#im good now! probably!

[grimalkinmessor]

reimob, fluff, and feathers 🩷🩷

WING FIC TIME!!!!!! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Reimob/Fluff/Feathers

———

"Sit still, Mob."

Shigeo stilled in his squirming, chastised but not embarrassed—not anymore. The way his wings fluttered around his shishou's fingers had once made him red in the face, mortified by the obvious pleasure he took from Reigen's fingers sifting through his feathers.

Now, they'd both been at this too long to feel ashamed about it.

Reigen huffed when Shigeo's wings shivered again, stopping his preening to swat Shigeo upside the head. "Still, I said! You keep jostling everything back out of place."

He sat behind Shigeo on the back of the couch, shoes off so his socked feet could rest on the seat cushion, bracketing Shigeo's hips. Reigen's deft hands carded through inky feathers and plucked and straightened and smoothed down anything out of place, occasionally dropping a few feathers in the small pile on the arm of the couch. Shigeo was getting big enough that soon the couch wouldn't be a good place for this, the tips of his primaries brushing against the edges of the seat even without being fully extended.

He wondered if Reigen would stop preening him, then. He hoped he wouldn't.

Reigen had been preening him for years at this point—ever since he was twelve, his newly grown feathers replacing old baby fuzz and making him so uncomfortable he couldn't keep it hidden. His parents preened him, of course; it was typically a family activity, shining up someone's wings before they left the house. Like helping a child brush their hair until they could do it themselves, and even then still sometimes after, just to keep close. To bond.

But by the time Shigeo had first stepped timidly into Reigen's office, his parents had all but ceased to preen his wings. His mother'd had to take double shifts at work to cover Ritsu's hospital bills, while his father had been playing diplomat to the angry parents of the other, older boys Shigeo had cracked against the pavement. Neither of them had time to do more than a few cursory cards over Shigeo's wings before ushering him out the door to school.

And Ritsu...

Ritsu had been another matter entirely.

Almost a year had passed like that, until the fullness of Shigeo's wings and they're subsequent twitchiness had caught his shishou's attention. When Reigen had offered, Shigeo hadn't had the will nor the want to say no.

Reigen's hands always felt like heaven in his feathers, quick but not painful, firm but not rough, gentle but not ticklish. He shines up the back of Shigeo's wings with an exactness that no one else could match.

"Shishou is too good with his hands," Shigeo said in faux-complaint, eyes closing.

A beat, blink-and-you'll-miss-it pause. Then Reigen was humming in amusement, seemingly unphased by the comment. "Get one of your little school friends to help you, then."

Shigeo frowned, almost a pout. "...My friends are too bad with their hands."

Reigen barked out a laugh, his hands resuming their work once more. "What's that supposed to mean, huh? Kids are supposed to be bad at this, you know. Practicing on each other is how you learn."

"I'm not saying they have to be great at it," Shigeo grumbled, slitting his eyes open to peer at the floor. "But I don't really want to be their test dummy either."

"It's good experience, Mob," Reigen dismissed, scraping his fingers down the seam of Shigeo's wing where it met the skin of his back, sending shivers racing up his spine. His wings gave another flutter, and Reigen huffed. "Still."

Shigeo obeyed, forcibly quieting his overexcited wings and bringing that old conversation to an end. Anything to keep Reigen's hands on him.

He closed his eyes again. "I like it when you do it."

Reigen didn't pause this time, but he also didn't respond to Shigeo's admission either.

Shigeo felt a bit miffed. Not wanting to let Reigen worm his way out of it, he asked, "Do you like it, Reigen-shishou?"

"...Yes," Reigen said after a moment. "I like preening you, Mob."

Head tipping back, Shigeo said, "I meant when I preen you, Shishou. Do you like it when I preen you?"

Reigen stared at him, eyes widened—deer in the headlights.

His own wings were tucked against his back, closed, as they usually were in public, the ends of them hooked down behind the back of the couch where Shigeo couldn't see. He knew that Reigen wasn't ashamed of his wings—they were beautiful, a lovely shade of tawny that almost looked gold in the right light—but Reigen also had very little people in his life that he was close to. Reigen was used to hiding his wings away because, for a long time, he'd had no one to help him preen them, so they always looked a bit messy, no matter how much he tried to do it himself.

Shigeo had asked to reciprocate after their first encounter with Claw, when Reigen had instinctively flashed open his wings to shield them both.

"When things go South, it's okay to run away!"

Moonlight haloed behind him, his expression open and earnest, his wings spread open and curled around them...

That had been the first time that he'd ever thought, 'Oh. Shishou is beautiful.'

