#allopreening as a love language <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[avenin7]

Hii, if you're still taking revalink requests. Could we possibly get a lil revali preening link while he's not paying attention? I love that gay bird

I totally am! Thank you for the request!

I only had energy for a sketch right now but this was really fun!

Link is making dinner while his gumpy (not) boyfriend does very normal (not) boyfriend things

[fairyreaper22345]

Bokuto Being A Happy Owl, 5 Times in a Row

❤ ao3 link in reblogs ❤

ship: bokuto koutarou/akaashi keiji

words: 2625

tags: 5+1 Things, Established Relationship, Mentioned Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Thirdwheels BokuAka, One Shot, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Owl Bokuto Koutarou, Owl Akaashi Keiji, Akaashi Keiji is Soft for Bokuto Koutarou, Non-Sexual Shower Sharing

summary:

5 times Bokuto was a happy owl, and 1 time Akaashi was too.

---

1 - Taking Food Without Feeling the Need to Hide or Show Aggression

“Akaashi! Akaashi!” Bokuto sang, like a bird repeating a tune - it hardly still sounded like a name. He said it so often, crowing it repetitively like a chick in the nest, that it felt more like a gust of wind or a poem in a foreign language.

“Mmm?” Akaashi hummed, indicating he was listening to his boyfriend, but his eyes were still trained down on the paper plate in his lap as he sliced the yakiniku into edible strips of pure, thick, barbecued meat. Kou’s favourite. Kou had a lot of favourites, he was frankly very opinionated - he had a favourite multiple of 7, even (49) - but his favourite person, favourite teammate, favourite thing in the whole wide world, was Akaashi Keiji, and he made sure Akaashi knew it.

“Did you see that AWESOME cut shot I did the other day? Didya? Didya Akaashi?”

“Yes, Bokuto-san,” he continued, still not looking up, stabbing a piece of meat with his plastic fork and lifting it up to Bokuto’s mouth. Bokuto took it between his teeth eagerly, chewing, continuing to talk, “it was a fluke! I bet I could do it again though Akaashi. You gotta let me try again!”

Akaashi nodded, sort of listening and sort of not, still slicing meat to feed to his overactive boyfriend.

“Come here,” he said, positioning the meat in front of Kou’s face, staring subconsciously into his golden eyes. With a bright, beaming, 24-karat smile, Bokuto opened his mouth as wide as he could.

“Really guys? There are first years here,” muttered Kuroo, tired of third-wheeling their overly wholesome relationship. He was slightly jealous of how easily they displayed affection in public, but mostly he was just… so, so tired. Like, c’mon guys. We get it, you love each other. Jesus.

Through chewing, Bokuto somehow managed to reply, “you wish you had what we have.”

Kuroo really, really didn’t.

Okay, maybe a little, but that was a whole other thing.

2 - Gently Using Beak, Feet and Talons

Bokuto liked being little spoon. He felt safe, with Akaashi's arms wrapped around him like a mother goose protecting a gosling. He liked when Akaashi nuzzled his nose into the crook of his neck.

But he liked being big spoon, too - he was a big guy, 6'1", 78 kilos of pure muscle - and he felt so powerful when his huge, muscular arms cradled Akaashi, a nest of blankets above them, his face breathing warmly into Akaashi’s space. When Akaashi’s feathery locks brushed his nose, he felt so safe, and felt like Kaashi was safe too.

He wasn’t the most… immobile cuddler. Something about the way Bokuto was meant that he really struggled to stay still - so when he snuggled with Akaashi, his boyfriend, light of his life, protagonist of his world, he couldn’t help but fidget, his feet twitching occasionally, his fingernails running lightly over Akaashi’s tummy and drawing shapes and writing names gently on his skin. His nails weren’t sharp, exactly, but they were pointed, and when he would slightly scratch how much he cared into Kaashi’s flesh, the marks would stay a little while, even though they never hurt.

Kaashi’s skin was fragile, see. He bruised easily, often ending up with bruised legs and no idea how the bruises even got there (turns out Bo kicked calmly when he dreamed). Keiji having such sensitive skin was both a joy and a pain in the butt - Bokuto loved it when he could see his biting kisses still on his setter’s shoulders from the night before, but more than once it had led to uncomfortable confrontations in the clubroom.

