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zippers-flowers-and-wine · 4 years

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so im a bit too nervous for kisses...… can I pet all of the mers hair? getting your hair pet or massaged always feels nice, for me at least (please dont murder me im scared)

They all pause, and you can see Narancia vibrate from where he's being held back, Mista's hand (and a tentacle.. Or two... Maybe 5) being the only thing keeping him from launching himself across the glass once again. Giorno smiles serenely when you give him a questioning look. "Although Narancia may be a favoured member of my cluster, I believe he's gone first quite a few times now, let's have..."

His green eyes flick upwards, gleaming as he eyes someone. "Fugo?"

The lionfish blinks, lifting his non-lethal wrist and bicep fins with a curious trill. Making some sort of high pitched squeal, clearly a beckoning calll, Giorno motions him over.

Eyeing his leader warily, because Giorno was often a bit of a asshole trickster, Fugo glides over. "Yes Giorno?"

Even under Fugo's piercingly scrutinizing stare, Giorno's facial features hardly even twitch, although a small flex of his tail may have given him away. Dude would be wicked good at poker if he ever got into that kinda stuff. "Lean down will you? I believe our dear asker wants to give us something."

Fugo purses his lips, squinting so hard that the stripes beneath his eyes scrunch up. It's clear he wants answers, and judging by the way Giorno drifts backwards, the pod's head isn't going to give him any. Sensing that, Fugo glances back at you, scanning your face with a sharp eye but ultimately sighing and doing as asked. You do your best to stay blank, though it's really hard with the most unstable mer staring at you so intently even as he leans within range.

"What is it that you wanted t-"

Willing yourself not to chicken out, and also hoping he doesn't nip at you for surprising him, you shove your hand into his thick hair, making him choke in his words.

Not giving him a chance to pull away, you scratch your nails lightly against his scalp, watching his shoulders droop along with his poisonous dorsal fins and he subtly pushes back into your hands. Your nails are gentle on his scalp, applying barely there pressure in random spots until Fugo shivers under your attention, so you pull back a bit, concerned. He doesn't let you move too far, looping his arms around your waist to pull you against his chest which makes him rest some of his weight against you.

You yip his name, still worried but a subtle vibration that ripples up and down your chest makes you pause. He's... He's purring. You peek up at him, carefully resting a hand back onto his head. Fugo clicks, nuzzling his face into your neck and shivering again. Right, so shivers are actually a good thing. Okay, good to know. Feeling a little braver as you internally awe at him, you reach back up to take in the texture of his hair. It's a little coarse, which is to be expected since he lived in saltwater, but you didn't expect it to have a wavy underside.

Gliding up to his three, hanging bangs, you lightly rake your nails across the skin between them. Its seems to please him, making him almost more boneless than he already was.

Eyeing his ears, you take a breath nd gently scratch behind one. Fugo jolts, purrs becoming nearly thunderous as the fins flare out to give you more room to work. You drag a nail across the thin membrane stretching between the spines, tracing said spines up near the tip as feather light as possible and that seems to break him.

He makes an unintelligible noise, one that's garbled and slurred and he yanks away from you to slink further into the water. Fugo is red from head to toe... Er..? Tail fin? Caudal fin? Whatever, he's blushing brightly, and so are you, and wow all this affection is intense huh?

When you finally get the courage to actually look at him, you find that Fugo looks a little dumbstruck. His eyes are unfocused, staring dazedly at you with a sort of quiet reverence, and he looks really fidgety; rubbing his knuckles, flaring his spines and twitching in his spot. Giorno drifts back into your line of sight, opening his arms and you gawk a little when Fugo happily nuzzles into the somewhat smaller lionfish. Spotting your surprised look, the blond chuckles."Yes, I probably should have mentioned this."

Bruno slithers forth, waving off the young leader. "I've got this, you go bring him down." Giorno nods, turning back to purr and coo at a blissed out Fugo. You can't help the small bubble of worry that blisters up into your throat, choking you with a small amount of guilt.

Like some kind of psychic, Bruno hums, "You're probably wondering what's wrong with him, right?" You nod, skin itching with the need for answers. Bruno reaches out, smoothing a hand across your tensed shoulder as he purrs. "He's fine, just... Hmm? I believe a proper comparison would be to say he's in a sort of "subspace" at the moment." You immediately turn red, unnoticed by Bruno who is turned around to watch their blond leader gently smother Fugo, who is eating the affection up. "Giorno apparently forgot to warn you about that part of our species."

