Bro.... You’re Excluding Ace And Aro People From LGBTQ+ Spaces?? In 2020?? Ngl.... That’s Kinda Cringe,

Kinktober 2023 - Day 22

Today we're going to get a little... strapped.

Character: Yamato, Ace D. Portgas Reader: cis!fem Reader Warnings: Vaginal fingering, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome, hitachi wand, strap-on, he/him Yamato as is proper, swearing, 18+

Summary: Yamato has a new, 11 inch long rainbow strap and wants to test it out. You're unsure about it fitting, but Ace is up for the challenge. -:- 3,197 words

Toy Box

“I can’t take that!” You exclaim, pointing at the 11”, threateningly thick, pale rainbow colored strap that Yamato’s holding in his hand. You look down at your own crotch as if to prove some sort of point. “Yams, I’m entirely too small, you’ll bottom out before you get it all in.”

Yamato is the tallest of the three of you, and you feel bad as his shoulders droop a little. You didn't want to disappoint him, but you knew your physical limits, and that was beyond the mark for you.

Ace tilts his head, looking at you. “Is that bad?”

“I mean, not for everyone, but for me it hurts.” You admit with a whimper. “Sorry Yams.”

“Wait, does it hurt when I -?” Ace starts and you shake your head, face heating up.

“No you…” You put your hands over your face, out of the three of you that made up this little love nest, you were the only one with an excess of embarrassment. “You fit perfect.” You mumble.

Ace ruffles your hair and you can imagine the big grin on his face. “Well, I could take it.” He says assuringly. “A little prep and enough lube and I bet it’ll feel amazing.”

“Do we want to get started now?” Yamato questions, his face brightening up. “It vibrates.” He adds, a mischievous and delighted smile as he turns it on and off to prove his point.

You almost wanted to wear it to peg either one of them, but you stay quiet as Ace is all for trying it now.

“I suppose I’ll sit back and enjoy the show then.” You say as brightly as you can manage.

“Huh?” Both ask at the same time, confusion on their face.

“You can sit back and watch if you want,” Ace starts.

“But you don’t have to.” Yamato finishes.

Now it’s your turn to tilt your head. “But how?”

The two of them smile. The smiles aren’t devious, but the energy coming from both of them is.

“There’s a couple different ways that are easy enough.” Ace promises you. “How about I lay down and you can get on top of me?”

“Well, but then-.”

“If you hook my legs with your arms you’ll have leverage,” Ace interrupts.

“And I’ll have access!” Yamato declares triumphantly.

“Access to?” It’s not making sense in your head and they both point to Ace.

Ace laughs when you look more confused, and helps you pull your shirt off as the three of you begin to strip. Which is more, the two of them stripping you down while stripping one another. Normally you would help, but you’re confused, and a moment ago you were certain you were going to be sitting this one out, so it feels a little whiplashy.

“This is going to make more sense if we just do it.” He says, tossing your shirt away. Tilting your face up toward his with his finger he leans down and kisses you.

Once you return his kiss his hands start to wander, pulling the straps of your bra down as you feel Yamato behind you, undoing the clasps. The two of them always took care of you, ever since a drunken party one college night had led Yams to declaring he could take both of you. Your relationship with Ace turned into a poly relationship pretty fast after that.

Yams and Ace were all the sunshine and energy of the group, and you were usually the more reserved and level-headed one. For all their shenanigans though, you worked well together. Outside of the bedroom you were often the one in charge, organizing who did what chores and keeping the house stocked and the meals planned.

In the bedroom, however, they took care of you.

Ace’s hot fingers were cupping and teasing your breasts as his kisses moved away from your mouth to your neck. You held onto him, stepping out of your jeans as Yamato helped you out of them. With the last of your clothes gone, save your socks, Yamato spread your legs a little and started teasing your clit with his fingers.

Your fingers flexed against Ace’s skin, and you sucked in a breath of surprise before moaning. You could feel the two of them exchanging kisses as they continued to play with you. Yams’ thumb pressed along your slit, causing you to spread your legs a little further, holding onto Ace’s shoulders as Yamato’s thumb pushes inside of you.

Your hips roll and you’re almost riding his hand.

“Puh-please, please, you two… I,” you gasp as Ace twists your nipples a little. Not enough to hurt, but enough to run a strong sensation through your chest. He leans back, and so do you, resting against Yamato a little as the latter holds onto you and teases you while Ace watches for a moment.

You don’t bother continuing to beg, feeling the blood rush through you as Ace’s eyes move over your body. He strips himself down, not taking his attention away from you and Yamato as your white-haired lover begins to lick and tease your skin while he continues to play with your pussy.