Kotarou was always very placid with his angel; he feared harming this delicate, not frail exactly but certainly not robust, beautiful dove of a man. Akaashi was a clear, ripple-less lake, a cloudless sky, a gliding bird, a swan in flight, and Bokuto treasured every raindrop of time they spent together.

When they huddled together, on a couch or in Akaashi’s too-small bed, Bokuto always was so, so patient with Akaashi, so gentle, his hands roaming less like jeeps and more like kingfishers searching for a flower to drink from. His feather-light kisses trailed from Akaashi’s cheeks, to his neck, to his forearms, all the way up his long, talon-like fingers, where they rested ever so carefully against the pads of Akaashi’s fingertips.

With Bokuto curled so meticulously, so caringly around his spine, Bo’s arms like powerful wings extending from his body and curled flush around his torso, Akaashi felt safe. He felt loved. He felt, as Kotarou’s biceps pressed just a little too heavily against him, that he belonged with those dull nails against his tummy, and the bouncing feet against his calves, and the kisses lighting sparks in his heart. He belonged there, with Bokuto. And there he planned on staying.

3 - Allopreening

Another practise match against Nekoma. Another narrow victory.

The team captain squatted on the gym floor, his body so low to the ground, but just high enough for him to tuck his feet underneath himself. Sweat stained through his uniform - it was lucky they wore black, or the marks would be more than obvious - and his hair gel was slipping, horns deflating with exhaustion rather than emotion.

Akaashi couldn’t help but stare at him. He was only sitting two or so feet away, on the bench, chugging water from his bottle, admiring the glistening of Bokuto’s arms, the way his broad chest heaved with hard breaths, the way his slick hair started to fall from it’s heavy-sprayed position.

Keiji loved Bokuto’s hair. Sure, it was pretty when it was down, but Bokuto never felt more like himself than when his locks were shaped into a crown, with his face like a bird's nest settled comfortably in the crook between branches. It was more genuine, like that - he just wasn’t himself when his hair was down. He even slept with the horns, for goodness’ sake - it can’t have been good for his hair, but he liked it that way. With his hair up like that, he was just so unapologetically Bokuto , and that was all that Keiji wanted, and all that Keiji loved.

Kotarou’s golden eyes looked up to find Akaashi, not glaring exactly, but he always had that harsh face. In reality, he was looking with infatuation, obsession, a love so overwhelming it consumed his every moment. Bokuto had gotten used to this. At first he thought the looks were aggressive, or reproachful, but he learned with time that those hard, expressionless looks simply meant that Akaashi valued him above everything else. Above volleyball, above gold, above the future and the world - to Akaashi, Bokuto was worth all of it and more. His heart was pure, and it belonged to Bo, and to him alone.

“Hey,” he offered, still attempting to catch his breath, his hair elevating ever so slightly as his eyes locked with his setter’s.

“Hey.”

His hand reached out, gentle as water on a lake, to close the distance between them. His nails landed just above Akaashi’s hairline, wiping sweat away from his face haphazardly, trying not to mess up his fringe.

“You had some sweat there.”

“I’ve got sweat everywhere, Bokuto-san.”

Kotarou smiled, just a little, lifting himself so his face was in Keiji’s, and he started using the hem of his shirt to mop at Keiji’s pinking face.

When he lifted the cloth, his abdomen poked out, his belly button searing itself into Kaashi’s vision, the chiseled and tight muscle - born from hours upon hours of workout routines - seeming to reflect the artificial golden light from the gym’s strip lights and making him look a little more blessed than usual. With a body like that, Kotarou could do whatever he wanted, seduce anyone he wanted, play any sport or perform any role (that was, assuming said role was of a member of the Greek pantheon). He was just- he was- that torso- if the gods have ever visited Earth, then Bokuto, with his wings and his horns and his claws and his abs (oh man, his abs) was their last true descendant. His swan-like grace as he flew up to spike, and that eagle’s eye precision… he was a tengu , for sure.

And then the shirt lowered, and Akaashi snapped back into focus, and now he was sweating more, only this time it wasn’t from the game.

4 - Preening, Feaking and Bathing

Was it unusual for Kotarou to sing in the shower?

No.

Was it unusual for Kotarou to leave the door unlocked when he showered?