He retreats into himself for a moment, thinking with a hand on your shoulder and the other pressing into a loose fist.

"Alright, it seems like we may have to have a small lesson in cluster bonding." You parrot the last two words back at him, confused. "Yes, cluster bonding." Bruno flicks his body, pulling himself up to rest on the glass. His posture is rather stiff, upright, with his chest subtly puffed out and his hands folded onto his lap. "Touch is a big thing for merfolk, much bigger than it is for humans. In fact, what humans may perceive as harassment, uncomfortably personal contact, or even just a general invasion of one's comfort zone is usually something different for merfolk."

He hums, taking breath before humming. "You see, every touch a mer gives out has meaning. Sometimes it's very straightforward, like if a male wanted to... Inform a female that he was sexually available, he'd initiate some sort of sexual contact." When you stare at him with most deadpan look ever, he demonstrats by resting his weight on one arm, and grinding his hips upwards. Oh... Oh my god.

Satisfied you now know what he means, Bruno resumes, "More subtle things, like shoulder, arm and hand touches are considered friendly, under general contexts and situations." You have a somewhat nagging feeling you know where this is headed. Bruno easily takes note, nodding.

"It seems you understand where I'm going with this." He seems amused by your now permanently flushed face, his lips quirked to the side as his small, triangular pelvic fins flutter. "Head, neck and fin contact is something generally reserved for cluster, or even podmates, although it's not uncommon for merfolk to allow people outside of their pods to do so. It sends us into a highly vulnerable blissed out state, as you can see with Fugo." He tilts his head over his shoulder, guiding your attention to said merman.

It seems as if he's mostly recovered, still leaning against Giorno with Mista wrapped around his shoulder. He looks relaxed, although he is still purring hard enough for the water around him to ripples consistently. "I do know, however, that some humans consider it very similar to having sex. That's why I must ask..." You look back at the eel, freezing when you realize that those guarded blue eyes are mere inches from your own.

"Do you still want to follow through with your request?"

#jojo part 5 #merfolk mating rituals #mmr questions #merman abbacchio #merman fugo #merman mista #merman narancia #merman bruno #merfolk jjba

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no-other-words · 5 years

Text

later is now

synopsis: two years worth of photos on Hinata’s Instagram and not a word from kageyama. you’d think after an entire high school career spent with the most sociable human on earth, he would’ve pick up some communication skills but here he is—sitting alone in the locker room crouched over his phone, brooding over the fact he can’t even press ‘like’ on a harmless picture, let alone comment. #major manga spoilers ahead #post chapter 370 #slight angst? and fluff? #pre-relationship

Don’t be dramatic, dumbass. You’re making it sound like I died.

‘then where have u been? where did u fuck off to kageyama?

---

His thumb hover dangerously close over the heart sign, frozen in mid-air just like how he’s been frozen in time for the past years. There’s a calm before the storm until the nerves eventually get to Kageyama and his hand recoils as if the photo he’s staring at is a violent wake up call.

Hinata’s gotten a bit more tanned from the last time he posted a picture. Darker around the arms and legs, it highlights the toned muscles developed over the years. He’s got an even larger presence than the one Kageyama holds onto in his memories. Still the same smile though—vibrant, bigger than life, and nothing held back.

It makes his chest hurt.

The photo is of Hinata posing on a beach alongside a fellow volleyball player. He’s wearing a sleeveless tank and Kageyama finds himself staring at the biceps bared to the world. His account is private right? It better be private. Thirsty messages should not be welcomed in the comments.

He hears his name being called from outside the locker room. It’s time for practice.

Stolen moments are just that—fleeting minutes playing catch-up with Hinata picture by picture. Then, it’s back to reality and the court in front of him.

In the end, Kageyama decides on doing nothing and shuts off his phone. He pockets it in the jacket, his last name printed gloriously over the V.League team’s red and white jersey.

Two years’ worth of photos on Hinata’s Instagram and nothing from Kageyama.