“Look at him being all cocky like that.” Yamato hums into your ear. “Giving you that grin like I’m not going to twist his sweet face in a few minutes.”

Ace’s devious smile breaks into a larger full grin. “That strap ain’t that big.” He asserts, going over and sitting on the edge of the bed, motioning for the two of you to join him.

Yamato releases you, giving you a playful smack on your ass to get you moving while he takes his own time to strip and get things ready. Ace lifts you up into his lap, hugging your chest to his and kissing along your collarbone as his hands steady you.

“Sure you’re up for this?” He questions, looking up at you from the mess of dark hair.

“I’m not the one getting sandwiched.” You say, giving him a kiss on the forehead. “Besides,” you start, looking away even though you’re sure Ace can see the embarrassment on your face. “You two have me all worked up now.”

“Ah, so it’s our fault.” Ace hums, grabbing you and flopping backward before you can reply. You squeak a bit, shifting a little as he helps you sit up more.

Ace steadies you by your breasts, teasing you even as he supports you, and Yamato helps hook Ace’s legs against your arms. Holding Ace’s legs with your arms meant you couldn’t smack away his hands from your breasts, but the leverage let you tease his hardening cock with your wet slit.

Ace’s legs twitch against your arms and you see the heat rise in his face, his fingers trembling a little as he continues to try and tease you. Yamato rests his head on your shoulder, kissing you softly as you both watch Ace.

“He’s cute when he’s trying not to moan, isn’t he?” Yamato prompts. You nod, grinding into Ace’s cock a little more roughly as Yamato pushes two fingers into the freckled man’s ass.

Ace pulls his hands off your chest, grunting a little bit before he finally lets a soft moan fall from his lips.

“What a good boy,” Yamato purrs, and you grin down at Ace. He huffs a little, lifting your hips and lining himself up with you before lowering you down onto his cock.

“Don’t you get sassy with him,” he asserts, pushing you down onto him. You don’t stifle the satisfied sigh as he fills you up. Thick and curved a little, Ace didn’t hit too deep, but he did seem to fit you exactly as you needed, teasing the most sensitive places in your pussy with that curve. He kept talking about getting a piercing or two, and while you’d never ask him to do so, you hoped he would on his own one day.

Your eyes roll up into your head a little as his thumb teases your clit while you shift your hips.

“See, you should be more honest, like her.” Yamato teases, kissing your back before he kneels between Ace’s legs. “Relax, hot stuff.”

“I’m re-laaaaaxed!” Ace’s voice goes up a little and nearly breaks. You did your best to consciously squeeze against him as he started to speak, and it paid off. His ears are bright red and he’s looking at you in disbelief for a moment before he grins. “Someone’s trying to be a brat tonight.”

He turns his head to the side. “Hey Yams, can you grab that other thing you bought?”

“The wand? Sure.”

“The what?” You question, a little concern creeping into your voice.

“Don’t worry, just hold my legs.” Ace replies before Yamato can answer you.

A moment later Yamato is plugging something into the wall and handing it off to Ace. It’s a long rod with a bulbous end.

“Is that a -.”

“Vibrator? Yup.” Ace answers, smacking his lips at the end of the last word.

“It plugs into the wall?!” You’re feeling nervous suddenly. The three of you have used quite a few toys and accessories as time had gone on, but this was new.

Ace clicks it on, and it vibrates almost violently. The devious look on his face is practically making you shiver more than the possibilities of that vibrator. Your arms are still holding his legs, and your legs are straddling him. Wherever he decides to go with that thing, you can’t stop him.

Curiosity is also driving you forward.

“Haa, I felt you twitch that time,” he points out, pressing the bulb end against your clit while it’s off. The squishy material doesn’t give too much, and you can’t help rocking your hips against it. “Hey Yams, before you work that behemoth into me, hold onto (Y/N) for a minute.”

“Let me get this in first.” Yamato replies, pushing the head of the strap on into Ace’s lubed ass. Ace lets out a soft sigh, doing his best to relax and help Yamato work the toy in.

“Fuck.” Ace huffs.

“Too much?”

“N-nah,” he husks. “She’s twitchin’ against my cock, and the strap’s stretchin’ me, it’s just a lot.”

“St-stop teasing me with that th-thing,” you stammer. The warmth of Yamato behind you was more of a turn on because you knew he was slowly burying himself into Ace. Something about the whole situation was unbearably hot.

“Almost there,” Yams says, licking along your shoulder and making your whole body tremble.

