can’t imagine donna’s to be EMBARRASSING to him... if anything he’ll be awed with whatever her music tastes are because. you listen to these things for pleasure? you enjoy them? i enjoy them because you enjoy them. these lyrics sure are something. it’s funny how i know what instruments are playing individually but i never thought they’d sound like this altogether the idea that donna introduces him to the music of the 90′s/00′s is really fucking sweet actually........... he only ever listened to music for stock knowledge, but it’d be wild to lie down with her and listen to something just for the sake of listening to music together

who collects something unusual rip isn’t allowed to own things at the vanishing point, so the fact he finds a home in donna means her room probably houses his postal stamp collection... and, okay, postal stamp collecting isn’t the SEXIEST hobby, but 1) it doesn’t take up much space; and 2) it’s rip’s gateway drug to collection/hoarding, anyway. she’s got the scrapbook he uses kept away in a drawer and sometimes rip makes his own stamps out of souvenirs he takes from his missions

who takes the longest to get ready donna, who really makes an effort! and rip with his minute attention to detail always notices when she has a new shade of eyeshadow or lipstick or something. he finds it genius how she can make her look change so much... on his own end, rip doesn’t know how to change his look. i figure in this stage of his life, he mostly defaults to shirts and jeans, so he’s pretty useless and basic. on the rare occasions that he wants to dress up nice for her, however, he will take forever... because he doesn’t know how to be handsome enough to deserve her, whyyyyyy

who is the most tidy and organised donna! but then, donna actually has stuff TO organise. rip, who owns nothing, wouldn’t have a clue if he did have something. all he knows is how to keep his living space at the vanishing point clean, but that’s like... the most basic of the basic things

who gets most excited about the holidays donna is really excited to share her traditions, and rip is excited to partake in them with her. he sheepishly tells her that he doesn’t have his own holidays; he doesn’t even know when his nameday is, so. (but she’ll insist they choose a date just so they can celebrate it, and he’s horrifically shy about it because... you want a day... just to celebrate him?)

who is the big spoon/little spoon OOOHHHH AN ANSWER WHERE I CAN SAY THEY’RE HAPPY BEING EITHER... rip has a bigger tendency to big spoon though because he likes the feeling of having his arms wrapped around her, but at this point in his life he’s not jaded or traumatised enough to be extremely touch averse, especially with the first love of his life i think donna has an innate sense of knowing when rip’s feeling especially drained and will tell him to lie down when she does, at which point she’ll come up behind him and hold him and rip will just sigh because donna thinks of everything... what a genius

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports oh god this is destructive shit. people get bored of watching them play ping-pong because it lasts FOREVER. and the thing is they’re both like, killer focused on it, so they’re not even hurling insults at each other or teasing or anything-- they’re both in it to win it and it’s a wonder donna hasn’t obliterated the ping-pong ball yet with her strength

who starts the most arguments i like to think that rip’s more likely to get angry about things, but not necessarily about them as a couple? it’s more like he’ll be more confrontational when they’re disrespected in public or something-- he’s got the temper of a leashed dog, again, and it’s not like his canines are weirdly pointed because he shouldn’t bite for all their youth i think they’re both old souls who know too well about understanding to start any stupid arguments. imagine having a healthy honest relationship wow

who suggests that they buy a pet i think rip mentions it kind of off-handedly and donna laughs like “why?” and rip’s reasoning is just, like, he’ll see other couples walk a dog together... maybe it’d be nice if they walked a dog together, too and it’s the softest thing on the planet, but they aren’t together enough to warrant owning a dog together, so they don’t end up getting one it’s nice to imagine, though

what couple traditions they have they seem the type to have a secret handshake from when they were still just friends? which was actually a secret handshake that adult!rip had taught kid!donna when they first met years ago, in a sort of time loop sort of thing because young adult!donna ends up teaching it to young adult!rip... you know, one of those “perfect circle” things. the only difference now is that the handshake ends with a kiss

what tv shows they watch together i think donna makes an effort to find shows that rip would find genuine interest in, since he so rarely has time to be around and she wants to make the most of it? but they have a nice mix of humour and romcom and action/adventure... she’ll discover that rip really, really likes westerns, too, and rip will be surprised that that’s a whole GENRE, holy shit?? where can they see MORE of that????? i want them to watch the nanny though.........

what other couple they hang out with god the thought of a dickkory + ripdonna double date is actually really cool to me? kori’ll take him flying and rip’s going to be like ACK and dick’s all jokingly like “you’re dating a serious nerd, donna” and she’s just. she knows. she knows... but he’s the sweetest man she’s ever met and yes, grayson, that means he’s sweeter than you! rip’s going to be just as good at darts as dick though and dick’s going to be like DUDE... FOR REAL?

how they spend time together as a couple it’s suuuuuper gross, but they! like! touching! and not even, like, dirty touching, but holding hands is pretty usual for them, and so is dropping kisses here and there, even if it’s not going to start anything. it’s a serious cliche puppy love sort of thing?? like rip will like keeping his arm around her, too, and donna will like having her head in his lap, and for indoor hobbies especially, they can do separate things (e.g. donna watching a movie and rip reading a book) but still be connected in this way if rip had his way he would be able to be around her all the time, too

who made the first move rip does, but it’s not like... outwardly flirtatious or anything (he’s useless!). he just, y’know, drops compliments here and there... looks a bit shy when he does it... and donna’s no idiot, she knows he likes her, and eventually grins and calls him out on it and rip’s like “I DON’T-- yeah okay i do want very much to take you out to dinner, can i?” and donna’s laughing at how sheepish he is and kissing him on the cheek like “yes, rip” and rip’s like “REALLY? i mean, erm-- outstanding! that’s outstanding, yeah”

who brings flowers home rip will come home from long assignments with gifts, ok! and sometimes those gifts include flowers. he studies flower language in his free time so he can do it properly for her, but i think with them real flowers aren’t so important... so rip will give origami bouquets

who is the best cook rip knows how to cook more things with expertise because of his job, but i think overall he prefers donna’s cooking. there’s something so kind and warm about eating food made by someone who cares for you... that being said, he likes to cook for her, too, and for all his gourmet knowledge he still just makes simple things, because i imagine donna the type to see the value of comfort food and for rip to have the same sentiments

[sasorikigai]

Hanzo Hasashi NSFW Headcanon Masterlist!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Hanzo is extremely cuddly as he values physical intimacy. After sex, he’s in this exquisite, seraphic bliss, would be most likely be sleepy, and wants absolutely nothing more than to get cozy, warm, and as close to his lover as possible in bed. He won't sleep though for a while, as he's most likely still coming down from the reeling high, but just wants to trace shapes on his lover’s body, and talk for awhile before he’s being lulled to Morpheus’ grasp.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his lover’s lips. Everything about them; the way they smile, how gently they kiss him, how pretty they look wrapped around his length. With a female lover, Hanzo is definitely a connoisseur of lower body parts, especially the voluptuous lines of the narrow waist, then the gentle curve of the cheeks, down to the beautiful lines of her legs, while with a male lover, he is more about the security of strong arms and upper body strength. Regardless of the gender, Hanzo is all about the aesthetics and how his lover carries himself, and also regardless of their size and confidence, he is supportive of appreciating every body part of his lover’s, because emotional connection is pivotal and prerequisite before he delves into physical, carnal aspect of their relationship. 

The most favorite parts of his own body is definitely his eyes and arms. The depth of his eyes are so expressive and intense that even without vocalizations, Hanzo can convey his thoughts and emotions. He has worked really hard to sculpt his muscles (he trains majority of day and even without weight training to chisel a particular part of his arm muscles, the mastery of the Shirai Ryu secret - katana and chained kunai, but the latter being his character-defining weapon that not even one can remotely match his skills, because he’s just too damn excellent at it) and he doesn’t shy himself from showing his sculpted, chiseled form.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Since Hanzo has strong aversion with one-night stands or casual sex that does not lead anywhere, when he cums, he wants it to be especially meaningful and sacred. He is really not a fan of releasing elsewhere, besides the folds of his lover’s sex (regardless of gender) and maybe on his abdomen or in his pants if he ever decides to masterbate and/or has a wet dream, which is a rarity. He would not mind to come inside his lover’s mouth if that is his or her proclivity. He just is not all that much experienced when it comes to explorative part of lovemaking, but regardless, he will try almost everything at least once. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Edging, depending on how much patience he can exert and how much virility and stamina he could exhibit, and marking, especially when he feels more dominant, though Hanzo is extremely careful when it comes to making sure to not hurt his partner. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He has a few lovemaking experiences with Harumi, but that’s about it. He is not all that much for exploration and taking a variety of sexual positions. All that he’s comfortable is with good old missionary, or taking his lover from the back, and perhaps a cowgirl if his significant other is more of a dominant. Because having a semblance of control is pivotal for Hanzo’s psyche, it would be rare if he explores beyond what he is comfortable with. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

The Grip

Similar to the missionary position, the grip requires the person to lay on his/her back and raise his/her hips slightly (it may be more comfortable to place a cushion under his/her bottom). The man then places himself between her legs, while she moves her pelvis side to side.

The Toad

The man/woman lies back with his/her legs open, while the man lies between his/her legs and slowly penetrates him/her. For greater intimacy, he/she can wrap his/her legs around him and control the pressure of his grinding by gently pressing on his buttocks with his/her feet.

The Snail

The man/woman lies on her back and pulls his/her knees up to his/her chest. The man kneels down and enters him/her. He/She can then rest his/her feet on his shoulders, while he supports himself with his hands either side of his/her shoulders. The penetration is very deep in his sex position, so be careful not to go too fast as it may cause pain for the man/woman.

The Sphinx

The man/woman lies on his/her front with her weight on her elbows. He/She stretches one leg out and bends the other to the side. The man lays on top and can penetrate from behind while leaning on his hands for support.

The Zen Pause

This position is ideal if you need to slow down the pace during a long sex session. The man and the woman both lay on their sides facing each other. The man enters the man/woman as he/she wraps her legs around him.

A tiring position for the man, but worth it for the man/woman as the pressure of his body on his/her pelvis helps her to climax. Simple and an ideal sex position for a slower pace of lovemaking.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s the epitome of a serious stoic. It’s extremely difficult to crack jokes with him, even in his most pleasant mood. Lovemaking with him is a sacred, serious affair and it should be treated with the respect and honor, just like any other endeavors. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Hanzo does not have much body hair anywhere else (armpits, arms, and legs), but he has an ample amount as one descends down his chiseled abdomen, leading his pelvis and pubic area. He’s neatly trimmed, as he is with his beard. His pubic hair is thick, dark, black, tame and neat looking. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Intimacy is literally everything to him when lovemaking is considered. Body language, especially stroking his hair, the side of his face, lips, neck, trailing your fingers along the length of his boy.... He loves every aspect of it. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He should be not ashamed about it or tries to hide it, but since the Shirai Ryu’s welfare and his family had been everything to him in his life, he is rather sheepish and embarrassed about admitting the fact that he occasionally jerks off. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Loves choking and marking him/her when he feels especially dominant. He is obviously hesitant to do it at first, because Hanzo is extremely considerate and sensual and does not want to hurt his lover, of course. But after a while he gives in, and choking and being dominantly thrusting into his/her sex is now his number one kink. He loves feeling his lover’s throat move beneath his fingers and watching him/her in overwhelming delirium. That incites him even more as his thrust would grow more relentless. 

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

It has to be secluded and private, period. So it will be the most conventional places, most likely in his bed. He does not mind to do it against the wall or on the floor, but as most often, he’s concerned about your safety and comfort. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Sensual buildup, mapping the coordinates of his body and slowly inciting him up until he’s rock hard. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything remotely humiliating and degrading, for both parties. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He’s much more inclined to give than receive. While he lacks the scope of multitudes of experiences, Hanzo is extremely skilled with his tongue and very considerate and careful. All he wants to do is pleasure you and send you over the edge. He will not cum until his partner does. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Although he can be slow, he's usually quite deep and rough, but not too rough to make things uncomfortable and hurt his partner, unless you ask specifically. Hanzo most definitely prefers things to take time, build up from intimacy and sensuality before they reach the throes of relentless delirium. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He much more prefers drawn-out, slow lovemaking than quickies. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Hanzo has a reputation to uphold and he won’t risk anything that would get him caught, unless their relationship is already known in the Shirai Ryu. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can go for as long as you want to. It doesn't take him long to get hard again, but during a typical sex session, Him and his lover both will most likely cum around two to three times.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No, no and no. He would rather go without and do it properly, period. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It’s just... he isn’t very good at teasing. Hanzo’s rather straightforward, and he isn’t used to initiating things, either, unless a perfect opportunity comes and his emotions/feelings and sensitivities overwhelm and/or Hanzo is sure that his feelings will be reciprocated. As the relationship progresses, he is much more at ease and lax. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Hanzo is relatively on the quiet side, and for most of the lovemaking, it’s just his panting and occasional grunts as he thrusts into you that permeate the atmosphere. He makes soft gentle moans when you first get going, but as he's about to cum, he makes these gorgeous grunts, that could probably get you off on their own. Even as a submissive, he is on the quiet side, but there will be more moans and groans, as his lips will velcroe to either kiss as he’s being taken, or attempt to quiet down from making guttural, dusky noises. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Hanzo doesn’t lack when it comes to girth and length. His flaccid penis is about 4.3 inches, while his erect penis is 7.2 inches, and the girth of his flaccid penis is about 3.5 inches, while his erect girth is 5.2 inches. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He is uncircumcised, his shaft is curved slightly upward and pretty veiny. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Generally has low to average sex drive, for he could go on without having sex for a while, things can change when he’s in a relationship. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Hanzo struggles with insomnia and nightmares/night terrors, but lovemaking is something that significantly quells his trauma and the baggage of his past that he still manages to carry and endure. While he enjoys all the pillow talk and having deep conversations, chances are, after a few rounds of sensual, yet rigorous sex, he will fall asleep rather quickly, if not, almost instantaneously. 

[lisatelramor]

The Next Step

I had really bad writer's block in June/July and it had me poking through my old WIPs. I came across this in my 'probably not going to finish' folder and figured what the hell, why not poke at it? This was intended to be the last part in the Hikaru no Go “Arrangement” series that I started waaaay back in 2012. Hahaaa. ._. Yeah. It's finally finished now, so here ya go, fic no one wanted but me because I wanted closure.

*****

It was somewhere during their fifth year of marriage, late at night in the winter with Hikaru sleeping between them that Natsume reached out to her husband and took his hand. “Akira-san.”

Akira almost asleep, rolled to look at her. “Yes?”

“I think I’m ready to have a child.”

“Already?” It seemed too soon, but in retrospect it wasn’t too soon at all following a natural progression of things. Though it was hardly a normal marriage as Hikaru’s snoring presence demonstrated.

“I am already over thirty,” Natsume explained into the dark. She curled closer into Hikaru’s warmth. “We are not getting any younger.” She smiled. “And five years is hardly ‘already’ to the rest of the world.”