You’d think after an entire high school career spent with the most sociable human on Earth, Kageyama would’ve pick up some communication skills but here he is—sitting alone in the locker room crouched over his phone, brooding over the fact he can’t even press ‘Like’ on a harmless picture, let alone comment.

Pathetic.

---

Thinking back, he should have said something. They were once partners for god’s sake, and now they might as well be strangers from the gap Kageyama’s unwittingly carved between them.

His last interaction with Hinata from the chat box, when Kageyama follows him on Instagram a few months after he’s landed in Brazil. He’d been immediately DM’d, Hinata calling him out for being late on the social media game.

‘ur now a part of a professional team! u need to make ur presence known or ur fans will be real sad’

Kageyama hadn’t responded.

He hasn’t done anything, in fact. No messages, no likes, no comments, no replies. The only thing that holds to his account is a profile picture of a Mikasa volleyball on the old Karasuno jersey. He’s here to play volleyball on the national stage, his game can speak for him.

By the time he’s realized his mistake, Kageyama finds himself frequently checking Hinata’s Instagram page and revisiting old posts. That—he’s allowed to do, no? And it’s an impressive curation—hundreds of photos narrating his two years stay in Brazil. Two years’ worth of change, growth, learning, and memories that Hinata’s making.

Two years without him.

Kageyama finds it hard to keep up sometimes. Following his life in the form of mere pictures and captions doesn’t really fill the void.

---

The only wisp of connection he has to his old team is through Tsukishima—the salty bastard of all people. When the blonde messages him though, Kageyama is already aware.

For the first time, Hinata has posted a video. It’s short—capturing only a few seconds but those seconds are enough. The pants Hinata wears are tight and moves enticingly with his quads. They bend, expand, and hup—from the sands, Hinata soars above the net, his wings in the form of haloed sun-rays, and passes the volleyball to his spiker.

Hinata has learned to set. And what a beautiful set it is.

Kageyama smirks. Nothing less from a starved crow.

He re-watches several times, unable to let go of the breath he’s been holding. If he does, the magic will go away. Something tightens in his chest. It spreads and grabs hold of his stomach and twists and turns and evolves into a fierce wanting.

Tsukishima’s text repeats in his head.

Looks like he’s aiming for FIVB World Cup. Maybe you’ll see him in the next Olympics?

He watches the video again. Memorizes the form of Hinata’s jump, the curve of his spine, the reach from his arms. His hair floats airily in a poof orange cloud, his lips slightly opened in concentration.

Alluring in every possible way.

This time, he doesn’t hold back. kageyama.t leaves a heart on the post along with a simple comment.

You can do better.

---

‘kageyama? omg zombie-yama has resurfaced from the dead!’

‘both a like AND a comment? wow did i do to deserve this? has hell frozen over?’

The twelve-hour difference between them has never had an impact for Kageyama. They don’t even talk anymore so what’s it to him if he misses a few instant messages from the person he’s been silently following (stalking) online since forever?

Apparently, a great deal.

It’s already 11PM in Brazil, Kageyama impatiently notes. He should know better than to wait until it’s a better time for Hinata. But like a landslide racing towards the end, the compulsive words are typed and sent before he knows it.

Don’t be dramatic, dumbass. You’re making it sound like I died.

‘then where have u been?’

Kageyama almost drops his phone, not expecting the quick turnaround from Hinata. His heart beats annoyingly loud and it’s the only thing he hears in the room.

Why are you still awake? Isn’t it late over there?

‘i cant sleep. u know how i am. a ghost from my past decided to come back to life’

The sad thing is he’s right. Kageyama knows him all too well. He swallows the hard lump in his throat.

‘dont u dare ignore me. where did u fuck off to kageyama?’

He also knows Hinata rarely gets mad. This is one of those rare times. His head starts to buzz.

Nowhere. Volleyball’s been keeping me busy.

‘too busy to talk to a friend?’

His breathing quickens in short and shallow bursts. Questions, fears, and doubts swell into his mind and he needs to look away from the screen for a bit. Calm down—Hinata has all the right to call him out.

Maybe it’s a mistake to like his post.

No. Hinata deserves that and way more.

Maybe that’s why he should’ve reached out earlier. Ease it in. He should’ve responded to that first message.

He should’ve done a lot of things.

‘dont ignore me. ur not a coward.’