You and Ace moan at the same time, and you can easily picture the pleased smile on Yamato’s face. He loved twisting you both around his finger and being the main lead/dom whenever you three got into things. Ace might top him from time to time, but he was wily as he was tall, and since he was the tallest of the three of you he was almost always in charge.

“There.” Yamato says, letting out a heavy breath before locking his arms around yours and your body, pressing your back against his chest. Not only were you held back by Ace’s legs, but now you were fully pinned in place.

Anticipation already has you in knots as Ace pushes the toy against your clit again. He rubs a little, until you finally look at him. When your eyes meet those storm steel ones of his he clicks the wand straight into high gear.

Your body clenches, tightening against Ace’s cock inside you, and shivering in Yamato’s hold. You suck in a breath in surprise, and it takes you a second to let it out. Nervous, broken moans fall from your lips as your body continues to squirm. If you weren’t held in place so well, you’re fairly certain you would’ve twitched right off of Ace’s waist.

“Damn, I can feel it.” Ace huffs, toes curling a little.

“Oh.” Yamato shifts behind you, holding you steady as he reaches down and clicks something. Ace’s body tenses and he pushes the wand into you a little harder for a moment. “Now you can really feel it.” Yamato assures him, having turned the vibrating function on for the strap buried in Ace.

“Haa, shit, I’m not going to last long like this.” Ace pants, rolling the toy around and teasing you with it. He’s flush from his face down to his elbows, his freckles disappearing into the blush that’s rising to the surface.

Yamato starts to help you move a little, giving you enough room to ride Ace’s cock while he keeps the wand on your clit.

“Yams, you ba-bastard.” Ace growls.

“It’ll be easier to rail you if you cum once.” Yamato points out happily, before turning and whispering into your ear. “Don’t hold back now, cum hard and watch his pretty face twist when he fills you up. Focus now.”

“Cum, I’m gonna cum,” you huff. Your whole body feels hot. You almost wish you were stuffed by both of them, with the vibrator on top of it. You’d probably lose your mind, but it would be worth it. As it was, the only thing really keeping you steady, was what Yamato had said.

Yamato nuzzles into the crook of your neck, licking and nibbling your tender flesh as his hands shift and tease your tits. You see Ace’s face twitch, his brows knitting as his mouth goes slack. His breath is coming out heavy and quick, and you know he’s as close as you are – probably losing his mind watching Yamato play with you.

“-Much! Too much!” You cry, your words at odds with your actions as you ride Ace without Yamato’s help. Even as the orgasm slams into you, you keep trying to move. Ace’s free hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin. You aren’t sure if he’s trying to stop you, or urge you on, and you’re rewarded with quite the view as he nearly sobs.

You can’t blame him, the intensity of your own climax still had you shivering and trembling, especially with the wand still going. You’re pretty sure your orgasm had slammed him into his faster than he expected. It was like having the floor yanked out from under you unexpectedly – and the surprise and rush looked beautiful on his face.

You feel him cum inside you, shifting the wand to a lower setting as the two of you work your way through the last few pleasurable twitches. He shuts the wand off, setting it off to the side, as he fights to catch his breath.

“Fuck me.” He huffs.

“Okay!” Yamato responds, holding onto your shoulders, as you’re holding onto Ace’s legs, and you hear Ace make a weird noise as you feel Yamato start to thrust into him.

“Yuh-Yaaam-ma-ma-ma-moto!” Ace stammers, his legs squirming in your grip. You hold on tight. Despite your own exhaustion from cumming so hard, you feel revived watching Ace squirm underneath you.

Ace grabs the sheets, his hips bucking against Yamato’s thrust, shoving himself deep into you. You can feel him twist and shift inside you, even before he bucked. You’re trying not to move too much so that he can recover a little on his own, but his legs twitch and it shifts you around, and when you shift he sucks in a breath, letting out a nervous shivering laugh.

“See? I told you it would be worth it.” Yamato huffs, picking up his pace.

You lean back against him, starting to shift your hips and ride Ace again. “You weren’t wrong.” You agree and you hear Ace whimper.

“You’re both, haa, haa-awful.” Ace gasps, moaning as you and Yamato start to synchronize a little. “Shiiiiiiit.” He hisses.

You grin, leaning over and leaving kisses against his calf. “I didn’t realize how adorable you were, hot stuff.” You tease, using Yamato’s nickname for him.

Ace pouts, his face and ears red, giving you a sour look for a second before he’s gripping the bed sheet again. “I’m gonna get you ba-back.” He growls the words, but there’s a delicious whine that escapes him as Yamato shifts.