Also no - apparently he was paranoid about slipping in the tub and ending up dead on the tile.

Was it unusual for Kotarou to attempt to write songs as he showered, the door wide open, cawing loudly about Akaashi’s eyes?

Yes.

He stood in Akaashi’s bathroom (he was staying with him for the weekend - Keiji’s parents were thrilled to see Bokuto again, and he was allowed to use their shower whenever he pleased), soap suds all over his body, massaging his pecs with moisturising body wash. He wasn’t wearing clothes, and Akaashi knew he shouldn’t stare, but with the way he was smiling and singing- “and his EEEEEEEYES, they’re like… uh, hold on, what rhymes with eyes-” and his body was covered with bubbles, Akaashi couldn’t really help it.

“Akaashi!”

Keiji took a second, and then realised Bokuto - oh, beautiful, handsome, magical Bokuto, Bokuto who moved like the wind, Bokuto who smiled like the sun and kissed like flower petals and laughed like birdsong - was talking to him, gesturing, flapping his hand and suggesting Akaashi joined him.

“C’mon! Can you help me with my hair?”

Keiji felt his cheeks flare up - Bokuto asked him to share a bathroom, to stand together with nothing but hot water and steam between them, and- and he asked him to touch-

Letting out a strangled hum of agreement, sounding like a chick that hadn’t yet found its song, Akaashi pushed himself forward, stripping down and filling his hands with shampoo. As Bokuto knelt down, so Keiji could better massage the shampoo into his hair, Akaashi couldn't stop himself from dwelling on the stretch marks on his biceps and thighs, where he'd gained so much muscle in so little time that his body just couldn't keep up. The slightly purple, pulled skin just made his wingspan look larger, the muscle more toned and defined  (not that he needed it), the strong body even more beautiful and unique and Bokuto .

Bokuto played enthusiastically with the bubbles as Akaashi’s long fingers ran through his iridescent silver-black hair, using them to make it look as if he had the world’s fluffiest beard, and then covering his hands in bubbles and pretending they were some form of water magic.

It was so endearing. He was so at ease, and the world seemed to follow - the shower water wasn’t as harsh and biting as it was when Akaashi was alone, and the sunshine from the small frosted window kept making a dappled spotlight flicker on and off Bokuto’s statuesque arms.

Massaging lotion into his boyfriend’s shoulders, Akaashi thought to himself.

Hm, he thought. When Michelangelo sculpted his masterpiece, this must’ve been what drove him.

5 - Content Vocalisations and Standing on One Foot

The whistling of the kettle filled Bokuto’s small kitchen, the high pitch interrupted as Keiji lifted it and poured his and his boyfriend’s morning tea - calming chamomile for him, berry for Bokuto - and the placid tune of the radio drifted hazily through the room like a mating tune for dawn-rising birds. The windows were open, and the dew that rested in the air felt clean as the slight breeze from outside dusted it on Akaashi’s face. Sipping from his favourite mug (novelty - huge, shaped like an owl, with black and gold glittery eyes), Bokuto hummed lightly to himself, bouncing on the tips of his toes. The music felt comforting to him, and occasionally between sips he’d try and whistle along, or sing a couple of the words if he remembered them - every time he did, Akaashi gave him one of those special smiles, the ones where his ice-eyes melted from sub-zero to a warm bath, and his mouth tugged up into a crescent moon.

Akaashi’s smile was the moon, and Bokuto was nocturnal.

Soon enough, a song came on that Bokuto knew, and his grin stopped for just a moment; and then it was back, wider than ever, as he haphazardly placed his mug on the counter, his heart in Akaashi’s hands, and the lyrics in his throat. Kaashi was in his arms as he pranced through his kitchen, caroling to a song Akaashi would treasure, throwing his legs into the air and doing clumsy pirouettes on his linoleum floor. The chorus felt like a love spell - or perhaps a curse of passion - and Akaashi was under it, with the way he tried to swerve underneath Bokuto’s impressive wingspan as they made up a dance as they went.

The tune finished, but Kotarou continued, fingers darting up Akaashi’s arms, then to his hips, then twisting him around like a ribbon in a traditional Chinese dance. He’d laugh, and whistle, and just make little noises as Akaashi played along, and when he put him down Keiji all but jumped into Bokuto’s arms.