“Oh.” Akira tried to see her face through the dark, but there wasn’t enough light to make out her expression or see the emotions in her eyes. He leaned back into the blankets and Hikaru’s head rolled off his pillow and onto Akira’s shoulder. “We’ll need to discuss this with Hikaru.”

“Of course.” Natsume let go of his arm, latching on to Hikaru’s side. Hikaru had less sharp angles than Akira making him the perfect pillow. “I feel it would be a good idea to have a child soon before we are too tired to raise it and our parents too old to help.”

“I will think about it,” Akira promised. Because it was the natural progression in a marriage. You had children.

*o*o*

“Kids?” Hikaru laughed nervously. “Already? I mean we’re not even thirty yet.”

“Actually, Hikaru-san, I am thirty-one,” Natsume pointed out.

“Oh. Uh…” It wasn’t that he was against the idea of children, it was just…different. And he finally felt like their dynamic worked. Wouldn’t adding another person—another very tiny, demanding, baby sort of person—going to mess with their balance?

“Hikaru, we’re in this together,” Akira said. He sipped his tea. His hair was getting long, Hikaru noted. Why was it that they drank tea whenever there were serious discussions to be had? They’d drunk two whole pots of tea when they discussed Hikaru moving in with Akira and Natsume. Most of it was consumed by Akira and Natsume. Hikaru tended to let it grow cold and swirl it around in his cup. Akira set the tea cup down. “If you aren’t ready for this step, we can wait. A child has always been in our future plans though.”

“I know.” It was something they discussed early in their relationship along with boundaries, comfort-zones, and proper use of toiletries. (Hikaru wasn’t guilty in the least for his misuse of the last one. Akira hadn’t been complaining at the time either. He was just upset about the state of the bathroom later.) “Well…it takes months for a child to be born, right? That’s plenty of time to get used to the idea.”

Natsume and Akira exchanged a look. She raised an eyebrow, he sighed. “There’s another thing,” Akira said. “About…parentage. Are you interested in your own biological children?”

“Kids? Me?!” Hikaru gaped at Natsume. “Uh, well, I kind of assumed they’d be…err…your kids, Akira since you’re married to Natsume. And, uh, I guess they’re Natsume’s kids too and all since, uh…” He trailed off blushing. It was so much harder to think of sex as creating children than just…sex. For fun and intimacy. And oh, god, Natsume would carry a tiny person in her for nine months. How weird was that? He shook his head and tried to answer honestly. “I never really thought about having kids. I guess kids are ok, but I never really felt like I had to have any of my own. Akari has a kid and that’s weird to think about, and Mom wants grandkids, but I never really planned on providing any.”

“I am not averse to having more than one child,” Natsume said. “I would actually like more than one child as in my own childhood I often would have liked a sibling for a playmate.”

Hikaru tried to wrap his head around not just one child but two or maybe more. “You know, I’m happy just being Uncle Hikaru or something. Really.”

Natsume smiled, no doubt seeing right through his bluster to his discomfort beneath, but she didn’t comment on it.  “The option is still available in the future if you want it.”

“We’re at a good point in our lives for this,” Akira assured Hikaru. “Our careers are well on their way, we’re young enough to have the energy for a child, and our parents are close enough by to help with childcare when our schedules lead to difficulties.”

Hikaru had a feeling there would be a lot of scheduling difficulties. The life of a professional Go player wasn’t as predictable as a nine to five office job. But Akira was right. As things were now, either Akira or Hikaru were usually available to be with Natsume—and therefore a future child—most days.

“Ok,” Hikaru said. “So we’re having a baby.” Right. He could get used to the idea. He drained his tea cup. “So Natsume, what now?”

“We wait.” She sipped her tea. Both the men stared as she set the cup down. “Babies don’t happen instantly.”

*o*o*

“Are you okay with this?” Akira said. They were in Natsume’s garden under the wisteria tree on its trellis. It wasn’t flowering at the moment but it had promising buds along some of the trailing vines. Akira clipped a wayward branch. Natsume was on the other end of the garden working on her flower beds as it was the first day both warm and dry enough to get a decent amount of work in. The wisteria was a foreign variety lacking fragrance, but it didn’t take years to bloom. Natsume had another native tree in the garden she was raising patiently to maturity, but for the moment they could enjoy the light purple flowers the vines produced.

“You clipped too much,” Hikaru said taking the vine from Akira. “See?” He measured empty space where the branch had been. “If you left a few more inches it would have dipped a bit rather than sticking out all weird.”

“Excuse me for not comprehending garden aesthetics.” If it stuck out noticeably, clip it. He didn’t sit through most of Hikaru and Natsume’s discussions on gardening. Actually, he still found it strange that Hikaru enjoyed gardening as it was something that took patience. “And that isn’t the issue.”

Hikaru twitched the cut branch in his hands back and forth. “Yeah. I know. I said congratulations right?”

“You looked terrified when you said it.” Akira glanced at the other end of the garden. Natsume had started in on a new row of flowers seemingly unaware of them dawdling next to the wisteria. He was willing to bet she was carefully not listening, trying to give them all the privacy they needed to have this conversation.

“I didn’t mean to be.” Hikaru sighed. “I guess I’m just nervous.”

“About what?”

“The baby!” Hikaru tossed the clipping onto the pile of weeds they’d accumulated in the last half hour of dancing around the subject. “How…I mean, what if there’s no room for me? I know it’s selfish and all but I’m really happy. I don’t want it to get complicated.”

Hikaru, Akira thought, had come a long way from dating and dumping every few months. Akira, in his more romantic moments, liked to think it was because Hikaru had finally found someone—more than one—to keep him company. In his selfish moments, he hoped it was him alone, but he knew that without Natsume they probably would have been more explosive than steady in a relationship. He set down the clippers. “You realize that having a baby won’t change what you mean to us, right?”

“I know just…the situation changes.” Hikaru flopped to the ground getting grass stains on his jeans. Akira followed more carefully. “People already gossip. Can you imagine what they’ll say?”

“Yes.” They’d talked about it before. There was always talk about him and Hikaru from the first time they were seen fighting over a Go board. It hadn’t gone away when Akira married. If anything, their relationship was the biggest open secret since Ogata’s obsession over Sai. Most people didn’t assume Natsume was part of the relationship though.

“You don’t care?”

“So long as we know the truth, I don’t feel that it matters. It is not anyone else’s business anyway.” Akira shrugged, putting his hand on Hikaru’s. Hikaru stared at their interlocked fingers as if trying to puzzle how they got like that, tangled so tight they looked like they had always been that way. “We knew things would not be easy and that not everyone in our lives would understand. Things will work out.”

“Akira, we haven’t even told our parents.”

Akira’s hand clenched around Hikaru’s reflexively. He was pretty sure his parents had an idea of what was going on, but he knew Natsume’s parents were ignorant. It wasn’t too surprising to know that Hikaru’s family also was never told.

“My mom thinks I’m seeing someone steadily but I’m just too embarrassed to bring her home.” Hikaru rested his forehead on his knees. “I think my dad suspects I’m gay and am afraid to bring home my boyfriend. He keeps making thinly veiled comments about how they’d be glad to meet whoever I’m dating no matter what they’re like. And Mom just looks at him blankly every time like she doesn’t get it. Aaagh…” His free hand scrubbed through his hair, leaving a smear of dirt on his cheek. “I don’t want to visit them anymore. What kind of awful son am I?”

Akira stroked the back of Hikaru’s hand with his thumb. “Do you think we should tell them? Our parents? We could get everything out of the way before the baby comes; set everything straight so that we won’t have to explain why you are such a large part of the pregnancy and child-rearing?”

Hikaru shrugged. “I don’t know. It might get my mom to stop poking about imposing on your home. She keeps saying I should get my own place again rather than invading your space like you and Natsume are still newlyweds.” He wrinkled his nose at the thought of Akira ever acting like newlyweds in movies. He couldn’t pull off the sickly-sweet devotion and playfully sexy. The closest to it was affectionate, and his devotion came across as almost scarily intense, like his expression across the board in a particularly exciting game of Go.

“Natsume will register her pregnancy soon,” Akira said absently. “We’ll decide once she does?”

“Sure… God, I hope that all this doesn’t explode in our faces. Like what if your parents end up hating me? Or my parents think I’m a home wrecker or a pervert or something?”

“They’re your parents,” Akira said. “Your father at least sounds accepting of you existing outside the norm. My parents, I’m sure, will be accepting of me provided I am discreet and it makes me happy. They worried when I married Natsume if they were doing the right thing suggesting that I marry. I think they will understand that in arranged marriages agreements are made by the couple to be happy while still doing their duty to their parents and each other.”

Hikaru leaned to his right, resting his head on Akira’s shoulder. “Think Natsume will tell her parents?”

“Hm.” Akira shifted so that Hikaru could lean more comfortably. “No. Her family is stricter with traditions than even my own. They could probably accept that I found a lover but I doubt they’d be comfortable with the thought of their daughter sharing a lover with her husband.”

“Damn.”

“Mm.”

Natsume waved from the flower bed, three neat rows of pansies. They were blue, purple and pale pink that would look nice contrasting the daffodils, tulips, and iris planted behind them. The greens were already up and the buds gaining color as they neared opening. She had a smudge of dirt on her face close to where Hikaru had one, making Akira smile. How many more days would he be able to enjoy this peace?

Hikaru reached out and smeared dirt on one corner of Akira’s cheek. “There. Now you match.”

“Hey!” Akira swatted Hikaru’s hands away and Natsume laughed. Akira made sure more dirt got on Hikaru’s face than on himself and turned back to gardening like nothing out of the ordinary happened. Hikaru sputtered behind him wiping dirt from his face as Natsume’s laughter filled the yard. He would probably end up filthy by the end of the day’s work, but Akira couldn’t bring himself to mind too much.

*o*o*

“Holy—” Hikaru stared at the kitchen counter and the overflow of bags on it. One seemed to be full of fat bottles of pills. The rest were full of vegetables and things he’s seen at health food stores when his mother took him shopping last time she was on a diet. “Guys? What’s all this?”

“Welcome home.” Natsume came up behind Hikaru touching his arm in greeting. He kissed her on the cheek noting her flushed face and the displacement of her blouse. Hmm. That explained why the groceries hadn’t been put away yet.

“I see you got started without me,” Hikaru said without any bitterness. He smiled over her shoulder when Akira appeared in the doorway. “So what’s with all the meds and vegetables?”

“They are vitamins and dietary supplements,” Natsume said. She took Hikaru’s hand and led him to the counter. “These ones have nutrients that help the baby grow healthily for the first few months. This bottle,” she picked up a smaller one, “is for later. We decided it was best to get them all at once. The food of course, is to ensure I am eating properly.”

“You already eat healthily,” Hikaru said. It was a bit overwhelming to see all the things going into having a baby before it was even born. He hadn’t expected it to be so complicated. Sure, once the baby was born there would be diapers and baby food and formula and who knew what else, but was having a baby such a big deal? “Do you really need all of this?”

“I suppose I do not need all of it,” Natsume said. She turned a bottle over in her hands. “But it makes me feel better. I want to do everything right.”

“Until the baby is born, it’s going to be taking nutrients it needs from Natsume, so the dietary supplements will help.” Akira started putting vegetables in the refrigerator. The nonchalance of this was offset by how his shirt was untucked. He’d probably be annoyed once he noticed it; Akira did prefer to be put together at all times.

“And the vegetables and…things?” Hikaru opened one of the bags and wrinkled his nose at the package of natto at the bottom. There were soba noodles and daikon radish in there as well.

“I hope you don’t mind a more strictly traditional diet,” Natsume said. She accepted the package of noodles from Hikaru, sliding it into the proper cupboard. “I’ll need to eat more balanced meals for the duration of my pregnancy.”

“That’s fine,” Hikaru said, feeling a little overwhelmed. He vaguely remembered Akari mentioning something about Japanese food for a Japanese baby when she was pregnant, but he hadn’t really paid too much attention to the details back then. “Uh. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just keep doing what you’ve been doing,” Natsume said, looking amused. She patted Hikaru’s cheek as she crossed to get the last of the groceries. “If I need anything I will be sure to let you and Akira-san know.”

Hikaru looked at Akira wondering if he was the only one feeling in over his head with this. To his disappointment, Akira looked almost as amused as Natsume. “I have books that you should probably read,” Akira said. “They help.”

“Okay.” Hikaru could handle this. He could handle all of it, sure. It just was different. “Okay, I’ll…get on that soon then.”

“Oh,” Natsume said, pausing from where she was lining up bottles of prenatal vitamins. “Hikaru-san, I registered my pregnancy today. Have you thought more about talking to your parents?”

“Uh…” He hadn’t forgotten. It was hard to forget when his mother had brought up dating again when she’d called over the weekend. He’d just tried not to think too hard about it.

“I’m planning to talk to my parents the next free day we all have,” Akira said, leaning on the kitchen counter. “It’s better to have us all there.”

Hikaru stifled nervous laughter. He couldn’t imagine what sort of expression Touya Kouyo would have on his face when they told him that Hikaru had been invited into his son’s marriage. It probably wouldn’t be a good expression, but it would probably be handled more calmly than Hikaru’s mother would take it. If she was flustered enough at Hikaru moving into Akira’s home, she’d probably be scandalized to think about Hikaru in a polyamorous relationship.

“Well,” Hikaru said slowly, “I guess we can do the same thing with my parents. Um. After yours.” A bubble of hysteria made him choke of a laugh, and both Natsume and Akira looked at him curiously. Hikaru waved a hand. “It’s nothing, just… Mom thinks I have a secret girlfriend and Dad thinks I’m gay and have a boyfriend, and they’re kind of both right.”

Akira and Natsume exchanged a look. “You don’t have to talk to them about it if it makes you uncomfortable,” Natsume said. “Hikaru-san, if you think they will react badly, then there’s nothing wrong with continuing to keep quiet. You know I am not going to tell my own parents. Much as I care for them, they aren’t the most open minded people.”

“I know.” Hikaru sighed. He stared at the vitamin supplements. Natsume would be visibly pregnant soon. There would be questions, and he didn’t owe strangers any kind of response, but Hikaru didn’t like lying to people. He was kind of a terrible liar anyway. His parents would ask eventually, and honestly, he kind of wanted to be open with them about this. Akira had to want that too since he had been talking about telling his parents since they first started discussing babies. “I don’t think they’re going to be happy, but I don’t think they’d disown me for this either. I mean, they won’t understand it. They didn’t understand my interest in Go either, though, so it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve shocked and confused them. They’ll get over it.”

“We’ll be right there with you,” Natsume said, placing her hand on Hikaru’s.

“Yeah.” Hikaru smiled. “I know.” He kissed her cheek and took quiet pleasure in how her eyes lit up at a simple act of affection. He set a hand on her hip. “So,” he said changing the topic, “since when has grocery shopping become a turn on because Akira totally had his hands places right before I got here.”

Natsume’s eyes glimmered with mischief. “Only Akira-san’s hands?”

“Natsume!” Hikaru said, fake scandalized.

She laughed and across the room Akira pretended he was long suffering instead of amused by them. It was all new and strange and a little scary what they were getting into, Hikaru thought, but so long as they had this, they’d be okay.