“Ah, there it is.” He says, pushing Ace’s legs forward a little, tilting you forward slightly in the process. “Now to make you both cum again.” Yamato promises and you feel a chill down your spine at the tone in his voice.

Normally Yamato was happy and cheerful, much like Ace. But while Ace could shift from laughter to husky and demanding, Yamato usually stayed very lighthearted all through the night. It was rare that his demeanor shifted away from mischievous at the most.

Yamato began thrusting into Ace’s ass with enough force to bounce you on Ace’s cock. Being tilted forward a little and held in place mostly by your own hold on Ace’s legs, you didn’t have the position to keep yourself still. Every slap of Yamato’s hips into Ace’s thighs pushed you forward, and you’d shift back down again.

The angle also made your clit rub into Ace’s lower abs, and so the pleasure was a jolt on two fronts.

“Yam-Yams!” You gasp, holding onto Ace’s legs a little tighter doesn’t help. His moving is what’s making you move in the first place.

“Yes?” Yamato hums. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head. “No, no, but it’s too – too much we won’t be able to- hnnngh, heck.” You tense, groaning before you stammer the little half swear. “You’re gonna wear us ow – out.”

“Probably.” Yamato replies, speeding up a little. “But I wanted to wreck Ace with this new strap, so I’m getting what I want.”

“M-Me?!” Ace exclaims. “You, haaa-nnngh-fuck – you said it was for, for,” Ace throws his head back and his back arches. You can feel his body tense as Yamato continues.

“Yup, and you took it as a challenge.” Yamato says in that tone that sends another shiver through you.

His voice sent a shiver through Ace too because you heard him grunt before his entire body tenses. A trembling swear escapes him before his face breaks again and he’s panting. You can feel him twitch inside you, and the hot rush of cum is enough to push you over the edge. You hadn’t even realized how close you were until Ace’s orgasm pushed into you.

You’re both crying out Yamato’s name as he slams deep into Ace a couple times, before slowly pulling out.

“That’s my good lil’ pups.” Yamato purrs, kissing your shoulders before helping to untangle you from Ace’s legs.

“By the seas, you thrusted at the end like you could feel it through the strap!” Ace huffs, laying sprawled out on the bed as he fights to catch his breath.

Yamato laughs. “Sometimes it feels like I can,” he admits. “I could feel this one more cause the vibrations hit me too.”

“I really like your toy box,” you sigh contentedly, as Yamato helps you lay down beside Ace.

“It’s getting full, I’m going to have to buy a bigger box.” Yamato says and you and Ace laugh at the accidental reference.

After getting the strap cleaned off, Yamato comes back and snuggles with the two of you, chatting idly about the session until you all have the energy to go get cleaned up properly.

so the academy is reviewing whether or not to remove Will Smith’s award and here are some interesting tweets about that :)

Aftercase

-

The whole investigation your smart boyfriend kept being a genius and cool af and it’s finally over so you can kiss him SO DAMN HARD

HELL TO THE YES I would

WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK???????????

he's like me fr

König Headcannons – Part II:

If I wasn’t clear in my last set of sfw headcannons, I interpret König as having ADHD and Social Anxiety Disorder. I’m going to get into some diagnostic criteria and give some of my headcannons for how they appear for König specifically, and some blurbs throughout because I never learned how to stop talking. 

Social Anxiety Disorder (Social Phobia):

Anxiety surrounding social situations in which there is the potential for scrutinization. I think König’s anxiety would be particularly focused around interactions (conversations, meeting new people, etc) and being observed. 

- He isn’t comfortable with crowds, the dislike of being surrounded by people is intensified by the tinge of constant situational worry that comes with being a soldier. 

         -- If you take busy public transport, where there’s people packed into a bus or a subway car, he’ll sit bouncing his leg and playing with your hands. If you’re standing, he’ll be right behind you with one arm around your waist keeping you close against his chest; if it’s a particularly bad day he’ll hunch himself over to bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the smell of you and trying to ignore everyone else. 

- Even in more regular social situations he’s got this habit of coming up behind you and resting his chin or cheek on your head. You’re used to it, often grabbing his hand and putting it on your waist, but the reactions from whoever you’re talking with range from befuddlement to discomfort, to outright terror at this massive dude just lingering directly behind you. 

- He does not like having his picture taken, especially when he isn’t aware that the picture taking is happening. He will get upset if anyone refuses to delete photos they took without his knowledge and permission. 