“It’s like I was flying,” he said, tucking his arms in as close as they could get to Kotarou’s strong back muscles, trying to not to let Bokuto stand on his feet as they twisted in patient harmony.

Bokuto saw that smile again, that crescent-moon smile that he thrived under, and couldn’t restrain himself from kissing it like that was all he had.

Akaashi tasted like chamomile - a chamomile crescent.

+1 - Comfortable Playfulness

Bokuto was his own brand of chaos - uncontrolled, unpredictable - and in a way, Akaashi was too. Akaashi was controlled, and patient, but had a way of making the weird seem normal and the normal seem weird. When Kaashi relaxed, stopped overthinking, put his heart before his head and pushed all his responsibility aside, he was a handful, playful, an exhibit of unrestrained joy.

It was no mystery that this version of him existed only when Bokuto sat beside him.

“Kaashi,” started Bokuto.

“Bo.”

Bokuto stopped, knowing he’d just been interrupted.

“Akaashi-” he tried, starting again.

“Bokuto.”

Squinting, Bokuto smiled, and tried a third time.

“Keiji-”

“Kotarou.”

“You’re playing a game! You’re messing with me, aren’t you!”

Restraining a polite snort, Akaashi looked up, his eyes intense and humoured, his brows furrowed in a way that was almost avian. “Me? Never.”

Bokuto, ever so gently, pushed Akaashi, just to see if he’d comply.

Akaashi damn-near grinned, before shoving Bokuto as hard as he could.

“Oh, it is so on,” Bokuto said, jumping out of his position on the couch and running after Kaashi as he dashed to the door.

“Catch me first!”

Akaashi might tease Bokuto, and he might pretend to be cold and empty and he might sigh with discontent as Kou fell into one of his slumps, but as they chased each other around the house, taking chips from the fridge and eating a few before throwing them at each other, politely tapping each other to say who was “it”, fixing each others’ hair after messing it up with kisses, adjusting their shirts and laughing to each other as they fell in a heap on the floor, Kaashi knew there’s not a single person on Earth he’d rather hold.

In this life, and every one following, in every reality, Akaashi and Bokuto were in love.

Akaashi and Bokuto were both handfuls - but that’s why they held each others’ hands.

[fanfictionisusuallylife]

Bokuto Being A Happy Owl, 5 Times In A Row

❤ ao3 link in reblogs ❤

ship: bokuto koutarou/akaashi keiji

words: 2625

tags: 5+1 Things, Established Relationship, Mentioned Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Thirdwheels BokuAka, One Shot, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Owl Bokuto Koutarou, Owl Akaashi Keiji, Akaashi Keiji is Soft for Bokuto Koutarou, Non-Sexual Shower Sharing

summary:

5 times Bokuto was a happy owl, and 1 time Akaashi was too.

---

1 - Taking Food Without Feeling the Need to Hide or Show Aggression

“Akaashi! Akaashi!” Bokuto sang, like a bird repeating a tune - it hardly still sounded like a name. He said it so often, crowing it repetitively like a chick in the nest, that it felt more like a gust of wind or a poem in a foreign language.

“Mmm?” Akaashi hummed, indicating he was listening to his boyfriend, but his eyes were still trained down on the paper plate in his lap as he sliced the yakiniku into edible strips of pure, thick, barbecued meat. Kou’s favourite. Kou had a lot of favourites, he was frankly very opinionated - he had a favourite multiple of 7, even (49) - but his favourite person, favourite teammate, favourite thing in the whole wide world, was Akaashi Keiji, and he made sure Akaashi knew it. 

“Did you see that AWESOME cut shot I did the other day? Didya? Didya Akaashi?”

“Yes, Bokuto-san,” he continued, still not looking up, stabbing a piece of meat with his plastic fork and lifting it up to Bokuto’s mouth. Bokuto took it between his teeth eagerly, chewing, continuing to talk, “it was a fluke! I bet I could do it again though Akaashi. You gotta let me try again!”

Akaashi nodded, sort of listening and sort of not, still slicing meat to feed to his overactive boyfriend.

“Come here,” he said, positioning the meat in front of Kou��s face, staring subconsciously into his golden eyes. With a bright, beaming, 24-karat smile, Bokuto opened his mouth as wide as he could. 