*o*o*

Hikaru was wearing a yukata and very self-conscious in it. It wasn’t that he didn’t wear one sometimes. He wore suits regularly these days too, so formal clothing wasn’t exactly strange. But…there was a difference in wearing a yukata to a festival as a child and teenager and wearing one to his lovers’ parents’ home as an adult.

Natsume set a hand on his elbow as he fidgeted yet again on the walk toward the front door. “You’re fine. Stop fiddling with it.”

“Did we have to come dressed up? They’re definitely going to know something’s up.” Hikaru did come to the occasional family meal, but it had never been a formal occasion.

“Akiko-san said she wanted to have a formal meal,” Natsume said, looking far too calm considering what they planned to reveal at this dinner. “Usually she does one for something seasonal, but she and Kouyou-san were out of the country for most of the cherry blossom season.”

“Why didn’t I know that? I feel like I should have known that.” Hikaru pulled at his sleeve again. This time Akira stilled his hand.

“Ordinarily, we wouldn’t force you along to something formal,” Akira said. He smiled, but the slight crease between his eyebrows gave away his nerves. At least Hikaru wasn’t alone in his nervousness. “Although, you’re probably going to be invited in the future after this.”

“If they don’t get angry.” Hikaru swallowed. Touya Kouyou was intimidating at the best of times; he really didn’t want to see what he’d look like if he was actually angry. “I like your parents. I really don’t want them to hate me.”

“Hikaru, if they are upset, it wouldn’t be just at you,” Akira pointed out drily. “We all share responsibility in this relationship.”

“Yes, but I’m the only one intruding on a marriage.”

“You are not intruding anywhere,” Natsume said, fitting herself on Hikaru’s left while Akira strode the last few steps to the door on Hikaru’s right.

Caught between them with Natsume’s hand on his elbow and Akira’s still brushing the back of his right hand, Hikaru felt a bit less scared. They would be doing this together.

Akira’s mother greeted them at the door. Hikaru could see her take in how they were standing—at least she’d known Hikaru would be there, wouldn’t that have been awkward, to be the uninvited guest?—but Touya Akiko was too polite to let anything she was thinking on her face.

“Natsume-chan, Akira-san, Shindou-kun.” She smiled and nodded to them each in turn. Was Hikaru imagining that her nod to him had been a little stiffer than usual? He couldn’t tell; he was looking for anything off right now. “Please come in. Kouyou is in the dining room.”

“Thank you for having us,” Natsume said, taking over the social niceties.

Hikaru tuned her and Akira’s mother out as he walked through the front door and exchanged his geta for house slippers. Akira was an anchoring presence at his side, fingers brushing Hikaru’s wrist reassuringly as they made their way into the house. Behind him, Natsume commented on the choice of decorations or flowers or something. It went over his head.

“How long is this dinner going to last?” Hikaru asked Akira under his breath.

“Usually there are seven courses,” Akira murmured, “so it will be a few hours.”

“Seven?” Hikaru paled. How were they going to sit through seven courses of food? What did people talk about for that much time? At what point was Akira planning to tell them? Would they have to sit through a bunch of courses with awkwardness in the air?

“It’s a formal meal.” Akira raised an eyebrow, leading the way into the dining room still leaning into Hikaru’s space. “Relax. You’ve eaten meals with my parents before.”

“Not seven course formal meals!” Hikaru hissed.

Akira pushed him toward one of the cushions on the floor. Oh god, he’d have to sit formally. For hours. Well, no, he had managed during Go games for years now, but that was a very different thing. Hikaru found himself seated next to Touya Kouyou, a fresh cup of tea set in front of him courtesy of Akira’s mom. Natsume was across from him, Akira next to her, and Akiko at the end of the table where she could come and go to get new dishes. Natsume smiled reassuringly.

“It is good to see you, Shindou-san,” Kouyou said.  “I have enjoyed following your games in the current Honinbou league. If you continue playing at this level, you have a chance of playing title match games.”

Hikaru let himself relax a bit into the familiar flow of conversation about Go. Akira joined in, and Hikaru barely noticed the first course becoming the third course as they debated the remaining opponents before they would be able to challenge for the Honinbou title. He was aware of Akiko coming and going as they talked, and Natsume pointing out the different seasonal foods or the arrangement of food or the pattern on the lacquered bowls of sea bream soup, but it was a tangential awareness. Every once in a while, Natsume or Akiko would add to their conversation, and Hikaru found that even with the formal clothing and seating arrangements, and the perfect-looking portions of food that arrived with each course, it didn’t actually feel much different than meals usually did with Akira’s family.

For a while, he stopped being nervous about why they were there and forgot the purpose behind the visit entirely…at least until Akiko brought out their dessert and fresh tea to chase away the sharp taste of sake and the lingering savory flavor of clam rice and miso soup.

As pretty sakura patterned plates with individual strawberry daifuku clicked against the table in front of them, Natsume reached out and touched Akira’s wrist. All of Hikaru’s nerves rushed back, leaving him feeling like the large meal of rich food might be coming back up depending on how the next few minutes panned out.

Akira glanced at Hikaru, catching his eye so that they were all on the same page, and took a breath. Conversation had petered out when Akiko presented the last dish. Cups of strong green tea were placed in front of them and Akira cleared his throat. “Mother, Father, there are a few things we would like to tell you.”

Hikaru was hyper aware of Kouyou shifting next to him. He didn’t dare look to see what kind of expression was on his face. He kept his eyes on Akira because it was the safest option.

“What is it?” Akiko prompted, returning to her seat.

Akira’s eyes went firm and determined the way they did across the Go board and there was the tiniest bit of movement as he sat straighter. “Mother, Father, Natsume and I are involved romantically with Hikaru.” There was a moment of complete silence. Akira wet his lips. “We have been for over a year now.”

“Both of you?” Akira’s mother said, voice faint.

Hikaru kept looking at Akira, taking strength in his resolve. He could see Natsume’s hand on Akira’s adding her own support. “Yes,” Akira said, looking at Hikaru, the eye contact as grounding as his hand in Hikaru’s would have been. “Both of us.”

“It was something we decided on together,” Natsume said, adding her voice to Akira’s. She sounded as calm and composed as ever, but there was steel under that calm that Hikaru rarely heard from her.

“Both of you,” Akiko repeated. Hikaru snuck a glance her way. She sat very straight, a bit pale and her face set neutral, though her tone carried over her shock clearly.

Touya Kouyou had one eyebrow raised, but Hikaru couldn’t read any emotion beyond that.

“You…have considered the social ramifications of…” Akiko trailed off.

“We have,” Akira said. Which was news for Hikaru, but then of course they must have. Natsume at least was aware of her social standing even if Hikaru had never paid attention to it and Akira picked and chose when he cared about social conventions. Akira smiled wryly. “We thought about it a long time, actually.”

“I see.”

“I had wondered,” Kouyou said, “when Shindou-san moved in with you.” His eyebrow slid higher. “Although I admit I hadn’t expected all three of you to be involved with each other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hikaru blurted, then felt horrified because now everyone was looking at him.

Kouyou looked faintly amused, the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “My son has had a fixation on you for years. It would not have surprised me if he ended up involved with you.”

“Kouyou!” Akiko said, sounding scandalized.

Kouyou looked at her. “Akiko, it is no more scandalous to insinuate Shindou-san was involved with Akira than him being involved with both of them.”

“Akira-san wouldn’t do that to Natsume-san!” Akiko insisted.

“I doubt he would have gone behind Natsume-san’s back,” Kouyou said.

Natsume surprised everyone by laughing softly. The conversation derailed as they all looked at her. She smiled openly. “No, Akira-san would never go behind my back. In fact, he is more likely to encourage me to act on my emotions before he considers acting on his own.”

Now it was Akira’s turn to feel embarrassed. “Natsume…”

She squeezed his hand, still smiling, the same mischievous glint in her eyes that Hikaru had come to know shining bright. “It’s true,” she said. “Akira-san was too worried about offending me to act even after we were aware that our feelings pointed in the same direction.”

“There is passing conversation and a serious discussion,” Akira said, face still pink.

“Well,” Akiko said. She crossed her hands in her lap and blinked. “Well, I suppose…I suppose that I should be glad that you are…content with your arrangement.”

“We are,” Akira said firmly. He held out a hand to Hikaru and Hikaru felt relieved to touch it. He’d have been glad if he could reach Natsume too, but there was too much space across the table to do that. “We don’t intend to shout our relationship from the rooftops,” Akira said, “but we felt that now was the time to share it with our family.”

“Do your parents know?” Akiko asked Natsume, turning her head to include Hikaru.

“You’re the first people we’ve told,” Hikaru said. He tugged on his yukata sleeve. “Actually, we’re planning to tell my parents…sometime next week.” He really needed to get to planning that.

Akiko nodded, glanced at Natsume, who was shaking her head. Her smile had gone softer, sadder.

“I don’t intend to have this discussion with my parents,” she said. “I love them dearly. I always will, and will do my best to keep caring for them, but... They would never accept something like this.”

This news clearly upset Akiko more than the thought of their relationship if the way her forehead scrunched, but she didn’t comment on it, just nodded once more. “Shindou-san, I hope to talk with your parents sometime in the future, since…since you will be a part of the family.”

“Of course, Akiko-san,” Hikaru said quickly. He wondered how his parents would interact with Akira’s considering how different their backgrounds and interests were. Well, that was a problem for another time.

“There is one more thing to talk about,” Natsume said, drawing attention back to herself. She smiled at Akira, invited Hikaru to smile with her. “I am expecting.”

Another silence, this one less from a breach of social norms and more from normal surprise. “That’s great,” Akiko said sounding much more sincere than she had about their relationship. “How far along are you…?”

“The doctor estimated about two and a half months.” Natsume folded her hands over her stomach. “I do hope you will be able to advise me later on what to expect. It is always good to learn from the experience of others.”

Hikaru had to hand it to Natsume, she knew how to smooth over a situation. He kind of hoped she’d be able to do the same with his parents if they ended up needing it. He knew he’d probably only make things worse if he opened his mouth.  He exchanged a glance with Akira, relief filling them both as conversation between Natsume and Akiko turned to the baby rather than staying on their relationship.

Kouyou had a small smile on his face as he ate his dessert and sipped at the bitter green tea that accompanied it. “It’s good to see you settled. Not only because I look forward to a grandchild,” he said softly to Akira, including Hikaru with a glance.

Akira smiled. “We really are happy with how things have gone. Adding a child…it is going to be different, but it feels like the right time.”

“I’m sure having another pair of hands will be a great help,” Kouyou said with good humor. He glanced at Natsume and Akiko’s smiles as Akiko brought up her own experience with her pregnancy. “And you won’t lack for other help either.”

“Thank you,” Akira said.

Hikaru took that to mean his sort-of in-laws would gladly do babysitting. Well. He hoped they’d do babysitting. He hoped his parents and Natsume’s parents would too. He felt a little terrified again by the fact that they were—Natsume was—bringing another human being into existence. A human being who would have wants and needs and someday opinions. A human being he hoped he wouldn’t screw up because out of the three of them, he knew it was most likely to be him to mess up spectacularly.

Akira was smiling and so were Natsume and Akiko and Touya Kouyou, even after they’d told their secret though, so the world wasn’t imploding yet. Hikaru nibbled on his daifuku. As Akira got pulled into the conversation about doctors and Akiko’s pregnancy with Akira, Hikaru found himself smiling too.

Yeah. Yeah, it was all still pretty scary. But it was exciting as well. Besides, if Akira’s traditionally minded parents were taking everything this well, Hikaru’s family would probably be ok.

*o*o*

Compared to the formality of telling Akira’s parents, talking to Hikaru’s was anticlimactic. They’d met Akira before, and they’d at least heard about Natsume. Hikaru had expected more alarm than he got though.

Instead, he got his mother sighing as she passed a bowl of salad around his childhood kitchen table, and his father setting down his chopsticks to look between the three of them before getting up to get another beer.

“That’s it?” Hikaru asked, accepting the salad bowl.

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be telling the neighbors,” his mother said, “but you’ve clearly made up your mind. It’s not like you’ve ever changed it because of what someone else thought.”

Hikaru passed the salad to Natsume and looked at his dad who had returned with enough drinks for all of them, whether they wanted one or not.

“You know,” his dad said, setting the bottles on the table, “after the whole Go thing, we accepted that we don’t really know what goes on in your life, and just got used to surprises. This is a lasting relationship at least.”

Hikaru’s mom snorted. “Considering his track record with girlfriends…”

“Oi, I wasn’t that bad!” Hikaru felt his ears burn with a blush. “I wasn’t!” he insisted, looking at Akira.

There wasn’t any help there. Akira was carefully not meeting his eyes and Natsume was trying not to laugh, though he could only tell the latter because he’d been living with them for months. “Hikaru-san,” Natsume said in her best conciliatory voice, “while you did not date casually, you did not date long term either.”

“I’m dating you two so clearly I can.”

“Yes,” Natsume said with a small smile. “You must not have met the right people before.”

“Well, no they never really understood about—” Hikaru narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re teasing again aren’t you?”

Natsume just kept smiling.

Hikaru’s mom sent around a plate of tempura. “It’s nice to finally know who he’s been seeing. He’s not subtle when he’s in a relationship,” she said. “Granted, I wasn’t expecting either of you, but it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Natsume-san.” She smiled at Natsume and then at Akira. “And of course it’s always good to see you again, Akira-kun.”

Hikaru tried not to pout at his food. Of course his mom loved Akira. And always had. Because she thought he was a nice polite boy. Pssh. If they only knew how Akira could yell his head off in public over Go, they’d think differently. They’d probably love Natsume even more because she could talk about things that his parents understood or were interested in. …Hopefully his parents would still like him considering both his romantic partners were more polite and attentive than Hikaru was. He might just have to try harder to keep on his mom’s good side.

“Are you okay?” Akira whispered, leaning in on the pretense of passing a bottle of soy sauce.

“My parents are probably going to adopt you and Natsume and make you their real son and replace me.”

Akira frowned, a crease between his eyebrows. The sideways look that accompanied it was Akira’s ‘I have no idea what the hell you’re going on about, but it’s ridiculous’ look. Usually it only showed up when Hikaru was drunk or sleep deprived and saying whatever came to mind at that given moment.

“No, seriously, Mom’s going to be giving me looks and guilt tripping me with stuff by saying you’d do it.”

“Hikaru, I’m sure your parents know you and care about you for who you are. They’re hardly going to replace you.”

“You say that now!” Hikaru hissed back. They were both leaning toward each other with the soy sauce bottle cupped between their hands. If he leaned any further, he’d be head-butting Akira in the forehead. “Never mind.” Hikaru pulled the soy sauce free. Akira had no idea how much Hikaru’s mom had wanted a son that actually acted like Akira did toward his mother. Hikaru tried but he knew most of his interpersonal failings by this point, and being patient or considerate or listening carefully when he didn’t have an interest weren’t his strong suits.