         -- He does, however, usually let you take polaroid with him – they develop soft enough that his worries about the photo being horrible are eased, plus he finds he’s fond of the way you’ve got them tucked around the house. Once you took a polaroid of him that he clearly didn’t like, he wasn’t really saying anything about it but you could tell, and you fucking lit it on fire – you went and got a zippo and burnt the fucking thing. He was oddly touched by your wiliness to commit a small act of arson purely for his comfort. 

- I also think he’d not particularly like eating in front of others – as a result of his anxiety he thinks people watch and judge him more than they do, and there’s too many opportunities for something to go wrong, so the threat of that embarrassment causes him to take most of his meals alone. 

         -- The knock at his door is soft and measured, three knocks just loud enough to catch his attention but not startle him. He knows, really, before even opening the door, that it’s you. He wants to see you, he really does, but the thought of it kicks his heart rate up and he feels the urge to fidget with his hands or the edge of his shirt as he takes the few steps needed to reach the door. You’re standing there, holding two full meal trays, flashing a bright smile up at him as you explain that you noticed he’d left the mess hall without eating. You ask to come in and he wordlessly steps to the side, hesitating just slightly as he contemplates if he should ask you to leave – he reasons with himself that he’s confident if he did ask you to go, you would, and that’s reassurance enough to have you stay – before shutting the door behind you and praying he won’t do anything humiliating. You chatter about how you weren’t entirely sure what to grab him, setting his tray on his desk, and sitting cross-legged on the floor with yours balanced across your knees. It twists something unfamiliar in his guts when he looks at his tray and realizes it’s a fairly accurate representation of what he would have gotten himself. He thanks you, the murmur of his voice barely audible. Then, the battered slice of cake catches his eye. The sweets they serve on base aren’t ever particularly good, but it’s chocolate and, fuck, he loves chocolate. Usually these slices, provided to the base kitchens already in a small plastic container, are hard to get and it’s even rarer for someone to make it out of the mess hall without being forced to give it up on some grounds of hoarding. The way there’s frosting smeared on the inside of the container suggests you underwent that trial. You must notice him looking at it for longer than anything else and you immediately grin, devious and triumphant, and regale him with the tale of how you managed to sneak the cake out, all because you offhandedly remembered he’d mentioned once about liking chocolate. You even apologize for the dubious quality of it, and he thinks he could cry. The story gives him time to settle across from you with his own tray largely free of intensive notice. By the time you’ve shifted to discussing a different topic with him – giving his responses a genuine attentive regard that makes it difficult for his anxiety to think you’re secretly judging him – he swears if you ripped out his heart right at that moment, you’d find your name written all over it. It just… becomes a Thing™ to meet up like this for meals, in his room or yours. You always seem to know when to talk, when to turn your head away from him, when to let him think you don’t notice his fretting, and when to either coax him into conversation or sit in easy silence. He panics less about it. He finds himself becoming more and more comfortable with you – fond of the peculiar way you habitually gesture with your fork, how you’re always willing to split things in half to share, how you inexplicably manage to scrounge up hot drinks during the cold months – and he's surprisingly glad to have your company. 

- An individual with social anxiety can be fearful of acting in a way that shows anxiety symptoms that will be seen negatively. 

         -- I think König would be worried most about being the reason people reject his company or take offense to his presence. He, at his core, wants people to like him, no matter how much he buries it. He has a hard time knowing whether or not you’re joking if you ever pretend to be disapproving or mad – his fear of driving you away, of you viewing him negatively, totally wipes away his ability to detect when you’re being sarcastic or playful. I think once you two are close he’d look to you in public settings for indications on when other people are kidding around or not – he trusts your evaluation of tone and social context far more than his own. 

         -- I also headcannon that one of the rare times he isn’t worried like this is when he’s really, really tired. When he’s exhausted, he’ll flop next to you, lean his weight on you, and laugh when you struggle to hold him up. This is when he’ll be the most blatantly transparent. You often feel like you should excuse yourself as soon as possible when this happens, but sometimes it’s on missions when he’s falling asleep while you keep watch and you can’t go anywhere; or at base when he’ll grab your wrist and ask you to stay, and how could you say no to him? All you can do is try to mitigate whatever comes out of his mouth, so he doesn’t reveal too much when he’s barely lucid. When he’s out of his mind tired is when he’ll look at you, starry-eyed and with no attempt to school his expressions into something less embarrassing, and whisper how beautiful and kind and perfect you are. He rarely ever remembers doing it – in his memories the comfort of your presence slots in seamlessly with the relief of collapsing on his bed for the first time in two days. 