Kageyama stares at Hinata’s words. Damn him for always being right, for pulling him back. For saying things as is and pushing him to further ends.

I don’t know what to say.

‘well ur in luck. u can practice whatever u need to say with me soon. can u pick me up from the airport this weekend?’

What

‘im coming home for a visit. plane arrives at 4:30pm jst. terminal 1’

Home. He likes the sound of that.

Why me?

‘y not? my fam’s out of town and u owe it to me.’

Sneaky little turd.

Kageyama bites off a smile.

Fine.

‘come prepared. u and i have a score to settle’

You and I. Him and Hinata. Sounds familiar.

Sounds fitting.

---

When they meet, every memory made at Karasuno comes rushing like a giant wave riding the high winds.

First year nationals when they suffered a defeat with Hinata off-court. Hinata’s struggles in the academics and Kageyama’s equally abominable grades. Their makeshift practices during lunch on the school rooftop and late-night snack runs after training. Second year’s expected yet satisfying loss to Dateko and a hard-won third place in third year. The utter thrill of the orange court, the intensity of the game. The fleeting glances, the accidental touches.

The implicit words. Unspoken feelings.

The unequivocal promise after a splendid receive from Kageyama’s serve.

See you later.

Hinata unabashedly marches up to Kageyama, suitcase in tow, and punches Kageyama hard on the chest.

He expects it just as much.

The shorter man doesn’t pull back, instead spreads his hand wide and presses against Kageyama’ body. In the middle of a large, well air-conditioned airport, the spot where Hinata’s touching him is blazing hot.

“Damn it,” Hinata hisses through his pout, “you’re still bigger than me.”

Kageyama snorts. Figures he’d say something stupid first.

He’s stumped at what to do next. Two full years of going radio-silent on the man (man, not boy anymore) has him doubting again. What’s acceptable, what’s appropriate, what’s allowed?

He starts to open his arms and Hinata jumps into him instantly, strong arms over his shoulder and his face buried in the crevice of Kageyama’s neck.

A fresh whiff of his hair and Kageyama softens. Things are…alright. A void is being filled.

Hinata’s voice is muffled against his neck, absolute yet frail. “I missed you.”

He did too.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

“We have a lot of things to iron out.”

Kageyama gulps. “Okay.”

“Kageyama?” Hinata pulls back, determination flashing in his eyes. “It’s later.”

He still remembers that perfect form Hinata had embodied on the other side of the court, meeting him halfway in both passion for the sport and a knowing smile.

See you later!

Someone probably has already recognized him as a member of a V.League club, but he doesn’t care. Tightening his hold around Hinata, feeling the defined muscles hot under his grasp, Kageyama lays his forehead on Hinata’s shoulder in an act of release.

“Yeah, later is now.”

---

a/n: because the way i cope with the recent chapter is creating headcanons and writing them out

#kagehina #haikyuu!!#kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #hq fanfic #myfics #omff lol im pooped out. finished lttol ch.4 this morning and then immediately started on this 'cause friend wanted this.#thank you friend for the support and encouragement :')

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himbowelsh · 6 years

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Who would the person taking a drawing class and who would be the nude model for the main BoB ships + Bull/Martin and Talbert/Grant? please😊

WINNIX

i’m not going to say nix is naked -- but nix is naked.

he’s not even getting paid for it, he just wants to model because he knows that his parents will have aneurysms if it gets back to them. (not to mention, kitty runs the class, and she and harry have both been pestering lew to do it.)

he’s not very impressed by the whole “letting a bunch of people see him naked” thing...

until he catches sight of the handsome ginger whose blush is a bit too visible on his pokerface.

suddenly, the class gets a lot more fun. lew passes the time winking at the man and pursing his lips, trying to see how hard he can get him to blush. (by the time he’s red as a firetruck, lew has to stop, because he’s worried he could end up hurting him.)

SPEIRTON

speirs does not want to be in a drawing class. (the only reason he’s in said drawing class is because a few questionable “friends” roped him into it.) he can only draw people, which he does in EXQUISITE detail, but nothing else.

and then lip comes in, naked, biceps glistening under the flourescent lights.

it is... not what speirs was expecting.

he’s not freaked out by the sight of a naked man, obviously. he’s more... fascinated. he can barely take his eyes off lip long enough to remember to draw him.

after class, speirs is determined to show lip his drawing. as lip is putting the robe back on, he marches up to him and introduces himself, refusing to be daunted by the fact that he’s seen this guy naked.