He sat back up to find his parents both not-looking so obviously even he noticed. Akira sighed softly like when an opponent made a disappointing and predictable move when he’d expected better—Hikaru’d been on the receiving end of that sigh often enough that it made him feel defensive reflexively. The not-looking could be a bad response, which had to be how Akira saw it, or it could just be some weird attempt of giving them privacy for something that wasn’t even all that intimate. Still, it made Hikaru want to point out that his parents weren’t reacting near as badly as Akira’s mom had.

Once again, Natsume chose to diffuse growing tension with news of her pregnancy. Cue both Hikaru’s parents looking excited. Hikaru hadn’t even known his dad liked babies.

“You know,” his father said, “you really need to see Hikaru’s baby pictures to understand that he’s always been doing something unexpected.”

“Dad, no!” Hikaru groaned.

Akira and Natsume both smiled. “I’m sure we’d love to hear the stories,” Akira said.

Hikaru sank down in his chair. Of course. His whole family would side with his romantic partners. Still… He peeked at the smiles around the dinner table. This had gone well. He didn’t think there would be any problems about Akira of Natsume being accepted into the family.

*o*o*

A vase of cut flowers sat on the kitchen counter, left there by Natsume after her morning spent in the garden. Akira couldn’t remember the name of them at the moment. He knew that the daffodils had bloomed past their peak, that the dogwood was blooming, and that the lilac and the peonies were budding but not in bloom. They were pinkish red and in clusters, but he couldn’t remember which plant it was.

A few years ago, he wouldn’t have believed he would know near as much about flowers as he did now. It was interesting, he reflected, how close interaction with another person could change you in little ways. These days he did notice flowers. He noticed if a flower bed was well kept or not, and whether or not the plants in it were ones that needed a good deal of upkeep. Since Hikaru started living with them—or maybe before that, maybe as long as he’d considered Hikaru a friend—he’d started taking note of places that specialized in ramen, or, on several occasions, places that had displays on Shusaku. And he had influenced them both in turn. There were nights when Natsume would play a game of Go with both of them, each game her stones having that much more shape and purpose behind them as she improved and her strategy grew. Or how Hikaru had taken a liking to Akira’s favorite tea despite having hated it the first time he tried it.

And now their lives were changing in subtle ways, already making space for the new life that would be joining it, little ripples as the growing child exerted its presence already. In what they ate, in choices they made, in future plans.

It was different.

That didn’t make it a bad thing.

Akira touched one of the flower blossoms, the delicate petals soft and easily bruised under his fingertips. Oddly enough, he was handling the changes better than Hikaru. For someone who changed things around him as easily as Hikaru did, he didn’t seem to know what to do when change was asserted on him. Ordinarily, Akira wasn’t the best with change either. He liked his habits and his routines, the familiarity of surrounding himself with Go and the quiet life he had when he wasn’t immersed in his passion. But for Akira, children had always been an eventuality, just like marriage had been. Hikaru didn’t think the way Akira did though, and before they brought the topic up, children likely had never crossed his mind.

Right now Hikaru was getting lunch with Waya before he had a Go class to teach. Natsume was at her parents’ home for the rest of the day. It left Akira alone with his thoughts which, he thought wryly, could be a bad thing on days when he wasn’t in the middle of studying something. A rare weekday off, and no one to share it with.

Akira looked around the kitchen and tried to see it as it might be in a few years. A child hiding under the kitchen table, peeking between chair rungs. Natsume cooking for four instead of three. Maybe Hikaru crouched in the doorway to the living room with some favorite toy, encouraging a child to walk toward him. Perhaps a few more years, sitting at the table and pointing out simple life or death Go problems… A future need for a stepstool for the child to reach the kitchen sink. The cupboards that would need childproofing. Small hands carrying in flowers after an afternoon with Natsume in the garden. More and more possible future moments panned out in his imagination like potential patterns on the Go board. He could all but see a toddler with Natsume’s round face and his own cheekbones and eyes peeking out from behind the doorway.

He’d thought, when he married, that having a child would be something he did out of duty. Akira smiled at the open spaces of the kitchen that could one day hold all the possible futures he imagined and knew that this was something he truly wanted.

*o*o*

Natsume told her mother about her pregnancy on her own time. It wasn’t like Akira’s family or Hikaru’s; her mother expected to hear any news from Natsume personally and would pass it on to her father, and it would all be spoken of in private because that was the way her family worked. Her mother didn’t expect Akira to be there for such an announcement. If anything she would have found it strange. Natsume’s own father hadn’t been involved with childrearing much. Natsume respected how he’d provided for her and her mother, but they were not close the way she was close to her mother.

Her mother, at the news, looked relieved. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “I was beginning to wonder if your marriage had been successful after all.”

“We wanted to wait until we were ready,” Natsume said. “I have said that things are going well with Akira-san and me.”

“Of course,” her mother demurred, pouring Natsume fresh tea. “But when time goes on it does lead to questions.” Questions like fertility, and if the couple even shared a marital bed, Natsume knew. There had been enough worries over the fact that she was older than Akira.

“You won’t need to worry about that now,” Natsume said, pushing the topic aside. “I’ve registered the pregnancy and it is going well so far.”

“Are you eating what you should be? Diet is important in these formative months.”

“I talked with my doctor and have guidelines to follow.”

Her mother nodded. She looked very serious, but of course she did; she had miscarried twice before Natsume was born. “I’ll cook something for you at least once a week so you can rest.”

“You shouldn’t push yourself.” Her mother looked after her father’s health, and her own health frequently wasn’t well these days, but her mother shook her head.

“You have cared for me, continue to care for me. I can help my daughter meet the needs of her child-to-be.” She touched Natsume’s hand in a rare show of physical affection. “And I can do my best to be self-sufficient as you will have less time and energy.”

“If you think that is best,” Natsume demurred, planning to continue with her usual help as long as was physically possible.

“Now I do have one concern,” her mother said with a small frown. “You still have one of your husband’s friends staying with you. Surely he doesn’t intend to intrude on your home forever.”

“He isn’t intruding,” Natsume said with well-cultivated patience. “He helps around the home and is Akira-san’s closest friend. He is welcome so long as he wishes to stay.”

Her mother gave her that doubtful look that said she thought Hikaru was terribly rude but felt herself too polite to say so. “There have been… rumors that his presence might explain the lack of a child.”

For her mother, Natsume thought wryly, that was almost blunt. “As you can see, that is not an issue.”

“Of course,” her mother said, still with that tiny, doubtful frown. “Touya-san would not be so disrespectful.”

It would be terribly rude to her mother to laugh. Natsume covered the urge with a sip of her tea. “Of course.” She looked past her mother to the garden. It was minimalistic from necessity, her parents unable to tend it and Natsume too busy caring for them and her own household to care for both her parents’ garden and her own. It still had an old wisteria supported by a metal trellis. Its blossoms were heavy and blue, bright against the backdrop of green moss and dark stones. She centered herself on the image, seeking the inner peace plants brought her. “Hikaru-san is not the sort of man to break up a marriage, mother, nor is Akira-san.”

“Hikaru-san?” her mother echoed, eyebrows lifting.

“Hikaru-san asked that I call him by name. I have found a friend in him as well as Akira-san.”

Her mother’s eyebrows stayed up.

“He is not a very formal person,” Natsume added. She smiled. Hikaru had a way of stripping any formality away. “I hope that you have a chance to know him. He is an easy person to like.”

“If you say so,” her mother said.

Hikaru would either win her over with his unconventional charm, or he’d have her permanent disapproval, Natsume thought. There was no way that it would be somewhere in the middle with her mother.

“How is your garden,” her mother asked, and Natsume knew that for a little while at least her mother wouldn’t question Hikaru’s presence.

Good enough for the moment.

*o*o*

The reality of Natsume’s pregnancy didn’t set in at first. They’d told their families, registered with the doctor, bought parenting books and pre-natal supplies, yes, but their lives went on as normal. Akira and Hikaru had their matches and teaching games and lectures to give. Natsume had her parents to look after, her garden, and their home to upkeep. They slept together like usual, ate meals together when schedules aligned, played too many games of Go that ended in debates that usually ended in Natsume laughing at them or distracting them with snacks.

It was almost three weeks after the pregnancy was registered when Akira woke to his wife rushing out of bed for the bathroom. Hikaru was away for a game, so it took Akira’s half-awake brain several seconds to connect the movement to Natsume at all—she wasn’t the rushing type. Then the sound of retching met his ears and he realized what was happening. The books all said that morning sickness was a possibility.

They’d hoped that it would skip Natsume over when the sixth week came and went without a change.

Akira pulled himself out of bed, moving to the bathroom door. Natsume had her forehead pressed against the rim of the toilet, lips pressed tight and her hands balled in fists on the floor. She breathed slowly, in through her nose, out through her mouth. Akira touched her shoulder lightly. “Are you okay?”

Natsume breathed a few more breaths before answering. “I am uncomfortable, but this is nothing I was not expecting.”

Akira didn’t know how to comfort this. After a moment, he rubbed a hand against her back, like he remembered his own mother doing when he was young and had the stomach flu. Nausea was bad, but muscles tensed and waiting for the next wave often made the feeling worse. “Can I get you anything?”

Natsume leaned into his touch, relaxing slightly. “Tea?” she said. “I have ginger tea that I bought in the chance that I did get morning sickness.”

Akira patted her back once more and headed to the kitchen. Clicking on the electric kettle, he sifted through Natsume’s carefully organized cupboards for the correct tea, finding it behind several other packages they used on a daily basis. He kept his hands busy, picking a mug, pulling out a tea bag, getting honey from the cupboard to sweeten it to Natsume’s preferred taste; all trying not to let his ears strain for further sounds from the bathroom.

The kettle made an unholy amount of shrieking as it heated; it needed cleaned. Water, teabag, honey stirred in, and Akira padded back down the hall.

Natsume hadn’t moved, still white knuckled and pale. He set the tea next to her and hovered in the doorway.

“You don’t have to stay,” Natsume said after a minute of this. “I am not actually ill.”

“It feels wrong for you to be uncomfortable and not doing anything about it,” Akira said.

“You brought me tea,” she said.

“And it hasn’t helped yet.”

Natsume lifted her head and gave him a wry smile. “I need to drink some of it first. Now go sit down, Akira-san, you are making me anxious watching you.”

Akira went.

He picked up one of the pregnancy books, flipping to morning sickness, but there wasn’t much there other than to deal with it and eat and drink as much as were possible in small amounts through it, and seek help if nothing stayed down. The continued lack of more retching was reassuring that the latter didn’t seem to be a problem.

This, Akira thought, was the first change of many to come because of this baby’s presence. He made a mental note to add making ginger tea to his morning routine—or evening or any other time he was home because morning sickness was a misnomer and could happen at any time of day.

When Natsume still didn’t leave the bathroom, and a glance in showed some of the tea gone and Natsume doing breathing exercises with her eyes shut, Akira took it on himself to make breakfast.

Easing Natsume’s burden was something he could manage there at least.

*o*o*

Hikaru didn’t know what to do with a sick, pregnant woman. Neither did Akira, which, in Hikaru’s opinion, was a little funny to watch Akira be flustered and worried. On the other hand Hikaru was just as flustered and worried by Natsume’s ongoing morning sickness as Akira was. Ginger had become a central staple in most of their meals in one way or another.

Seeing Natsume rush off to the bathroom at least once a day was also a new normal.

Hikaru, after about a week of this, had called up his mother. He’d been assured it was well within normal, that his mother had in fact spent almost two months getting sick in mornings and evenings with him, and that so long as Natsume was still eating and drinking regularly and keeping it down, it really wasn’t anything to worry about. No matter what she said, there was nothing normal about puking your guts out if the wind blew a certain direction. Apparently sensitivity to smells was also common with pregnancies.

“So.” Hikaru waited Natsume out, carefully not watching, but staying close. “Tea?”

“No,” Natsume said, a bit hoarse. “Not this time. Just water will be fine.” She sighed. “I believe I will have to put gardening on hold today until the garbage has been collected for the week.”

Hikaru sniffed the air. The smell of garbage wasn’t strong, but it was gross—rancid remains of meat, probably. To actually drive Natsume away from her gardening, it had to smell terrible to her.

Natsume looked at her half-finished weeding with something very close to frustration on her face. Hikaru… really didn’t want to find out what an angry, frustrated Natsume would be like. “Ok! How about you get some water and I finish up the weeding?”

Natsume blinked and raised an eyebrow. “It is a task that can wait.”

“Yeah but you wanted it done today.” Hikaru shrugged. “I have the afternoon off. I can do a bit of yard work.”

For a moment it looked like she was going to refuse the offer, but her shoulders slumped. That actually made him more alarmed. She wasn’t even trying to look composed right now, and yeah, Natsume was way more relaxed with him than Akira, but for all that Hikaru had seen her in a bunch of intimate ways, this was the first time she’d ever looked vulnerable. “Thank you,” she said. “I had hoped there would be more time before the pregnancy kept me from my hobby.”

“Yeah… well, this is just for today. You’ll be better after garbage day. And if you’re not, just point Akira and me in a direction. We’ll be your hands.”

Natsume smiled and shook her head. “I’ll do that if I have to, but I will be gardening as long as I’m able.”

“Of course.” Hikaru wouldn’t take her from her passion. Hell, if someone tried to take his Go from him… He respected Natsume all the more because she voluntarily entered into this knowing she’d have to part from things she enjoyed for who knew how long. Hikaru didn’t think he’d be able to do it if their situations were reversed. “You sure you don’t need tea?”

“I will be fine,” she said, giving his arm a pat, like he was the one needing comforted. He and Akira were going about this support thing all wrong, weren’t they? Hopefully the fact that they were trying counted for something… “If you are sure you know a weed, you may pull it. If you aren’t sure, leave it and I will get to it after trash day.”

“I can do that,” Hikaru said. He’d watched her weed plenty of times. He’d seen her plant these plants. He totally knew what was a weed. Uh. Probably. If not he could always ask, right? “You go rest.”

“I’m going to resent being told to rest eventually,” Natsume said wryly. “Volatile stomach aside, I am not an invalid.”

“Fine, go… wash the dishes or something,” Hikaru said raising his hands. “We’ll both do something useful.”

“I will,” Natsume said with quiet determination. She straightened her shoulders back into her usual perfect posture.

There were some days, Hikaru thought as she went back inside, when he had the feeling she could have been a terrifying opponent across a Go board if her life had gone differently. She had a sharp mind and picked up what little he and Akira taught her after all. Instead she put that focus into daily tasks that Hikaru had to make himself do.

A kid made from her and Akira… it would be interesting to see what kind of person they turned out to be.

No matter what, Hikaru had a feeling they’d be a force of nature.

*o*o*

“Hikaru!” Waya whispered loudly. “How long has Touya’s wife been pregnant?”

Hikaru looked up from the Go board between them, frowning. “Uh… a couple months now? Didn’t I tell you this?”

“I think I’d have remembered something like this.”

“Unless you were drunk,” Hikaru said.

Waya scowled. “One, I don’t drink that much lately. Two, you don’t drink much lately. Or go drinking with me and Isumi much. Or do anything outside of work much these days really. This is the first time in a while you’ve agreed to meet up when we weren’t already at the Go institute.”