“Really guys? There are first years here,” muttered Kuroo, tired of third-wheeling their overly wholesome relationship. He was slightly jealous of how easily they displayed affection in public, but mostly he was just… so, so tired. Like, c’mon guys. We get it, you love each other. Jesus.

Through chewing, Bokuto somehow managed to reply, “you wish you had what we have.”

Kuroo really, really didn’t.

Okay, maybe a little, but that was a whole other thing.

2 - Gently Using Beak, Feet and Talons 

Bokuto liked being little spoon. He felt safe, with Akaashi's arms wrapped around him like a mother goose protecting a gosling. He liked when Akaashi nuzzled his nose into the crook of his neck.

But he liked being big spoon, too - he was a big guy, 6'1", 78 kilos of pure muscle - and he felt so powerful when his huge, muscular arms cradled Akaashi, a nest of blankets above them, his face breathing warmly into Akaashi’s space. When Akaashi’s feathery locks brushed his nose, he felt so safe, and felt like Kaashi was safe too.

He wasn’t the most… immobile cuddler. Something about the way Bokuto was meant that he really struggled to stay still - so when he snuggled with Akaashi, his boyfriend, light of his life, protagonist of his world, he couldn’t help but fidget, his feet twitching occasionally, his fingernails running lightly over Akaashi’s tummy and drawing shapes and writing names gently on his skin. His nails weren’t sharp, exactly, but they were pointed, and when he would slightly scratch how much he cared into Kaashi’s flesh, the marks would stay a little while, even though they never hurt. 

Kaashi’s skin was fragile, see. He bruised easily, often ending up with bruised legs and no idea how the bruises even got there (turns out Bo kicked calmly when he dreamed). Keiji having such sensitive skin was both a joy and a pain in the butt - Bokuto loved it when he could see his biting kisses still on his setter’s shoulders from the night before, but more than once it had led to uncomfortable confrontations in the clubroom.

Kotarou was always very placid with his angel; he feared harming this delicate, not frail exactly but certainly not robust, beautiful dove of a man. Akaashi was a clear, ripple-less lake, a cloudless sky, a gliding bird, a swan in flight, and Bokuto treasured every raindrop of time they spent together.

When they huddled together, on a couch or in Akaashi’s too-small bed, Bokuto always was so, so patient with Akaashi, so gentle, his hands roaming less like jeeps and more like kingfishers searching for a flower to drink from. His feather-light kisses trailed from Akaashi’s cheeks, to his neck, to his forearms, all the way up his long, talon-like fingers, where they rested ever so carefully against the pads of Akaashi’s fingertips.

With Bokuto curled so meticulously, so caringly around his spine, Bo’s arms like powerful wings extending from his body and curled flush around his torso, Akaashi felt safe. He felt loved. He felt, as Kotarou’s biceps pressed just a little too heavily against him, that he belonged with those dull nails against his tummy, and the bouncing feet against his calves, and the kisses lighting sparks in his heart. He belonged there, with Bokuto. And there he planned on staying. 

3 - Allopreening 

Another practise match against Nekoma. Another narrow victory.

The team captain squatted on the gym floor, his body so low to the ground, but just high enough for him to tuck his feet underneath himself. Sweat stained through his uniform - it was lucky they wore black, or the marks would be more than obvious - and his hair gel was slipping, horns deflating with exhaustion rather than emotion.

Akaashi couldn’t help but stare at him. He was only sitting two or so feet away, on the bench, chugging water from his bottle, admiring the glistening of Bokuto’s arms, the way his broad chest heaved with hard breaths, the way his slick hair started to fall from it’s heavy-sprayed position.

Keiji loved Bokuto’s hair. Sure, it was pretty when it was down, but Bokuto never felt more like himself than when his locks were shaped into a crown, with his face like a bird's nest settled comfortably in the crook between branches. It was more genuine, like that - he just wasn’t himself when his hair was down. He even slept with the horns, for goodness’ sake - it can’t have been good for his hair, but he liked it that way. With his hair up like that, he was just so unapologetically Bokuto, and that was all that Keiji wanted, and all that Keiji loved.