                   ---- I think the same thing would happen if he’s ever on hella painkillers. He’s awake but definitely not all the way in his own brain so he’s just babbling about how wonderful you are. He’s just… narrating his thoughts. You’re the medic with him throughout the helicopter evac when he’s covered in more injuries than God should allow? You’re getting more of an honest confession of his feelings than the situation calls for. You’re the doctor moderating his recovery from a nasty concussion? Holy shit you’re going to hear about how you personally make the stars shine. Your whole medical team will know how he feels about you before he ever knowingly confesses. 

- Avoidance of anxiety inducing situations.

         -- I love him, but König has a frustrating habit of avoiding or retreating from you when his anxiety spikes. He needs a lot of reassurance that you don’t think of him the way his anxiety tells him you do. 

- I also think, as a comorbid symptom, he suffers from a bit of body dysmorphic disorder regarding his height/size and his accumulated scars – he perceives these things, respectively, as defects and flaws due to the way they’ve only ever drawn attention to him in situations where he’d rather everyone not even notice his existence. 

         -- His heart is going to explode. It’s going to explode and shred through his lungs. Is that medically possible? He feels like it is. It has to be. Because this is the first time you’ve seen him in a short sleeve shirt and you’ve got your hands on his arms and you’re currently looking at the jagged silvery scar that curls across his bicep and- and fuck, he needs to remember to breathe. He offers the stories behind each scar you ask about nearly entirely on autopilot. Can you feel his pulse? He’s scared of what you think, even as you hum and trace your fingertips carefully over each flaw on his skin. He’s marred, he knows it, and he makes a desperate attempt at casualness with some quiet self-deprecating joke about how the scars are ugly, but they couldn’t really make the rest of him worse than it already was. He misses the mark by a fucking mile, apparently, because your hands go tight around as much of his forearm as you can manage to wrap your fingers around and you're staring directly into his eyes with the intensity of the goddamned sun. He wishes he could throw himself into the sun right about now. But he’s listening, mostly, when you tell him that he’s handsome and well-built and nothing even has the possibility of changing that, not to you. That you like his scars, the proof that he’s endured, and you wouldn’t change a single thing about him. He’s listening, mostly, he swears, but he’s also super fucking concerned about how his heart has definitely just exploded and every other organ in its vicinity is splattered across the inside his ribcage. He can’t function like this, for god’s sake, can’t do much more than offer a jerky nod and let you resume your exploration of his arms, littered with grumbling comments about how you can’t believe he doesn’t think he’s good-looking, has he looked in a mirror recently, is he fucking blind.

                   ---- Bonus points if this somehow takes place before you’ve ever seen him without the sniper’s hood on; so he counters that you can’t possibly know if he isn’t hideous and you cut him off telling him he’s beautiful, and he’s like you’ve never even seen my face, and you tell him you know it’s pretty because it’s him and because it’s him it’s pretty, it has to be, regardless of anything, because he’s inherently pretty, and he just… has to blush about it for several business days.

ADHD

We all know about how our boy couldn’t be a sniper because he was 1.) too fucking big and, more to my point, 2.) couldn’t stay still. König has ADHD, argue with the wall. 

- The inattentive criteria I think he specifically meets are difficulty organizing tasks, avoiding activities that require sustained mental focus, often losing things necessary for tasks, easily distracted by extraneous stimuli and that his mind seems to be elsewhere even in the absence of any obvious distraction, and he tends to be forgetful regarding daily activities. 

         -- I think for work stuff he’s got a whole mess of systems to help keep himself on task and completing everything he’s supposed to be doing – sticky notes in improbable places, a seemingly nonsensical ways of going about starting things, using things like the amount of time it takes someone else in the barracks common room to reload their clips as a timer for how long he has to do something of his own, etc etc. He'll drag his desk three feet to the left just so he'll notice it in the morning and remember something. I think he very often writes things on his actual self with permanent marker, usually on his hand or forearm, if he’s really got to remember to do something. He might even have a more regular system for that, like a dot on his index finger means he has one important task to remember. 

         -- He fucking hates paperwork. It’s boring as hell and his brain never wants to do it. Very much “but I know who’s saying I have to get this done; it’s me, and I know I’m full of shit” vibes. Deadlines aren’t real until they’re tomorrow. He bribes himself with sweets or something he actually enjoys for every few pages he gets through – if you see him buying a pack of multitudinous candy from the vending machine, he’s likely got a stack of reports to do. 

         -- It seems like he’s got a staring problem, and most people are super intimidated by it, but he’s usually just spaced the fuck out. You’ve got this odd habit of crossing your eyes at him whenever you catch his gaze and he sort of refocuses; he doesn’t quite know why you do it, maybe just to communicate to him that you notice, but he finds it endearing. 