Hikaru scowled right back. “I’ve been busy! And it still feels weird inviting you to Akira’s place.”

“You’ve been living here like a year now.”

“Yeah?”

“You sleep in their bed with them,” Waya pointed out.

“Well yeah, and it’s home, but it’s like, their home first.” Hikaru waved a hand like it was totally normal. Waya moved in with Isumi and had been inviting people over to Isumi’s apartment before he’d even moved in.

Then again, Waya supposed Touya and his wife were a lot more intimidating and traditional than Isumi was. “Okay, but it’s your home too. I don’t mind having you over, but it’s kind of weird you don’t feel like inviting me here.”

Hikaru gave him an exasperated look. “Look around.”

Waya looked around. It was a place full of traditional décor and pretty ink paintings of flowers and landscapes and a bookcase filled with Go kifu and plant books. If there hadn’t been a small stack of kifu laid out on the desk and the Go board haphazardly placed at a diagonal, it would have looked like something from some home magazine. “And?”

“You’re a good friend, but you leave kifu wherever you go and forget teacups and have clutter. And we’re loud when we’re together.”

And Touya’s home was pretty quiet and meticulously organized. Yeah, okay, Waya could see where this was going. On the other hand… “You’re worse with clutter than I am.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Hikaru said indignantly.

Waya nodded at the kifu and Hikaru’s fan half open next to them.

Hikaru scowled. “It could have been Akira and me reading those together.”

“Your fan, your mess.”

Hikaru rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I still think I told you Natsume is pregnant.”

“I still say you didn’t.” Waya glanced back at the game they’d paused and made a move. “So… What’s it like?”

“What’s what like? Natsume being pregnant? Because I’m not directly experiencing a baby in me.” Hikaru played his response.

“No, like…” Weren’t there weird things pregnant women did? Or was that brides? Waya had to admit he wasn’t clear on the subject for either. “She doesn’t look super pregnant yet I guess, but some things have to be different.”

Hikaru glanced at the doorway. Natsume was in the kitchen, leaving things cooking while she experimented with knitting. Seeing what she was attempting, Waya had the feeling that either she’d never tried to knit before, or it wasn’t in her natural talents. Not that he’d say that to her face. He was pretty sure mood swings were something women had when pregnant. Probably. Hormones happened more then, right?

“Not too much is different,” Hikaru said after a moment. “Though Natsume keeps getting sick.”

“Wait, like cold-sick or…?”

“Throw up sick. I thought morning sickness was kind of an exaggeration, but turns out it’s not. It’s also really not just in mornings. I have no idea why anyone would want to be pregnant.”

“Because babies?” Waya said uncertainly, not really sure if babies were worth it. Actually, babies might be even more of a hassle than pregnancy sounded.

“Duh,” Hikaru said. “But I sure wouldn’t want to go through that. Kind of sucks I can’t do much more than make ginger tea and take over whatever she was working on when it happens.”

Waya gave Hikaru a considering look. He seemed to really mean that. Not that Waya ever thought Hikaru didn’t care for Touya’s wife, but when it came down to it, he always thought Touya was more the object of Hikaru’s affections. Or, well, attention since affection and Hiakru toward Touya didn’t really compute half the time when they were arguing over a Go board like idiots. Seeing them fight was the first time Touya Akira looked his age, and probably the first time Waya wasn’t intimidated by the guy. And here he was sitting in the man’s house, talking about his wife to their lover. The world was a weird place. “It’s good that you’re trying to help I think. I mean a lot of guys wouldn’t.”

“If a woman you’re with is miserable and you’re not helping, there’s a problem there,” Hikaru said.

“No, just. Pregnancy’s a woman’s thing.” Waya shrugged. “My sister had a kid and her husband was barely involved until the kid was born, and even then it was more on my sister for care.”

“No offense, but your brother-in-law sounds like a jerk.”

“He kind of is. He pisses me off a lot and my sister deserved better.” Waya shrugged. “So, glad that you’re being there for her.”

“We’re so bad at it,” Hikaru sighed. “Touya’s trying to pick up how to be comforting but he’s just—” Hikaru mimed holding a hand out like he was afraid to touch something and like said thing might explode any moment. “—like that. Honestly, a hug would work better.”

“Touya? Hugging? Never,” Waya said.

“He can hug, he just can’t under stress I guess.”

They went back to their game, pace speeding up. They’d almost reached endgame when Natsume wandered in, fresh pot of tea in hand and her sad attempt at knitting under her arm. “Sorry to interrupt,” she murmured, setting the tea down.

“No, thank you,” Waya said quickly.

“Yeah, thanks,” Hikaru said with a grin. “Figure out that stitch?” he asked with a nod to the knitting.

Natsume, who as far as Waya could tell had the emotional range of ‘polite-smile,’ ‘polite-disinterest,’ and ‘politely-laughing-at-boys-being-idiots,’ actually looked frustrated for a moment. Color him surprised, she was human after all. (He was never telling Hikaru some of the speculations people their age had when Touya got married what sort of person his wife could be. …Hikaru probably knew some of them, but he probably didn’t know half of the rumors circulating about how he fit into everything.)

“Not yet,” Natsume said with more thinly veiled frustration. “But I will figure it out. I can do embroidery, this should not be too difficult to figure out.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it,” Hikaru said optimistically. When Natsume wandered back out, he poured some tea and said, “I don’t know if she’s going to get more than the basic stitch, but boy is she going to try.”

“Why knitting?”

“She can’t garden much with the morning sickness and needed a new hobby? I think she figured she could knit the baby something?” Hikaru shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but Akira figured it out and tried to show her and it’s still not computing for more than the first stitch.”

“…Hormones?”

“Yeah, can’t say that or she’ll be annoyed. Maybe knitting is just not her thing. She sews great though.”

“Maybe she should stick to sewing then,” Waya said.

“Akira and I have a bet how long it takes until she buries her knitting in the garden.”

Waya shook his head. “I’d never believe this would be your life a year ago.”

Hikaru grinned. “Me neither.” He clacked down a black stone, placing it just right so that Waya lost a good chunk of territory in the top-left corner of the board. Waya swore at him. “So I think I will be winning this game.”

“Like hell,” Waya retorted, buckling in for the rest of the end game. He was going to make Hikaru fight for every last moku.

*o*o*

“Natsume,” Akira said, struggling to keep a neutral face.

“Yes, Akira-san?” Natsume’s frown was starting to leave a crease between her eyebrows.

“I’m starting to feel…”

Natsume looked up, a smile on her face that dared him to comment. “Yes, Akira-san?”

Akira took a step back and cleared his throat. “Natsume, perhaps knitting is not for you.”

Natsume looked at the knitting in her lap. It had added and dropped stitches, gaps, and was loose in some places and too tight in others, and while there was a chunk that was fairly consistent and even, every attempt to progress in knitting techniques was clearly a failure. The frown on her face went deeper. “I’ve improved from the beginning.”

“You have,” Akira agreed. “And I’m sure you can learn.” Given enough time and a calmer mind. “But it’s stressing you out.”

“I’m fine,” Natsume said, her tense shoulders at odds with her words.

Akira risked setting a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Are you even having fun with it?”

Natsume’s lips pressed together stubbornly for a moment before she sighed. The knitting got balled up in one hand. “It seemed like a relaxing hobby,” she said ruefully. “I have never felt less patient with something in my life,” she admitted. “I feel like I should at least make something before calling it a failed effort.”

“I don’t think anyone can say you haven’t tried.” Akira tugged at the neater area of her attempt. “Maybe a simple scarf?”

“I do have all this yarn,” she said. “It seems I was too ambitious.”

“Try again sometime in the future.”

“When I don’t have to worry about stress you mean?” Natsume said with a hint of her usual humor back in her eyes. She touched Akira’s hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for your concern, Akira-san.”

Hikaru, naturally, arrived home at that moment, strolling into the kitchen in a hurry. He stopped, seeing them close together at the kitchen table. “Oh, were you guys having a moment? Because if you wanted to have a private moment right now, I can just…”

Akira rolled his eyes. “Come here.”

Hikaru grinned and strolled over, draping an arm around Natsume’s shoulders and leaning against Akira’s side. “So, what was I missing?”

“An intervention,” Natsume said with a wry smile. She tossed the knitting on the table.

“Oh. Oh!” Hikaru laughed. “Okay. Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but good. I’m pretty sure you were going to stab someone with those needles eventually at the rate you were going.”

“Of course not,” Natsume said, “I would never.”

Something in the demure, deadpan way she said it had Hikaru cracking up into Akira’s shoulder. “Uh, huh. Sure.”

“An inanimate object on the other hand,” Natsume said with a small smile spreading on her face.

“Oh no,” Hikaru giggled. “Yeah, this intervention is needed. Next thing I know you’ll be threatening things with kitchen knives.”

“And ruin my good knives?”

Akira gave in and laughed with them. It always amazed him how Hikaru could turn the mood right around.

“But,” Natsume said with a sigh, “I don’t know what to do with my time now.”

“If you were planning to try to do baby clothes, there’s still sewing,” Hikaru pointed out. His face lit up. “Ooh, you could make little formal clothes and the baby can look like a stuffy mini version of Akira!”

“Hikaru,” Akira said, pinching him in the side.

Hikaru elbowed back shamelessly. “Bet you the baby inherits your old man serious face. All…” He tried to imitate Akira’s expression, but ruined it because he couldn’t stop laughing.

“I don’t look like an old man.”

“You looked old when you were twelve, Akira,” Hikaru said. He grinned, bright and irresistible and so close Akira could count his eyelashes. “But I guess you’re too pretty to be a stuffy old geezer.”

“And I am not playing a game with you tonight,” Akira threatened, hiding his smile as Hikaru tried to backpedal, still laughing.

“No, no! It’s a compliment! C’mon, Akira, you’d be punishing yourself!”

Natsume laughed at them both.

Things weren’t so different yet after all.

*o*o*

Natsume and her mother made their way to their local shrine. They left more than the normal offering because this was important. This was the future—of her child, of her family, of Akira’s family name. Natsume prayed for a healthy child. She prayed for a future of happy smiles and balanced support. She prayed to be strong enough to keep the life growing in her secure enough to meet that future and beyond it.

Her mother was warm at Natsume’s side, her clap just a fraction behind her daughter’s. Who knew what her mother prayed for specifically, but they were united on a safe pregnancy, safe birth.

When Natsume opened her eyes, she saw her mother looking at her, maternal fondness in her eyes. It wasn’t something her mother frequently expressed, though Natsume never doubted that she cared. Still, the tenderness in her mother’s eyes as she cupped a hand at Natsume’s face filled her with warmth. This was why a shrine trip was made, mother and daughter, to pray. This was connecting the family together down the line.

It was the closest she’d felt to her mother in a long while.

“Let’s buy some charms and a sash,” her mother said, voice gentle. She stood straighter than she usually did, with purpose.

Later, maternity sash in place, Natsume tucked a charm up her sleeve with the memory of a day well spent with her mother.

*o*o*

They were trying, really they were. Hikaru had even tried reading one of Natsume’s gardening books, but no matter how much she tried to explain and how the book described things, Hikaru and Akira still weren’t doing as good a job as Natsume did. Of course, they had less time to spend on gardening than she used to, but it wasn’t pristine and overflowing with life the way it was when she tended it, a bit more haphazard and gone wild with unintended neglect since bending over a lot was becoming a problem.

Natsume looked at her garden from the porch, a wry smile on her face as Akira attempted to dead-head one of her flower bushes with pruners. He was leaving the flower heads where they fell and the bare stalks poking up, and Hikaru was pretty sure that wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing, but it was a bit too late to get him to change. He’d already gone through a half a flower bed.

“Are they getting enough water?” Hikaru asked with the watering can in one hand. “I can’t tell.”

“You’re doing fine, Hikaru,” Natsume said.

“Your face says we aren’t.”

“I’m glad for your help. Otherwise, everything would be halfway to dead by now. I’m merely wondering how I can get it ready for winter with the least amount of effort.”

“Wait, don’t you usually cut all the dead off to compost and prune things?” Hikaru shuffled the watering can around to his other hand; it was dripping on his shoe. “I think we can handle cutting dead plant bits.”

“Mm.” Natsume tilted her head as Akira missed the dead flower he was aiming for and accidentally cut off a healthy one. Hikaru tried not to grin as he heard a quiet swear. “I’m sure you can handle that bit, but I cannot leave you two to do the pruning. Your help is appreciated, but you wouldn’t know where to start. To be blunt, please don’t attempt it; I don’t want you to accidentally kill my plants.”

“Would it do that?” It had seemed like she pruned a bit of everything last year. Cutting off bits didn’t seem that hard.

“On certain plants? Yes. Or at least set back the work I’ve put into them.” She pursed her lips. More and more often, she showed little things like irritation that she used to hide. Hikaru thought it was probably a positive thing, but it was also a little strange since he’d literally known her for years before seeing some of the expressions she’d had in the last few months. “I could probably manage if I took a chair with me…”

“Will it cause more stress not to touch it, or to touch it?” Hikaru asked.

Natsume hummed again. She looked up at Hikaru and she looked tired, and it was one of those moments when he remembered she was actually older than him and Akira. Age wasn’t something he thought about with her; she felt like she’d come into the world calm and dignified and with a quiet sense of humor. “I know it is not my livelihood the way Go is for you and Akira-san, but it is my passion… I had not really considered how having a child would complicate that since I am always at home anyway.” She touched her stomach, and Hikaru had to look at the bump. It still caught him off guard, but maybe that was because it was always growing. “I do want a child, and I have no regrets. I suppose I am just missing being able to immerse myself in this.”

Not for the first time, Hikaru tried to picture having to go without Go for months and shivered. Yeah, that would be pretty awful. “We’ll try with a chair then. I mean the doctors said not to stress or work too hard, but this is also something that calms you down.”

“Thank you, Hikaru.” She smiled and glanced back at Akira. “Ah…could you please stop him from cutting those? I want a few to go to seed.”

“Of course,” Hikaru said, giving a little bow to make her giggle. Of course the laugh was more because he managed to spill the watering can in the process. “And I’ll…get back to watering!”

He wasn’t ever going to be a gardener, but at least they weren’t doing completely terrible. The effort was worth it for Natsume’s sake. And it was pretty calming. Or at least it was when Akira wasn’t being awful at it. Hikaru jogged over to pass on instructions.

*o*o*

Natsume’s mother moved around Natsume’s kitchen with the air of a woman slowly familiarizing herself with everything. She’d visited several times now, and seemed to plan to make it a regular thing, which Natsume wasn’t sure about. Her mother had both a bad back, and a very different preference of organization. Natsume might be fine relenting to her mother’s preferences in her childhood home, but she was starting to lose patience by the fifth time her mother absentmindedly reordered something in a cupboard.

This, too, would have been fine in the long run—if Natsume had anything, it was patience—but Hikaru was home and this was only the third time they’d ever met, and her mother Did Not Approve of him despite the fact that he was just as much a respectable Go player as Akira was.