Kotarou’s golden eyes looked up to find Akaashi, not glaring exactly, but he always had that harsh face. In reality, he was looking with infatuation, obsession, a love so overwhelming it consumed his every moment. Bokuto had gotten used to this. At first he thought the looks were aggressive, or reproachful, but he learned with time that those hard, expressionless looks simply meant that Akaashi valued him above everything else. Above volleyball, above gold, above the future and the world - to Akaashi, Bokuto was worth all of it and more. His heart was pure, and it belonged to Bo, and to him alone.

“Hey,” he offered, still attempting to catch his breath, his hair elevating ever so slightly as his eyes locked with his setter’s.

“Hey.”

His hand reached out, gentle as water on a lake, to close the distance between them. His nails landed just above Akaashi’s hairline, wiping sweat away from his face haphazardly, trying not to mess up his fringe.

“You had some sweat there.”

“I’ve got sweat everywhere, Bokuto-san.”

Kotarou smiled, just a little, lifting himself so his face was in Keiji’s, and he started using the hem of his shirt to mop at Keiji’s pinking face. 

When he lifted the cloth, his abdomen poked out, his belly button searing itself into Kaashi’s vision, the chiseled and tight muscle - born from hours upon hours of workout routines - seeming to reflect the artificial golden light from the gym’s strip lights and making him look a little more blessed than usual. With a body like that, Kotarou could do whatever he wanted, seduce anyone he wanted, play any sport or perform any role (that was, assuming said role was of a member of the Greek pantheon). He was just- he was- that torso- if the gods have ever visited Earth, then Bokuto, with his wings and his horns and his claws and his abs (oh man, his abs) was their last true descendant. His swan-like grace as he flew up to spike, and that eagle’s eye precision… he was a tengu, for sure.

And then the shirt lowered, and Akaashi snapped back into focus, and now he was sweating more, only this time it wasn’t from the game. 

4 - Preening, Feaking and Bathing

Was it unusual for Kotarou to sing in the shower?

No.

Was it unusual for Kotarou to leave the door unlocked when he showered?

Also no - apparently he was paranoid about slipping in the tub and ending up dead on the tile.

Was it unusual for Kotarou to attempt to write songs as he showered, the door wide open, cawing loudly about Akaashi’s eyes?

Yes.

He stood in Akaashi’s bathroom (he was staying with him for the weekend - Keiji’s parents were thrilled to see Bokuto again, and he was allowed to use their shower whenever he pleased), soap suds all over his body, massaging his pecs with moisturising body wash. He wasn’t wearing clothes, and Akaashi knew he shouldn’t stare, but with the way he was smiling and singing- “and his EEEEEEEYES, they’re like… uh, hold on, what rhymes with eyes-” and his body was covered with bubbles, Akaashi couldn’t really help it.

“Akaashi!”

Keiji took a second, and then realised Bokuto - oh, beautiful, handsome, magical Bokuto, Bokuto who moved like the wind, Bokuto who smiled like the sun and kissed like flower petals and laughed like birdsong - was talking to him, gesturing, flapping his hand and suggesting Akaashi joined him.

“C’mon! Can you help me with my hair?”

Keiji felt his cheeks flare up - Bokuto asked him to share a bathroom, to stand together with nothing but hot water and steam between them, and- and he asked him to touch-

Letting out a strangled hum of agreement, sounding like a chick that hadn’t yet found its song, Akaashi pushed himself forward, stripping down and filling his hands with shampoo. As Bokuto knelt down, so Keiji could better massage the shampoo into his hair, Akaashi couldn't stop himself from dwelling on the stretch marks on his biceps and thighs, where he'd gained so much muscle in so little time that his body just couldn't keep up. The slightly purple, pulled skin just made his wingspan look larger, the muscle more toned and defined  (not that he needed it), the strong body even more beautiful and unique and Bokuto.

Bokuto played enthusiastically with the bubbles as Akaashi’s long fingers ran through his iridescent silver-black hair, using them to make it look as if he had the world’s fluffiest beard, and then covering his hands in bubbles and pretending they were some form of water magic.

It was so endearing. He was so at ease, and the world seemed to follow - the shower water wasn’t as harsh and biting as it was when Akaashi was alone, and the sunshine from the small frosted window kept making a dappled spotlight flicker on and off Bokuto’s statuesque arms.