- Hyperactivity and impulsivity – fidgeting, uncomfortable with being still for extended periods of time, excessive talking, an inability to wait for his “turn” in conversations or blurts out answers before the question is fully asked, difficulty remaining seated, and general restlessness. 

         -- Fidgeting. Don’t… don’t ask me to explain this, and it might not be everyone’s cup of tea… but… I think maybe, maybe, he’s got a lip ring or tongue piercing that he fiddles with. It’s a secret from his superiors, obviously, because that’s definitely not military protocol compliant, but I think with how often he’s got his hood on it wouldn’t be awfully hard to hide. I’m fixated on imagining him with one silver lip ring or a tongue stud, someone please explain to me why. Anyhow, I’ve mentioned before that he will fidget with your hands, but I also think he’s prone to messing with whatever’s near – whether that be a pen or a weapon or some part of his gear or clothes; he has a habit, of dubious safeness, of spinning a butterfly knife around and has more than a few small scars from where he’s accidentally nicked himself. 

         -- He’s prone to squirming if he has to sit somewhere for a while, especially if there’s not much for him to pay attention to. He ends up sitting super crooked most of the time. 

         -- I think he uses running or otherwise working out to burn off some of his energy, especially when he’s particularly restless and when he’s on base. He hates feeling stuck in the small room he’s assigned to sleep in, and there’s something satisfying and grounding about the ache in his muscles and the way he has to concentrate on his breathing. 

         -- When he’s comfortable with you, which absolutely took an ungodly long time, he will go on tangents and simply not shut up until he starts worrying that he’s annoying you. If you ask him about whatever his recent fixation is, he’ll be over the moon about it. Good luck getting anyone else to believe he can talk that much though, the most they’ve heard him talk is over comms in the field and that’s nothing compared to what you’re privy to. He always apologizes when he interrupts you, no matter how often you tell him you understand and that it’s alright. 

Other prattling unrelated to me thinking way too much about psychology: 

- Loves that you make the effort to learn how to pronounce his name correctly. When he’d first told you his name you said it back to him, asking if you had it right. He usually would just tell people they had it fine to avoid the awkward back and forth of trying to get them to say it right, but something about the way you looked at him made him actually give you the slight correction you needed. Then – and this is one of his endless fond memories of you – you sort of looked off into the middle distance, staring unfocused at his chest, and said his name softly over and over again with entirely correct pronunciation before giving a short nod to yourself, looked back up at him and continuing the introduction. 

         -- He’s watched you correct other people on their pronunciations, casually but like it was absolutely necessary that everyone else say it properly, and it never fails to warm his heart. 

- Very rarely gets drunk but when he does, he’s the type of drunk to call you and tell you how amazing you are. Shit, he’ll tell anyone about you. Much like how he’s quietly honest when tired, but his drunk honest is louder and more social. Tells his teammates or friends how beautiful and clever you are, tells the bartended how much he loves you, tells the people next to him how smart and lovely you are, tells the closest table how you make him so happy. Someone tries to flirt with him, they tell him it doesn’t matter that he has a partner, and said person is now trapped in a lecture about exactly how much you matter to him, complete with photos. 

         -- If you end up coming to get him, nearly the entire place will say hello to you because he hasn’t shut up about you for the past hour. He lights up when he sees you, holding your arms and swaying slightly as he stares down at you with the biggest smile on his face, mumbling about “See? Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I tell you how wonderful they are? See? Look. Look at you, so perfect. I love you; you know that? So much.” 

- Loves when you steal his clothes. Cannot get enough of how you look wearing his shirts. 

- I will accept criticism and differing opinions on nearly anything, but I am adamant that König has the sluttiest little waist. I think he was lanky before he started gaining serious muscle in the military, and now he’s a little more bulky but still has that litheness about him so his proportions just give him a slutty little waist. I don’t make the rules, he’s just built like that. 

- I think, to an extent, he knows how to sew. Nothing fancy, and his stitches aren’t even or perfect by any means, but he knows how to mend worn patches and tears well enough. Hates threading needles. But if he notices you’ve got a tear in your coat or something of the sort, you’ll just find it fixed the next day. Left exactly where it was but mended. Like a house brownie. The only way you’ll figure out it’s him is if you catch him doing it. 

- I know this lovely couple, both from a country outside where they currently live, and every time the husband travels back to their home country he’ll pack all his clothes and whatnot in a suitcase and then pack that suitcase within another suitcase. He does this so he can fill the extra suitcase with all the food and things his wife wants from their home country and take her back essentially a giant package of all the stuff she misses and can’t get in the country they live in. Long story short, if you’re not yet going home with him, König absolutely would bring you anything you wanted from Austria, even if he has to bring a whole extra bag. 