Natsume thought it was probably Hikaru’s hair that first earned her mother’s ire. Moving in with her and Akira had been the final weight to tip the scale to permanent dislike no matter how kindly Natsume or Akira presented him.

Natsume was unspeakably grateful her mother had never witnessed Akira and Hikaru’s post-game ‘discussions.’

“You should cook in batches,” her mother said, reordering the spices, “that way you have food for several days so you can rest. I know it isn’t as satisfying or elaborate, but as you near your due date, you will need to conserve your energy for your child. Of course I will come here in the last few weeks to cover tasks you cannot do.”

Natsume did not point out that there were tasks her mother was frequently unable to do in her own household.

“And of course I will help the first week after the baby is born—”

“We intend to take shifts with that,” Natsume interrupted. “Akira and Hikaru have already informed the Go Institute that they will need time around March.”

Her mother shut the cupboard and frowned in her direction. “Does your husband think you are incapable of caring for your own child?”

“We have discussed shared parenting duties,” Natsume said, trying to project calm and serenity. It was much more difficult lately; it was amazing how quickly prolonged physical discomfort would wear down her patience. “I am going to be doing the bulk of child care.” There had never been a question about that; she didn’t have a job and both Akira and Hikaru did. “But for the first month especially we intend to share the burden as equally as possible.”

“And your…guest… is going to help?” her mother said skeptically. “How…generous.”

Natsume suppressed a sigh. “He is a part of this household,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time.

As if to prove a point, Hikaru walked past the kitchen with a basket of laundry—since her pregnancy progressed to affecting her balance some, both her husband and Hikaru had stepped in with any chore requiring lifting and balancing heavy objects. Hikaru might naturally be a chaotic person who put off his personal chores, but he was remarkably attentive in taking over Natsume’s. It was touching actually. It also gave her plenty to tease him about since he was terrible with remembering laundry when he first moved in, at least up until he agreed to let her do his wash along with everything else that needed it.

The sight of Hikaru balancing a basket on his hip made Natsume smile and her mother purse her lips.

“He does his part,” Natsume said, glad to have actual visual proof to convince her mother.

*o*o*

“Wait,” Akira said, setting down the dish he was drying. “Your grandfather is still alive?”

Hikaru, elbow deep in dish water, frowned. “Yeah? Did I ever say otherwise? I mean he’s really old, so I dunno how much longer he has, but he’s not dead yet.”

Akira set down the towel too, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hikaru, your Go-playing grandfather, the one that you’ve mentioned half a dozen times tried to get you interested in Go in elementary school, is alive and you somehow have never introduced us?”

Hikaru blinked at him. “Should I have?”

Akira exchanged a look with Natsume where she was putting away the last of the leftovers. “Hikaru, I have had dinner with your parents at least every other month for several years now. How have I not met the sole relative that actually appreciates a game of Go?”

Hikaru scratched at his face, leaving a blob of soap bubbles behind. “I mean, I did consider it ages ago when we first were really friends. Just.”

“Just what?”

With clear embarrassment, Hikaru refused to meet his eyes. “…I thought he might like you better back then.”

“Hikaru!”

“It’s a legitimate concern! My mom likes you better than she likes me!” Hikaru said.

“That’s just because you can’t be bothered to be polite,” Akira said. “Ever.”

“She’s my mom. She wouldn’t know how to react to me if I was polite.”

Natsume shook her head and put the last of the dirty dishes in Hikaru’s wash water. “It sounds like we should make a trip sometime soon, hmm?” she said, looking between the two of them. “I for one would like to meet another member of Hikaru-san’s family.”

“You too?” Hikaru asked, pouting.

“Well, neither of us have grandparents still alive for you to meet,” she said practically. “And as you’ve said, he does enjoy Go.”

“Ugh, fine. Gramps is going to be so weird about this, I know it.” Hikaru returned to scrubbing dishes. “You’ll probably like my grandmother though. She likes flowers.”

“Your grandmother’s alive too?” Akira said.

“Uggghhh,” Hikaru groaned, blocking his ear with his shoulder. “I get it, I suck with communicating! I’ll call them tomorrow!”

Natsume gave his cheek a kiss. “Thank you.”

(Everything went great with the visit. And Hikaru was right about his grandfather liking Akira more—up until Hikaru got in a debate with Akira over a few stone placements. Then he’d laughed and said that he now understood why someone like Akira would be with his idiot grandson. Natsume spent the entire time sipping tea with Hikaru’s grandmother and talking flowers and babies. It was a very relaxing trip over all.)

*o*o*

Natsume sat propped up by pillows on the bed, her growing belly carefully on display as Akira and Hikaru set a hand there. The fluttery feeling of kicks pressed back. It was fascinating now, like butterflies in her stomach, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t be quite so awe inspiring a month from now when the baby could kick with more strength.

“Ohmigosh, I felt that,” Hikaru whispered. He looked up at Natsume, eyes bright. “Natsume, it’s an actual baby in there.”

Natsume laughed. “Yes, yes it is.”

“You read the books,” Akira said. “You know what it’s supposed to look like by this point.”

“Yeah, but knowing and feeling are two different things.”

“Hmm.” Akira had a calm, happy smile on his face, more relaxed at the moment than he had been lately. It was nice to see. Natsume had worried that her pregnancy was causing him as much stress as it was her sometimes. Natsume was beyond glad that the awful morning sickness had finally let up.

“You know,” she said, pulling their hands to a different spot when the baby moved, “the books also say that the baby can start recognizing outside voices around now.”

“So we should…talk to it?” Hikaru asked, glancing up. “Uh, hey little baby in there. You grow all big and strong, ok?”

Akira snorted.

Hikaru elbowed him in the side. “I feel ridiculous talking to her stomach,” he mumbled.

Akira snorted again. “You used to talk to yourself all the time as a teenager. Pretend you’re doing that.”

Hikaru’s smile faltered. “That… That was different.”

Natsume caught his hand, lacing their fingers together. She might not know what they were referencing, but Akira did, and he looked apologetic immediately. Hikaru squeezed her hand, grateful for the silent comfort.

“Sorry,” Akira said. “How about a story instead? Practice for when the baby’s born?”

“A story…” Hikaru leaned close to their tangled hands. “Once upon a time, there was a man who loved to play Go more than anything in the world…”

*o*o*

“I notice that your room is being converted into a nursery,” Natsume’s mother said.

If Akira’s mom was a nice mother-in-law figure in Hikaru’s life, Natsume’s mother was kind of the exact opposite. Don’t get him wrong, she definitely cared about her daughter. She just was really nosey and really didn’t like Hikaru. At all. “Uh, yeah,” Hikaru said. He was just studying in the living room. Where had she even come from? He looked for Natsume. She wasn’t there.

“My daughter’s resting,” Natsume’s mother said, probably reading his mind. “Where will you be staying once it’s complete?”

“The… other guest room?” Hikaru hazarded. It had been made very clear that he shouldn’t mention he slept pretty much every night in bed with Akira and Natsume.

“The one that’s being used for storage? Where are you sleeping now?”

“The… living room? Futon?” Hikaru held up his book like a barrier. You’d think he’d be used to kind of scary old people considering his job, but no, there was kind of scary old Go people, and then there were kind of scary older mothers who thought they had their daughter’s best interest in mind. Yikes. “I’m helping do all the painting and redecorating in the nursery I swear!”

Natsume’s mother sniffed. “You’d better be. You realize now would be an ideal time to finally get your feet under yourself and find an independent home? You’re only going to be in the middle of Natsume and Akira-san building a family.”

Hikaru was getting really tired of this. She wasn’t even hinting anymore. “Look, I get that it’s not the usual way of doing things, but I’m planning to be another set of hands. I mean more people can only help when it comes to child care, right? Isn’t that why you keep coming over?”

The nasty look that got him was enough to have him hiding behind his book again. Yikes.

Well if he was going to be on her shit list no matter what he said… “And also, they already have a family, they’re just adding to it? You don’t have to have kids to have a family.”

“You are entirely missing my point,” Natsume’s mother said curtly.

“And you’re missing mine!” Hikaru wasn’t going to get anything done today, was he? At least the woman was polite enough whenever Akira was around. “I get you don’t like me. But I’m not going anywhere because they want me here as much as I want to be here.”

Another sniff, but she looked away so the topic was probably dropped for today. “You had best keep making yourself useful then,” she said, leaving the room.

“Ugh,” Hikaru sighed. “You and me both, lady.” He kind of wondered if it wouldn’t be a better idea to just move back in to his parents’ place for a little bit. But that would mean no cuddling with Akira and Natsume, no morning Go matches, or debates in the evening. No garden or talking to Natsume’s belly-bump. No, he’d put up with getting looked at like he was a home wrecker in favor of all the positive things.

“They are so lucky I love them,” he muttered, going back to his kifu studies.

*o*o*

Akira had a large bed. Or at least it had seemed large. It had fit him and Hikaru and Natsume well enough curled up together around each other.

But as he found himself dangling on the edge of the bed for the fourth time that month, Akira had to wonder if they maybe needed a larger one. “Natsume,” he murmured, gently pressing his wife’s shoulder. Her face scrunched, lacking the dignity she had when she was awake. “You’ve moved again.”

It wasn’t a problem when she slept on her back. But the closer to the end of her pregnancy, the more comfortable she was on her side—and the more space she took up. She’d also become a restless sleeper. Akira and Hikaru both found themselves at the edge of the bed more than once. It just depended on who was sleeping where that night. By mutual agreement, they’d put Natsume in the middle because it was better for one of them to get kicked out than for her to accidentally roll off the bed.  

“Natsume?”

“Mm… Akira?” She patted at his arm.

That was new, too, how in her less careful moments, she dropped honorifics like she sometimes did with Hikaru. It made him feel things that he didn’t want to examine too closely because they felt warm and embarrassing to dwell on, just like how he tried not to dwell on certain things Hikaru did that made his heart melt. “Budge over a bit?” Akira said gently.

“Mm,” Natsume hummed, rolling the other direction clumsily. She latched on to Hikaru. Her waking moments she was always controlled with touch, but asleep, she clung to anything warm.

Akira slid close against her back, an arm draped over her and onto Hikaru’s hip. The pillows smelled like both of them. Before he got married, he’d been worried that it wouldn’t work out. That despite how well the meetings had gone, and how their personalities hadn’t clashed, that the differences would be too much to handle, or that he’d be unhappy with a marriage that hadn’t been built from romantic love.

Love was a lot more complex than he’d given it credit, and manifested in so many different ways.

Happiness had never been a direct factor in any of this either, an aim for contentment at best. Happiness was something Akira knew better now than he had his whole life.

Hikaru made a sleepy sound, burrowing closer to Natsume, and somehow getting an arm around her and his fingers brushing Akira’s hair.

Akira closed his eyes, smiling.

*o*o*

Natsume couldn’t get comfortable, a constant ache in her lower back as the day went on. Last week she’d had a contraction scare, but it had turned out to be false contractions. With another week and a half until her projected due date, she wasn’t convinced this pain was the real deal or not. Her back ached plenty this last month with having to hold up unbalanced weight.

She stopped her attempt at dinner, rubbing her back. They had a bag packed for the clinic and the midwife and doctor were a phone call away. She didn’t want to scare Akira and Hikaru if it was a false alarm again.

In an hour, both men were due home.

Natsume resumed cooking, ignoring the pain as best she could. It was getting a bit more frequent, but it might also be that she was dwelling on it too much and skewing what was actually happening. Vegetables into stir fry, cubes of meat, a bubbling sauce to glaze them, the rice cooker set to complete a few minutes before cooking was completed. Miso soup prepared with fresh dashi. Fresh fruit diced with red bean jelly for desert. A mild green tea to accompany everything.

The front door opened, Hikaru arriving first from the sound of it. His presence always filled the space where Akira moved quiet and unobtrusive most of the time. Natsume breathed through a stronger pain. Was it a contraction? Was the pain a handful of minutes later also one? She waited, still not a clear pattern.

“I’m home!” Hikaru said, sticking his head in the kitchen.

“Welcome home. Care to set the table?”

He gave her a kiss, casual as ever, before gathering up bowls and plates and utensils.

Natsume put the dessert away for after the meal, keeping it chill.

“Cups to match the teapot?”

“Please,” Natsume said, rubbing her back. Her legs were beginning to ache too.

Five minutes later, there was Akira, coming from teaching for the day. Hikaru greeted him enthusiastically. They sat down, like normal, dishing out food and talking about their day and Natsume listened, but she couldn’t quite keep attention on the conversation or the meal.

Pain. Count out the minutes…three…four…five…six…Pain. More regular. And definitely shortening in their intervals. It was a bit terrifying even though she’d know what had to happen eventually. No book, no class, no relaxation or meditation could adequately prepare her for this.

“Are you okay?” Hikaru’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Are you not feeling good? Is something wrong with the baby?” He and Akira looked equally concerned. It was almost funny how they kept doing that this last month if she looked the slightest bit off.

Natsume smiled despite the discomfort. “I’m fine. Although… I believe I might be going into labor.”

Hikaru’s chopsticks clattered onto his plate. Akira dropped a bite of rice in his lap. “Now?” Hikaru squeaked.

“I thought it might be another false alarm,” she said. She took another bite of her food. She was going to need the energy no matter how her stomach was fluttering with sudden nerves as reality asserted itself. “The contractions are getting more frequent and stronger though.”

“Shouldn’t we be going? Like now?”

Akira seemed to be frozen in place, just like he had been when the false alarm happened.

“There’s no reason not to finish dinner. Even with contractions this close, it’s going to be hours before the baby comes.” That was the truly daunting thought, the task ahead of her looming. She hoped she would be strong enough for this.

“But, but…”

“You would rather it goes to waste?”

“Of course not!” Hikaru picked up his chopsticks, fumbling them.

“Eat, then I will call my mother and we can drive to the clinic.”

“Right,” Hikaru said, voice tight with panic. “Okay. Sure. Akira, eat!”

Mechanically, Akira did, still looking shell shocked and a little bit terrified.

One would think, Natsume thought wryly, that they were the ones who would be spending the next however long in labor. She braced against another contraction and finished her miso soup. Well, one of them had to be calm. It might as well be her.

*o*o*

They’d left dishes in the sink and leaving had been a mess of phone calls—the doctor, parents and in-laws, midwife. Hikaru couldn’t hold still. There were so many people all here for Natsume and he couldn’t stand watching her serious expression of determination without wanting to jump out of his own skin.

Akira was doing much better, but Hikaru had a feeling Akira was halfway in shock and working on autopilot. He was holding one of Natsume’s hands as the midwife instructed her to carefully walk up and down the hallway to ease along some of the process. Natsume’s mother was on her other side. Hikaru’s mom and Akira’s mother were there too, but a little ways away and he had no idea how to feel about any of this.

And there would be hours of this before the baby was actually here.

Hikaru slipped out the door for a moment to breathe. He wasn’t helping anyone in his panic.

He slipped out his phone. “C’mon, c’mon, pick up.”

The ringing on the other end stopped as it was answered.

“Oh thank goodness—”

“Hikaru what the hell. It’s almost midnight.”