BABEROE

it all comes down to self-confidence here. gene would not have the self-confidence to be a nude model ever, while babe... has too much of it.

gene and renee are taking an art class together because they want to “get creative” (as they put it) and “expand their creative minds” (as their art teacher puts it).

(also renee has a massive crush on the teacher, a pretty australian girl named stella, but that’s neither here nor there)

then comes nude modeling day, when this GUY walks in with blazing red hair and the most freckled gene has ever seen on a human body. he’s also built with lean muscle and smooth skin... like michelangelo’s irish fantasy.

gene feels a little faint, but pushes through. he’s a mature adult. he can handle a naked body without getting flustered.

... so he thinks, until the model comes up to him after class. “hey, i noticed you were blushing a lot. sorry, i hope you weren’t too uncomfortable.”

(this would be a lot more sincere were the guy not fighting off a grin... and still naked. gene has to struggle not to look down.”

“no,” he replies. “i’m fine. wasn’t uncomfortable at all.”

the guy finally allows himself to grin, and that’s the moment that gene knows he’s in trouble.

WEBGOTT

look, webster’s really good at drawing trees.

only trees. nothing else. he can’t draw people, he can’t draw landscapes, he can just draw trees, and thats... it. just really nice trees. he thinks taking an art class will help with that a little, but it doesn’t.

(he can draw people who look like trees, though, so that’s a bonus.)

he has no clue it’s nude modeling day until he walks into class ten minutes late to see everyone sitting in a circle, and a completely naked guy in the middle of the room.

his heart almost leaps out of his mouth. all he can do is stand there like a deer in the headlights.

the naked model catches sight of him and grins. “what’s the matter, pretty boy? afraid of seeing a little skin? oh -- is this your first time?”

webster has to leave the room.

LUZTOYE

so luz isn’t even in this class.

he just hears that it’s naked model day, and of course he thinks it’s going to be hilarious, so he sneaks in as his friend’s guest. (he quickly discovers that art classes are super boring, and definitely not his thing.)

then he sees the actual naked model

and the class gets a LOT more interesting.

instead of having fun watching everbody blush over a naked model, he gets to take in joe toye’s fine, fine figure. he doesn’t have a six pack, he’s got a twelve pack. luz wants to cry.

after class, he doesn’t hesitate before marching right up to joe as he’s getting dressed.

“since i’ve already seen you naked, i guess we can jump straight to the fun part, huh?”

joe just walks away.

RANDLETIN

the fact is, there’s money involved, and a lot of it. so of course johnny is going to agree to model for his buddy’s art class, as long as he’s getting paid.

he doesn’t realize it’s a nude modeling class until he shows up and is told to strip. his first instinct is to protest... and his second instinct is to haggle. he winds up getting fifteen more dollars an hour, which is more than enough reason to lose his pants.

he’s not very self-conscious while he’s up there. he’s kind of bored, at first... until he catches sight of the biggest guy in the classroom, blushing from his ears all the way to his very blond hair.

johnny keeps eye contact with this guy the entire time. it’s the most entertaining part of his day, especially when the guy stands up and looks like he’s about to faint.

he thinks he might spend his most recent paycheck on dinner for two.

TALBERT/GRANT (who i could probably thing up a ship name for but hahaha im lazy) ((grab??? tarant?? gralbert???))

this is not a question

floyd talbert has enough shame to fill half a bottle cap. of COURSE he’s going to agree to naked modeling. why not

and grant... is not prepared.

the thing is, he knows tab. they have mutual friends and have hung out a few times, which makes seeing his almost-not-quite-buddy naked... a real experience. he’s determined to remain cool, but he can’t help the way his heart is pounding in his chest. it’s so loud he swears tab can hear it.

the worst part -- tab keeps SMIRKING at him.

by the time they’re finally finished, tab doesn’t wait for grant to put his easel away -- or to put clothes on. he marches right up to him.

“i’ve never been an artist, but i might have to come to this class more often.”

“please,” grant says. he feels like he’s dying. “please do.”

#headcanons #Anonymous

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