Massaging lotion into his boyfriend’s shoulders, Akaashi thought to himself.

Hm, he thought. When Michelangelo sculpted his masterpiece, this must’ve been what drove him.

5 - Content Vocalisations and Standing on One Foot

The whistling of the kettle filled Bokuto’s small kitchen, the high pitch interrupted as Keiji lifted it and poured his and his boyfriend’s morning tea - calming chamomile for him, berry for Bokuto - and the placid tune of the radio drifted hazily through the room like a mating tune for dawn-rising birds. The windows were open, and the dew that rested in the air felt clean as the slight breeze from outside dusted it on Akaashi’s face. Sipping from his favourite mug (novelty - huge, shaped like an owl, with black and gold glittery eyes), Bokuto hummed lightly to himself, bouncing on the tips of his toes. The music felt comforting to him, and occasionally between sips he’d try and whistle along, or sing a couple of the words if he remembered them - every time he did, Akaashi gave him one of those special smiles, the ones where his ice-eyes melted from sub-zero to a warm bath, and his mouth tugged up into a crescent moon.

Akaashi’s smile was the moon, and Bokuto was nocturnal.

Soon enough, a song came on that Bokuto knew, and his grin stopped for just a moment; and then it was back, wider than ever, as he haphazardly placed his mug on the counter, his heart in Akaashi’s hands, and the lyrics in his throat. Kaashi was in his arms as he pranced through his kitchen, caroling to a song Akaashi would treasure, throwing his legs into the air and doing clumsy pirouettes on his linoleum floor. The chorus felt like a love spell - or perhaps a curse of passion - and Akaashi was under it, with the way he tried to swerve underneath Bokuto’s impressive wingspan as they made up a dance as they went.

The tune finished, but Kotarou continued, fingers darting up Akaashi’s arms, then to his hips, then twisting him around like a ribbon in a traditional Chinese dance. He’d laugh, and whistle, and just make little noises as Akaashi played along, and when he put him down Keiji all but jumped into Bokuto’s arms.

“It’s like I was flying,” he said, tucking his arms in as close as they could get to Kotarou’s strong back muscles, trying to not to let Bokuto stand on his feet as they twisted in patient harmony.

Bokuto saw that smile again, that crescent-moon smile that he thrived under, and couldn’t restrain himself from kissing it like that was all he had.

Akaashi tasted like chamomile - a chamomile crescent.

+1 - Comfortable Playfulness

Bokuto was his own brand of chaos - uncontrolled, unpredictable - and in a way, Akaashi was too. Akaashi was controlled, and patient, but had a way of making the weird seem normal and the normal seem weird. When Kaashi relaxed, stopped overthinking, put his heart before his head and pushed all his responsibility aside, he was a handful, playful, an exhibit of unrestrained joy.

It was no mystery that this version of him existed only when Bokuto sat beside him.

“Kaashi,” started Bokuto.

“Bo.”

Bokuto stopped, knowing he’d just been interrupted.

“Akaashi-” he tried, starting again.

“Bokuto.”

Squinting, Bokuto smiled, and tried a third time.

“Keiji-”

“Kotarou.”

“You’re playing a game! You’re messing with me, aren’t you!”

Restraining a polite snort, Akaashi looked up, his eyes intense and humoured, his brows furrowed in a way that was almost avian. “Me? Never.”

Bokuto, ever so gently, pushed Akaashi, just to see if he’d comply.

Akaashi damn-near grinned, before shoving Bokuto as hard as he could.

“Oh, it is so on,” Bokuto said, jumping out of his position on the couch and running after Kaashi as he dashed to the door.

“Catch me first!”

Akaashi might tease Bokuto, and he might pretend to be cold and empty and he might sigh with discontent as Kou fell into one of his slumps, but as they chased each other around the house, taking chips from the fridge and eating a few before throwing them at each other, politely tapping each other to say who was “it”, fixing each others’ hair after messing it up with kisses, adjusting their shirts and laughing to each other as they fell in a heap on the floor, Kaashi knew there’s not a single person on Earth he’d rather hold.

In this life, and every one following, in every reality, Akaashi and Bokuto were in love.

Akaashi and Bokuto were both handfuls - but that’s why they held each others’ hands.