“I know. But. Natsume’s having the baby!”

“Now?”

“Yes! Sort of! Babies take a lot of time to be born, especially the first time I guess!”

“Then why the hell are you talking to me? Go be supportive!”

“I need to freak out at someone! They’re all in there being calm!” Okay, Akira was the opposite of calm, but he wasn’t panicking in a distracting manner, so he had a free pass.

“You said you all read books together on this, right?”

“Right.” Hikaru ran a hand through his hair. It was shaking. Hoo boy.

“And you each went to one of Natsume’s birthing classes with the meditation and breathing thingy.”

“Yeah.”

“So use some of what you know, dumbass!”

“Wayaaaaa,” Hikaru whined. “I’m so freaked out I’m worried I’m going to freak her out and if she’s freaked out what if it makes things go wrong and if things go wrong, what if something happens to the baby and—”

“Breathe,” Waya commanded. “Natsume’s a really calm person. And even if she’s scared as heck—and she probably is—she’s not going to let you freaking out mess up her head space.” Hikaru didn’t answer and Waya sighed. “Look, I’m in Osaka right now and I couldn’t get to Tokyo tonight if I tried. I’ll be there in the morning, ok? Just stop freaking out and go help support her. Just… think of it as a Go match. You’re playing against your own anxiety, but you have to win for her sake or something, ok?”

“Yeah.” Actually, putting it in those terms made Hikaru weirdly calmer. Gosh Waya was a good friend sometimes. “Thanks.”

“Whatever. Go be supportive. I’ll drag Isumi along when I come tomorrow. Keep me posted.”

“Yeah.” Hikaru hung up before Waya could. His mother poked her head out into the hall and waved him over. Oh boy.

“She’s going back into the birthing room, go keep Akira calm,” his mother ordered.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Hikaru said.

Natsume’s mother gave him a weird look when he walked in to stand next to Akira, but you know what? He was past feeling worried about her. Her opinion was her opinion and he was here for Akira and Natsume and their child. Heck, the midwife wasn’t even fazed by any of this.

He locked eyes with Natsume, a moment in between contractions and some of the tension around her eyes lessened.

They need you, he reminded himself. One hand on Akira, one hand around where Akira and Natsume’s hands were tangled together. It was going to be a long night.

*o*o*

“So,” Waya said looking at the baby in Akira’s arms. “Whose kid is it?”

“Waya!” Isumi gasped looking horrified. Hikaru rolled his eyes.

“Real nice, Waya. She’s Akira’s obviously.” Hikaru elbowed Waya in the ribs. “What do you take me for? I’m not having a kid with someone else’s wife.”

“No you just sleep wi—”

Haruka

Kanji for sunlight and flower or katakana spelling like    others?

Natsume’s name is spelled “Summer Bud”  (as in leaf-bud) so plant theme to go    with “bright” and “light” theme with Akira and Hikaru

               Isumi clamped a hand over Waya’s mouth. He bowed apologetically to Akira who watched with the bemused expression he reserved for Hikaru’s friends and some of his lover’s odder personality quirks. “Sorry about Waya, he doesn’t have a brain to mouth filter.”

“I can understand his uncertainty,” Akira said with tolerance. He leaned against Hikaru’s side as he looked at his daughter curled in his arms sleeping peacefully. “We discussed it earlier when children came up. Any children born will biologically be mine.”

“So how will parenting go?” Waya asked wiggling out of Isumi’s grip. Isumi frowned but Waya figured everyone expected him to be blunt. He might as well ask what they were both curious about.

“We’re sharing duties.”

“But I’ll be ‘Uncle Hikaru!’” Hikaru cut in with a grin. “She’s so tiny…Wonder if she’ll look more like you or Natsume?”

“I will be happy regardless.” Akira sighed, leaning heavier against Hikaru’s side. He had been up since three in the morning. His daughter came into the world less than four hours ago, and it was noon now. He hadn’t slept at all, too worried for Natsume’s sake and caught up in the blindsiding realization that he was actually a father now.

“Where’s Natsume-san?” Isumi asked.

“Sleeping,” Akira said. He smiled. “Bringing a life into the world is no easy task.” If he was so exhausted just from watching he could only imagine how tired Natsume was. If Hikaru hadn’t been there he wasn’t sure he would have been able to handle all the emotions. “Her parents were here earlier. Her mother wants to move in with us to help take care of the baby.”

“Ooh. That could be awkward.” Waya winced as Hikaru whapped him on the head. Really, there was nothing wrong with saying what everyone was thinking!

Akira couldn’t help but laugh softly, and more than a little hysterically, over the thought of his in-laws invading his home. It had been difficult enough to explain Hikaru’s constant presence during Natsume’s pregnancy and they got weird looks when he stuck around when Natsume went into labor. His daughter shifted in his arms, making soft noises at the back of her throat.

“What’s her name?” Isumi asked, politely diverting their attention back to the baby.

“Haruka,” Akira said. He traced her soft, red cheek. Newborns came into the world red and squished-faced and crying, but he seemed to find her perfect anyway. “The kanji for ‘sunlight’ and ‘flower’.”

“Natsume chose it,” Hikaru said.

“I’m surprised you used kanji since you both have names in katakana,” Waya joked. “Only just born and you’re imposing ideals on the little bean.”

“Little bean?” Hikaru echoed incredulously. “Woah, no calling our daughter a bean, Waya.”

“It’s like a cute affectionate nickname!” Waya protested. He dodged another half-hearted flail in his direction, hiding behind an exasperated Isumi. “I mean you’re pretty much her parent too, which makes Isumi and I extra kind-of-sort-of uncles, so, nickname!”

“Just call her by her name!”

Akira chuckled. Haruka wasn’t as amused by the noise though, and she scrunched up her face unhappily, a sound that was somewhere between a croak and a whine coming from her throat.

“…Touya, your daughter sounds like some sort of tree frog.”

This time Isumi smacked Waya on the back of the head. “And with that, we should give you your privacy,” he said. Isumi directed a genuine smile Akira’s way. “Congratulations again. We’ll visit properly after you have all returned home. We just wanted to make sure everything went okay.”

“I texted it did, didn’t I?” Hikaru muttered. He didn’t look annoyed though. Neither he nor Akira could hold on to irritation while the awe of having their daughter finally in the world. “I’ll catch you guys later. Uh, but we’ll see when that is. Pretty sure newborns take all your time and energy if the books are correct.”

“Thankfully we have three sets of parents and three of us,” Akira said just as Haruka started to cry properly.

“Good luck!” Waya called in parting.

Hikaru and Akira took Haruka back to Natsume, regrettably needing to wake her up; Haruka was hungry again.

Natsume woke from the noise, alert and worried for a handful of seconds before she saw Hikaru and Akira with the baby. She held out her arms and Haruka quieted some just from the transition.

“She knows her mom,” Hikaru said with a huge grin. Then, “Holy shit, Akira, we’re parents.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Akira said drily. He sat at Natsume’s bedside with Hikaru crowded too close as Natsume fed their daughter.

“We’re parents,” Hikaru repeated, like it was really hitting him, a bit choked up. “I love you guys so much.”

Natsume leaned until her shoulders pressed against Hikaru’s and Akira put a hand on her arm, Hikaru’s hip. Together.

******

AN: So, flower Akira was looking at that he didn't know the name of was a primrose. Baby's name has light connotations because both Akira and Hikaru (though written in katakana in the series) are names usually written with kanji for light. Since Natsume's name is written with kanji for Summer and Bud (like leaf bud), having a flower kanji in there worked too.

You know it's funny because I can remember being in a coffee shop in 2016 glaring at this word doc and trying to plan the stupid 7 course traditional meal and ranting to my friend about how I write myself into weird corners and then do research that I don't even use. Like how I 100% didn't need to plan that meal or do that research because it just got skimmed over. I spent at least 3 hours googling shit back then for a couple paragraphs. Such is writing I guess. This ended up a lot longer than I ever intended it to be with lots of googling pregnancy things that I didn't actually want to know, and Japanese traditions in pregnancy, that are actually kind of interesting from a cultural side of things (like the 'Japanese food for a Japanese baby' and how you're expected not to stress about things, you protect/keep warm your baby bump, can legally register the pregnancy to get government support/health care/information if you need it, how you're expected to eat and move around while in labor (food for energy, moving to help deal with pain) and to 1)not be loud when giving birth, 2) have a natural birth. You're also not supposed to gain a certain amount of weight during your pregnancy?? Like, weird.) Anyway, I've looked up some odd things over the years for this fic and others. I'm glad to finally post this and close the open doc on my computer and move the file to complete instead of unfinished folder.

[septic-dr-schneep]

Sorry I reblogged something instead of asking! I was gonna ask what would the egos biggest fears be?

Ahhh, I love exploring rational and irrational fears, you have no idea!This should be interesting…

Septic Boys

Anti: There’s nothing Anti fears more than weakness and failure. He’dnever, ever, ever admit it, but somewhere in the back of his mind he fears theday that Jack and the fans might band together and truly defeat him. Apart fromthat, he has an extreme aversion to intimacyand being touched; anyone who tries is likely to get a part of their handstabbed or cut off.

Jackieboy: He’s afraid of thunderstorms—or at least of the lightning,because when he was a novice superhero and he was learning how to navigate thesky, he got struck by lightning and knocked out of the air. For a while he didn’tdare to fly until he realized that it was keeping him from fulfilling his duty.He’s also afraid of the dentist, as previously discussed, because he finds itreally invasive.

Marvin: He has a fear of dogs, which doesn’t often become a problemunless he runs into one on the street or someone with a service dog happens tocome to his magic show. Just the sight of the dog makes him tense up and getflustered and he’ll usually try to get as far away from it as possible, but it’shard for him to focus after he notices it’s there. If the dog is passing him onthe street, he’ll levitate over it as quickly as he can and just hope it doesn’tleap for him.

Schneep: After an unfortunate encounter with Marvin’s magic and the oven,he’s extremely claustrophobic and doesn’t cook very often anymore. He also hasa fear of public performance. In the lab or the operating room, he’s supremelyconfident, but outside he’ll make any excuse not to get up in front of everyoneand do something for them, especially alone. He’d much rather cheer the otherEgos on from the sidelines. Above all, however…he fears Anti.

Chase: He fears being alone. Even when he’s not vlogging, he hangs outwith his editors and cameraman just because he clings to their company. They’renot close friends or anything, but if the other Egos are busy, he needs someone else to be with him. LikeJack, he’s also afraid of heights; he did try to get over it once when viewers ofhis vlog were demanding a Heights Challenge, but he was paralyzed as soon as hegot up there and Jackieboy had to carry him down.

Robbie: He fears being forgotten or abandoned. Rationally, he knows theothers take good care of him and that most of the time they want to, but there’s a part of him thatwonders how far their loyalty and care really goes. He’s also afraid ofdeception, that they’ve been lying to him all this time or that nothing hebelieves is real…Whenever he starts to have an existential crisis, he finds thenearest Ego, glomps onto them and doesn’t let go, even if he starts to fallapart.

Jameson: He’s afraid of loud noises, even more so than the instinctivestartling that the others get, which is very unfortunate given the others’ tendencyto hoot and holler constantly. He gets really jittery, overwhelmed with anxiety,and has to excuse himself to a quiet place so he can calm down and listen tonothing but his own thoughts. He also has a milder fear of the dark, sowhenever he has to brave it at night, he keeps talking because his speechslides are a light source.

Markimoos

Dark: He has an aversion to sleeping because he knows that’s when he’smost vulnerable. Anything could happen, but most of the time he’s able to risk itand sleep lightly for about half the night. The other half he spends reading,planning, or spying on the others, assessing their weaknesses while they can’tstop him. For reasons that he can’t or won’trecall, he also fears possession—being possessed and seeing others possessed.

Wilford: He’s afraid of responsibility, which is why he’s so often causingchaos and then leaving it behind for other people to clean up. He’s usuallyable to blame his carelessness on some other factor in the situation, but whenhe can’t, he gets easily flustered and defensive. He withdraws as much as hecan from the situation, provided he won’t look like a coward while he does it. Healso fears vengeance from those he’s wronged.

The Host: He doesn’t fear heights, but he does have a fear of falling. It ties into his fear of beinglost. When he first lost his eyes, he was completely discombobulated and oftenhad no idea where he was, which inevitably led to him tripping over somethingand falling. It was humiliating and upsetting and now that he has practice andcontrol of himself, he never wants to do it again.

Dr. Iplier: He may have no problem telling others that they’re dying, buthe fears his own death. He dreads what might happen if he weren’t around totake care of the others, which is why he constantly checks to make sure the fansare still interested in him, keeping him alive and well. He also fears others’opinions. If someone were to tell him that he was a failure, it would devastatehim, but he would try not to show it because he wouldn’t want to prove themright.

Google: He fears frailty, change, and inadequacy. Any time his systemsoverheat in the sun or he malfunctions because of a glitch or doesn’tunderstand a nuance of what the humans do, it both infuriates and terrifies him.He wants the other Egos’ respect, particularly Dark and the Host, and he wantsto be good enough at what he does that they can consider him an ally. Thinkingthat he hasn’t reached that point yet is what gives him a lot of hisdetermination.

Bing: He has a fear of crowds and of being alone, mostly because of theincident when Google created his “brothers” to gang up on him. Whenever he’sone in a crowd, he gets incredibly antsy and anxious and tries to duck out asgracefully as possible. If that doesn’t work, he’ll just pick up his skateboardand run, no matter who gets in his way. He’s also afraid of his own success; ifhe were to replace Google as the main search engine, he wouldn’t know what todo.

Yandere: Predictably, he fears abandonment and rejection, but not justfrom his love. There are only a few other Egos he considers his friends and ifthey were to leave him behind, he would agonize over it. He’s overly clingy andneedy because of it, as a means of testing their loyalty, and any sign thatthey might be annoyed with him breaks his heart. He’ll become distant and moodytowards them until they show him proper attention again or until he can’t standbeing alone anymore.

Bim: He has a fear of dogs, which is why he avoids hanging out with Chicawhen none of the others are there to be mediators and keep her calm. Much worsethan that, however, is his fear of insects and reptiles. He panics as soon ashe sees a spider or a snake, even if it’s in the backyard, and he’ll screechfor one of the stronger Egos to come and get rid of it. Most of them can’tresist giving him a hard time for it, but he hasn’t gotten any better about itover time.

Silver Shepherd: Like Mark, he’s deathly afraid of water and drowning,but not just in the ocean. There have been plenty of times that he’s refused togo swimming with the others because he doesn’t want to imagine what mighthappen if he got caught underwater. (This largely has to do with Wilford ratherviolently dunking him, because Will has no concept of self-control.) He alsohas a fear of vulnerability; he always swallows his pride when the others makefun of him.

Edgar: He shares Bim’s nervousness around reptiles but not to such anextreme; he just takes some healthy steps back and is usually the one Bim sendsto get a braver Ego. He also has an unusual aversion to making phone calls andother kinds of advertising; he’d much rather be staring into a camera when hetalks because it feels less personal to him than actually addressing someoneone-on-one.