- I don’t think he’d carry any sort of photograph of you with him during work or on missions. If there’s a chance of anyone getting their hands on the photo, of learning that you’re important to him, of hurting you or using you to gain leverage over him, he will not have anything on his person to even indicates that you exist. I think he’d love the idea of it, the romantic sentiment of having a polaroid of you tucked in a pocket over his heart, but he just isn’t willing to take that chance. On leave though, at home, he treasures every little sign that you’re around and involved in his life – from photos to the notes left on the kitchen counter, the way you kick off your shoes by the door, the hickeys and scratches that make it look like he got mauled by a fucking tiger, how you always text and ask if he wants anything while you’re out, and even just the fact that he knows at the end of the day he gets to crawl into bed and fall asleep with you next to him. 

- Piggyback rides. You can jump up on this man whenever and he will go on about whatever he was doing as if nothing’s happening. 

- If he’s drinking anything hot – it might be in a coffee cup, but don’t be fooled – it’s hot chocolate. He makes the real kind at home, with real chocolate and cream on the stove. 

Happy Trans Day of Visibility 2023! I love being trans – the part that makes it difficult is the transphobes.

Tell me in the replies/tags/reblogs what trans joy looks like for you. :D

Transphobes do not touch this post.

Image ID: 10-image cartoon comic featuring Joey, a boy with short hair. Image 1: Joey smiles and gesticulates to the title of the comic which reads: “Accessing gender-affirming care as a minor has allowed me to experience trans joy as a transgender adult!”. The words “trans joy” are in large block letters the color of the trans flag. Image 2: A younger Joey wearing a sweater and boxers receives his first T shot from a nurse. The text reads: “I started testosterone 5 days before my 17th birthday after spending the year jumping through a bajillion hurdles. Today, my home state is trying to criminalize my care and specifically shut down the trans specialty clinic that cared for me. Throughout all of this false ‘debate’ about best-practice medicine, I have seen no politicians, reporters, or cis allies talk about trans joy.” Image 3: A younger Joey in a hoodie stands at the stove cooking. He is happy, and there are music notes around his head. The text reads: “When I realized that I was trans years earlier, the world became lighter. I suddenly had answers for why I felt the way I did, and I knew that I wasn’t alone. I found myself humming and singing again”. Image 4: Joey is posed stretched across the frame. He’s wearing suspenders and plaid pants and throwing up a peace sign. The text reads: “I discovered my fashion sense for the first time. I had never been happy in any clothing, but realizing that I was a boy let me explore and find the clothes that made me feel great”. Image 5: Joey’s hand holds up a phone, and on the screen are thumbnails of videos of his face. The text reads: “Most trans people can tell you the day they started hormones (or another transition milestone). It’s like having a second birthday! I’ve got a digital diary recording my monthly changes from the first 2 years.” Image 6: Joey sits on the ground next to a friend, and they are both drawing in notebooks and smiling. Joey’s friend has glasses, an undercut, earrings, and facial hair. The text reads: “I have the most wonderful trans friends who enrich my life every day. I am so lucky to be part of such a loving community”. Image 7: Joey holds hands with his boyfriend, who is a taller boy with long hair in a ponytail and facial hair. The text reads: “Realizing that I was a boy made me realize that I was gay. Up until then, I just thought that I couldn’t experience attraction at all (which is also perfectly normal, by the way!). A wonderful boy and I fell in love 5 years ago, and we get to watch each other grow. Image 8: Joey is shirtless and holding a toothbrush while his boyfriend hugs him from behind. They are both smiling. The text reads: “He often reminds me of how good I look, and boy do I know it! I love my trans body. It’s perfectly me!” Image 9: Joey is shirtless and showing his chest and top surgery scars. The text reads: “Like most places, my clinic does not refer minors for surgery. But when I turned 18, I got top surgery to remove my (bountiful) breast tissue. It’s one of the best things to ever happen to me. I adore my chest. I’ve been freed.” Beside a small doodle of a cat, the text reads: “My cat sleeps on my flat chest every night”. Image 10: Joey has his arms behind his back and is addressing the reader. The text reads: “In the midst of purposeful misinformation and frankly genocidal language and laws, I’d like us to remember the joy of getting to be ourselves. Gender-affirming care not only saves but enriches lives for people of all ages. The joy of being oneself is what the Right wants to eliminate. It is imperative that we preserve and encourage the continuation of trans joy by allowing all trans people to safely thrive.” The comic is dated March 31, 2023. End ID.