[augustheart]

Kind of imagining that the Doctor Mid-Nites and Doctor Midnight have a set sound they each make that they consider to mean 'For The Love Of Everything Good In The World Stop! Stop! Stop! They Are Definitely Dead Now!' and that Hooty and Charlie translate to mean 'Nice fight! Good job! :) '. Four questions related to each other but not to that. How would an owl express affection to a human? Another owl? How should a human express affection to an owl? Would it be okay to pet an owl?

1. Owl affection toward people is more a language of tolerance and a lack of fear. A comfortable owl is alert but not agitated (think the Full Orb owls doing their threat displays) with--in Charlie’s case, since he’s one of the horned owls--relaxed “ear” tufts and bright eyes. Imprinted birds have more of this tolerance, and therefore more affection, even if it doesn’t look like affection a lot of the time. Because owls use their mouths and “whiskers” to sense things, a comfortable and curious owl will sometimes nibble on things, but I don’t know that I could say for sure that it also doubles as a “preening” for what they perceive to be a person. 

2. Owl affection toward other owls is all about preening. Owls don’t cross-species allopreen, but they will preen their mates and hatchlings. (And potentially siblings before they leave the nest fully, but I’m not sure about that one, because raptor siblings are naturally competitive.) It’s also all about a romantic dinner. Male GHOWs will bring food tributes to females to court them. 

3. Human affection toward owls is best expressed with a tasty snack. Especially a snack that’s “high value” and that they haven’t gotten to have for awhile.

4. “Petting” should be kept to a minimum, it can be stressful and overstimulating (unfortunately, the best studies in the sexual discomfort direct petting on the back can cause are surrounding psittacines and I know for a fact don’t apply to certain domestic fowl like chickens and pigeons, but I would hazard a guess that even if it isn’t as directly damaging, unless you’re prepared for your bird to view you as a mate, it’s probably best to avoid for owls too), but as far as I know it’s acceptable to simulate preening around the facial disk and shoulders. A lot of what seems like owl contentment with petting is owl confusion (excessive blinking and stiffness come to mind). Direct head petting causes a lot of confusion, but I’m not sure I could accurately say that an imprinted owl couldn’t also enjoy it...?

[avenin7]

I'd love to hear all your thoughts about rito Link. How Revali would go about courting him, how he would go about mating with him, the rituals, everything. I'm sure you have many interesting and captivate things to share!

hiii!! I didn’t forget about this ask I just wanted to properly answer it!

so I think that no matter what story iteration it is Revali would be unbelievably infatuated with Link. Rather shy but super duper obvious about his interest in him. My rito hc’s about courting rituals involve a LOT of subtle body language and gift giving. so we have Revali out here giving all the signals with his body language while Link is just : T about it. It wouldn’t be until Revali’s crush wears down a little bit and he starts focusing on his archery more that Link would start to really consider Revali’s advances.

I don’t think they’d get into allopreening until they were well into their friendship. Their crushes would wax & wane against each other. Never fully receding but not always aligning (they’re also both cowards I think when it comes to feelings. so they never confess.) When someone does finally make a move (probably Link at first) they both fumble with how to court one another. Neither of them really expected to find someone long-term and so they never really thought about ‘romance’ in that way. Revali would want to go all out but overthink it constantly. Link would probably underthink it a lot and be worried he’s not doing enough. Their first gifts for each other are violets (for Revali. his favorite flower) and nutcake. And a nice piece of jewelry and hair beads (for Link because he loves to accessorize). {he also stole one of Revali’s scarves and Revali told him to keep it but he doesn’t like saying that was his first gift because that doesn’t seem as thoughtful}.

They often like to fly together. That’s one of their favorite pastimes when they’re not both busy with village duties. In this au I don’t always like having Revali be rito champion but I do like the idea that he finds Vah Medoh’s head buried in Hebra and goes and sits with her. She’s not active but something draws him to the place. So later on in their courtship/friendship Revali takes Link there and they just sit together and watch the aurora.

the only thing against the grain that they do is they often share a hammock before they began courting and share all throughout. It’s also why over half the village knew they were a thing before they knew they were a thing. Link stays in Revali’s hut more often than his own and the two of them become inseparable.

Revali’s final proper gift to Link is a complimenting bow that’s design fits Great Eagle. So they both match <3