King of the Squirrels: He’s afraid of the sight and thought of blood,which is why he largely avoids Wilford, Dr. Iplier, and especially the Host. He used to have a fear of loneliness thathelped him associate with them anyway, but ever since they started ignoring/excludinghim from their various activities, he’s accepted that as a part of his life andkeeps to himself and his kingdom outside. Because of that, he has eco-anxiety:the fear of environmental destruction.

Jim and Jim: The brothers fear very little but what they do fear, theyfear immensely. After the incident in Markiplier Manor, both of them areincredibly paranoid about ghosts, demons, and zombies. Dark absolutelyterrifies them because they know he had something to do with the situation andhe already despises them because of their nosiness. Apart from that, ReporterJim is, quite randomly, afraid of going blind and Cameraman Jim is afraid of fire.

[kimberlylam1997]

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[lillotte17]

Hi! I just read the almost-kiss between Aili & Uthvir from the General Lavellan AU and I have a question... When are these dorks finally going to get what's happening between them? Also Baby Fenris AU may be one of the most adorable thing EVER (Fenris was my favorite DA2 character <3). Are Aili and Uthvir actually a couple in this AU? Can we get more of this AU pretty please? (Wow so many questions =3)

Gonna use this ask to kill a whole flock of birds with one stone!

The ‘normal’ GL AU is…sort of on hold at the moment. There were discussions of future plot points, but we kind of hit a road block in the form of Mythal and Falon’Din being a bunch of A-holes, and I am not sure if we are running with that being canon in that AU or what. So, they are stuck in Unrequited Mutual Affection Limbo until further plot ideas spring forth, unfortunately. :/

HOWEVER, Aili and Uthvir are most definitely a couple in the Baby Fenris AU! And I am very glad that you like it! I admit, it is one of my favorites as well.

As for a fill, here is the piece I promised @scurvgirl for Mother’s Day!

Tagging @feynites for Sunflower Uthvir!

Fenris is nearly three, and he thinks that he might finally be getting the hang of all this baby business. There are still several obvious disadvantages, of course, but at least now he can voice his opinion in something other than tears and incoherent babbling. And he is capable of toddling around largely under his own power. His parents are indulgent in his likes, and careful of exposing him to things he has shown an aversion to, like an over-abundance of magic and loudly cooing elves with grabby fingers.

He trusts them. He had not had much choice in the matter to begin with, but now he finds himself more readily turning to them for aid when something is troubling him, or when he finds something is beyond the reach of his current physical limitations. He still does not like nap time though, no matter how many times Aili attempts to sing its praises.

He had been loath to admit it at first, but it feels like…family. Or at least, what he had always supposed family must feel like. Similar to his little ring of friends in Kirkwall, though Hawke was much less likely to try and force him to eat his vegetables. Under most circumstances.

Aili and Uthvir do keep things from him, though. He knows that some of his ignorance stems from his own limited understanding of the language, but he has taken great strides on that front since he first landed here. And he has restricted exposure to things like politics and even the vast majority of the social structures of Arlathan, as no one is keen to discuss such things with a toddler. But it is hard not to take note of the differences between places like the large beautifully decorated suite of rooms that his little friend Tonlen lives in with his parents, and the colorless, cramped apartments of his grandparents.    

He deeply suspects that Elvhenan may yet have more in common with Tenvinter than an ostentatious layer of false beauty, and a penchant for using questionably large amounts of magic.  

It has also come to Fenris’ attention that a fair number of people…are not very nice to his new mother.

At the very least, they tend to be dismissive of her. Even a fair few of the people in the Tower where they live seem apt to run her over when she is not carrying Fenris in her arms. Not to say that Uthvir is held in any particularly great esteem among their fellows either, but Aili gets brushed off by almost anyone outside their little ring of friends and acquaintances.

He cannot say that he likes it, but given the district she and her family appear to be from, perhaps it is no great surprise.  

Some things are the same, no matter where you go.

She never seems to let it get to her, though he supposes that it is not something she would want him to bear witness to. Even when she is called away in service to her lady, which he has gathered that most elves with young children are generally excused from, she does her best to keep a cavalier attitude about the whole thing. Radiating calmness and assurance, even though he is fairly certain there is a faint curl of worry reaching out in his direction.

This morning is much the same.

They have set him up in his little corner with his silly little shovel-sword and his practice dummy, and assumed that he would be too distracted to pay much attention to their conversation, but he hears enough to be concerned.

“Are you certain you don’t want to wear any of my gear?” Uthvir asks, holding a thick, clumsy-looking leather chest piece as Aili tugs on a heavy pair of foot wraps that go half way up her thighs, “It is much nicer. I even have a few pieces with defensive magic woven into them.”

“I’d get in more trouble for wearing armor beyond my station than I’m likely to garner from any of the snakes,” she huffs out, “They aren’t aggressive. Ghilan’nain wouldn't be allowed to keep them in the city, otherwise. They’re just…big.”

“And spiky,” they point out with a frown, “Anything your lady deems strong enough to act as a sentinel for her estate should not be taken lightly.”

“I’m not taking it lightly, you just worry too much,” she grins, coming to claim her leathers from them and moving in to steal a kiss in the process. Uthvir snags her about the waist and draws her closer, coming back for seconds, and Fenris resolutely turns his gaze back to his toys.

After more than two years of watching them awkwardly tripping over their affections, he is glad to see that they have finally worked things out. But there are times he wishes that he had not been granted a first row seat to their intimacy. They generally try to be discreet, but… an average two-year-old would not be capable of recognizing some of the muffled sounds he has heard through the walls when he was meant to be napping, either.

He hears Aili giggle, and a few moments later there are light footfalls behind him and she scoops him into her arms. Peppering his face with his own share of kisses. He feels himself let out a little puff of surprise and delight, before common sense and dignity catch up with him and he lets loose a squeal of dismay.

“You’ll be good for Nanae, won’t you?” she asks as she walks towards the door with him, Uthvir trailing close behind.

He nods his head once at her, leaning up into her shoulder and curling a fist into her collar.

“Ah-lee be good, too,” he mumbles, some of his concern seeping out of him despite his best efforts, “Be safe.”

She wraps her arms around him just a little bit tighter at that, offering him a hug before reluctantly passing him into Uthvir’s waiting arms.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, little man,” Aili smiles at him, eyes soft, “Mama is good at her job, and there is nothing in the entire Empire that could keep me from coming home to you.”

Fenris can spot a platitude from a good distance off, but he nods at her again just the same, letting her plant another kiss against his brow and offering a little wave as she slips out the door and out of sight.

He feels his body tremble just slightly as a sound sneaks its way out of him. Something dangerously close to a sob.

“She’ll be alright,” Uthvir tells him, though they don’t seem any more assured of that than he is.~They spend the rest of the morning working on a puzzle. A present from Haninan, three dimensional, with just a touch of magic. When their work is finished, they have a tiny palace, just a little smaller than Fenris himself, complete with dozens of faintly glowing windows with minuscule figures visible within. He watches them move from room to room, going about fictional lives, content and carefree.

How pleasant it must be, to be forever trapped inside a perfect world.

The thought has him putting a foot through the stupid thing, and melting into a mess of tears shortly afterwards. Uthvir decides that is the signal for nap time, and Fenris cannot even refute the argument. He does at least manage to calm down enough to ask a question before he falls asleep.

“Ah-lee home soon?” he mutters somewhere in the vicinity of Uthvir’s neck.

“She has to move a lot of big animals into their new home,” they explain softly, “She probably won’t be back until dinner time.”

“Uvir go see,” he insists, thumping a little hand against their shoulder. Not that he wants Uthvir in the line of fire either, of course, but they seem to have much more in the way of armor and weapons training. If something goes wrong, they can do something. Ensure that they all get back here, where they belong. “Go to be making sure. Making it being safe.”

“And who is going to make sure you are safe while I am on this mission?” Uthvir wonders with a faint smirk.

Fenris only grumbles blearily in reply, having had similar discussions before. There is probably no way of convincing his caretaker that he would be perfectly capable of looking after himself for a few hours. He means to make a try for it anyway, but his eyelids have grown heavy, and before he is even completely aware of it, they slide closed against his will, and he drifts off to sleep.

However, his desires have apparently not gone entirely unheeded. When he wakes up from his nap, Uthvir washes him up a bit and gets him into the proper layers of clothing for going out and about. Far more than what would be necessary just for travelling down to the dining hall for lunch.

“Goin’ out?” Fenris wonders, tugging a bit at his sweater.

“Well…” Uthvir begins, sounding as though they are still not certain about the whole thing, “I was thinking that, perhaps after we had gotten a bit to eat ourselves, we might take Mama something for lunch.”

“Ya!” Fenris agrees readily. He does not generally like going out into the city, but he is willing to put up with it for this. And maybe seeing Aili interact with him will get her stupid supervisors to leave her alone for a while.

“You have to promise to stay with either me or Mama,” Uthvir says solemnly, “There are a lot of big animals around Ghilan’nain’s estate. No wandering off alone.”

“I be good!” he promises with a determined nod, “We all be stayin’ close together. Bein’ safe.”

Uthvir plants a kiss against his brow and he makes a small noise of complaint, but decides that it is a fair trade for the favor they are doing for him.~When they get to Ghilan’nain’s estate, a little basket of fruit and meat pies in tow, it is completely swarmed with people.

People and very large rainbow-colored snakes.

There seems to be a newly made habitat for them along one side of the courtyard, where a few elves are still moving in bags of sand, and some hollow logs for the creatures to coil up in when they want some shade. A half a dozen more are tinkering with a small, gently burbling pool in one corner which keeps sputtering great shoots of water at random intervals. Spraying hapless passersby.

The rest of the workers all seem to be tasked with physically moving the reptiles from their pens up near the entrance to the estate and settling them in their new homes. The smallest ones are nearly as long as Uthvir is tall, and their scales look as sharp and deadly as a thousand freshly forged daggers. Fenris is not certain how one might train a snake to be a sentinel, but he supposes that looking fearsome might be enough to deter a fair number of intruders.

The beasts are calm enough in their handler’s care, however. Enough that Fenris’ grip on Uthvir’s shirt slackens a bit when he finally catches sight of Aili on the far side of the courtyard. The snake in her arms is the color of a clear summer sky, streaked with emerald and peppered with purple spots, and it is so long that its tail is still on the ground behind her as she walks. It blinks at her with sleepy golden eyes, and if he did not know better, Fenris might think she was cooing at the thing.

“Mama!” he calls out loudly, forgetting himself in his relief.

Aili’s face turns sharply in their direction, and so does the snake’s, and both of their eyes go wide. She makes an odd jerking motion with her head, possibly trying for some kind of signal, since her hands are currently occupied. Uthvir takes a step away in response, but it is not enough.

The serpent jerks violently from her grasp, lunging towards the pair of them as if suddenly incensed.

Aili does her best to get her arms around the creature, ripping her poorly-made leathers to shreds in the process. Her left arm is a bright vivid red. A long gash tears its way across her cheek. She manages to pin the snake’s head against the smooth stones of the courtyard, magic burning in her hand.

She spares a moment to look back at Uthvir, thoroughly mussed and covered in scratches and streaks of blood.  

“Get Fenris out of here now!” she bellows through gritted teeth.

And without another word, Uthvir presses his face into their shoulder and beats a hasty retreat.~It is hard to say which of them is more distraught by the time they get back to June’s Tower. Though Fenris is admittedly more verbose with his unhappiness. Uthvir is clearly agitated, however, tearing their way through the churning passages until they track down the General in her office.

Haninan is there, and Fenris is momentarily relinquished to him as Uthvir has a quiet, hurried conversation with their superior, panic written into the very lines of their body. Fenris tries to listen in, but finds that his current babysitter is set on distracting him. Talking to him in that slow even voice that always seems to make him sleepy. Telling him a story about dragons or some other thing. Wholly unimportant right now, but after all that crying on the way here, he feels himself sagging in the man’s arms. Falling into a deep troubled sleep.

He wakes sometime later to the sound of a door closing gently. If the nest of blankets is any indication, Fenris would hazard a guess that Uthvir had curled up with him on the couch, waiting for Aili to come home.

He thinks he hears voices from her room, so he carefully scooches himself onto the floor and toddles his way over. But the door is shut and he is still too short to reach. He knocks gently, not wanting to rouse her if she is resting, wondering if they will let him see her if she is still hurt.

“Really, I’m fine,” he hears Aili say, “You don’t have to keep beating yourself up about it. I’m the one who insisted they were docile. I should have warned you to stay away from the estate. You had no way of knowing it would be able to sense the truth about your vallaslin.”

Uthvir says something unintelligible and he hears her laugh in reply. And then the laugh turns into a painful-sounding cough.

“Ah-lee?” he calls uncertainly. There is more muffled talking, shortly followed by footsteps coming to the door.

“Hello there, little one,” Uthvir says softly, “Are you hungry after your nap?”

Fenris shakes his head.

“Want Ah-lee,” he insists, “She okay?”

“Mama will be fine, but she needs to rest,” Uthvir tells him, lifting him up into their arms and walking further into the room, “Be gentle with her, alright?”

Fenris nods solemnly, tempted to make some remark about knowing better than to rough up someone recovering from an injury. But he supposes it is hardly the time to be ornery.

“She need nap times,” he asserts instead, “I just…wanna see her. Being okay.”

“I understand,” Uthvir murmurs, pressing a kiss into his hair that Fenris does not even attempt to ward off.

Aili is laying in her bed, absolutely drowning in blankets and pillows, no doubt at Uthvir’s insistence. She does not seem to have any sort of scars or bandages, but she holds herself awkwardly, trying to turn the pages of a book with only one hand. Her face lights up when she sees him, though.

“There’s my baby,” she declares, setting her book down and holding out a hand for him.

Uthvir sets him on the bed and he crawls over to her, allowing himself to be petted as he takes his own inventory of her person. He thinks a good portion of her skin on the left side of her body seems pink and flushed, and strangely…shiny. As if brand new.

He touches the hand she is not moving, and she winces slightly.

“I sorry,” he mutters quietly. And then he says it again, hiccupping through a fresh onslaught of tears, “I’m sorry, Mama.”

“Here now,” she coos, pulling him into an awkward, one-armed embrace, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, little heart. I promised I’d come home, didn’t I? And here I am.”

He hugs her back for that, feeling foolish and frustrated and unimaginably relieved. He presses a rare kiss of his own against her cheek and she beams at him. Unabashed in her delight, even through whatever pain she must still be in.  

If he hadn’t been so childish, so needy with his desire to keep her close at hand, all of this might have been avoided. He has always liked to hoard his treasures, and it is hard to remember sometimes, that she is more than just his caretaker. That she has survived in this wretched city with its disparity and ugliness for who knows how long, and it has not broken her yet. He should trust her more, he thinks. There will be a time when he will have a more direct means of offering protection, if she needs it. But for now, he will have to put his trust in her, and in Uthvir, to keep their family safe.

Somehow, he thinks she can manage it, despite the odds.

She is, after all, his mother.  

[claytonsarah1990]

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