The first, but certainly not the last. He was beautiful now, caught off-guard and striped with evening sun coming in from the blinds. He might even be remembering the first time that Shigeo had preened him, after that very same encounter. Sat in the office, Hanazawa gone home, Ritsu asleep on the couch as Reigen called their parents to let them know where they were, coming up with another another another lie to keep them from worrying. Shigeo had seen how out of sorts he'd been, his wings twitching, and had remembered how ruffled his feathers had looked. And, feeling grateful and guilty all at once, Shigeo had asked to preen him.

Reigen had frozen, hemmed and hawed and hesitated, but he'd ultimately given in, dragging Shigeo's desk chair around so he could sit on it backwards, allowing a smaller Mob to put inexperienced fingers to his wings. Straightening, plucking, brushing; feeling Reigen reluctantly shiver and croon beneath his touch and not yet knowing what the warm, hot feeling in his gut meant.

"Yes, Mob," Reigen said now, forcibly nonchalant. "I appreciate you helping me with it. Now, for the last time, be still would you?"

Shigeo obeyed, though he wasn't quite yet appeased. He let Reigen finish him up, then turned, wings still flared, and pushed up into Reigen's space. His gaze was focused, bright.

Insistent.

"Your turn, Shishou."

"Alright—alright, you pushy brat, give me a second to get situated!" Reigen barked, shoving at Shigeo's face in annoyance when his black wings crowded around him, hemming him in and herding him down.

Huffing, Reigen slid down onto the couch itself and sat crisscross, while Shigeo settled into Reigen's place on the back of the couch. He wasn't quite as tall as Reigen, not yet, but that just gave him a better vantage point to see what needed to be fixed. Shigeo buried his fingers in his shishou's pretty feathers, taking time to brush them through slowly. And, like always, Reigen relaxed instantly at his touch, his wings falling open wider, flexing.

A few feathers were loose, pulled out from between the others in Shigeo's hands, but unlike Reigen, he didn't pile them up to be disposed of later. Shigeo set every feather carefully beside him in a line a little disappointed that there weren't more. He supposed being a fully matured adult meant your wings shed less.

Reigen's wings weren't technically bigger than Shigeo's, not in height at least, but they were thicker. Longer. Sturdy, strong—capable of getting him places and getting him there fast.

Shigeo's wings resembled cormorants; fishing birds. Water birds. Built for diving, strength, weathering storms... Not for speed.

If Reigen ever decided to fly off without him, Shigeo wasn't sure he could catch him.

But he hadn't.

Many birds were sedentary. Many birds mated for life.

Shigeo hoped that, in that, he and Reigen were the same.

When he was finished, Reigen's wings gleamed like fools gold, straight and sleek. Shigeo felt pleased with himself, even more so when Reigen visibly had to wake himself up, lulled into a sleepy sort of contentment by Shigeo's ministrations. As he moved about the office, his wings fluttered and fluffed ever so slightly, as they always did when he was freshly preened and immensely pleased about it.

Hiding his smile by ducking his head, Shigeo tucked the few stray feathers he'd collected into his pocket. Then, as Reigen began to corral them both out the door for dinner, Shigeo slipped one of his own sleek primaries onto Reigen's desk. Center fold, unmistakable.

Reigen would find it in the morning. Shigeo hoped that he would tuck it away with the others Reigen pretended he didn't save in his desk drawer.

Then, when the time came, Shigeo hoped he'd wear them, as Shigeo wanted to wear his.

A symbol to the world that they belonged to each other.

[hinamie]

the new jjk cafe fits have been living in my head . no thoughts except yuuji in a letterman

[xxplastic-cubexx]

personal happiness or what the fuck ever

bonus:

[icelogged]

[quietly-sleeping]

When he first started doing Liu Qingge's hair he didn't expect the other man to be so sensitive. Shen Yuan had carefully pulled out the dripping hair pins, the now stained ribbon, and a guan the man usually refused to wear. He thought at first the shivering was due to the sticky sap that still coated most of Liu Qingge's robes, of which he really needed to get out of.

But it continued after Liu Qingge's bath. His shoulders would tense, flinching slightly as Shen Yuan began to drag the comb through his hair. But as it continued, the shivers would return, his shoulders would drop and he began to sway slightly. Shen Yuan knew he shouldn't mess with his shidi like this, but he couldn't help himself sometimes.

It was fascinating to watch Liu Qingge begin to melt as Shen Yuan worked the hair oil in. As he carefully braided his shidi's hair and pulled him towards his awfully Spartan bed, Shen Yuan wondered when he would be able to do this again.

The answer was: less than a week. The Mud Slinging Toad followed through with its name, leaving Shen Yuan, Liu Qingge, and a less than pleased Mu Qingfang covered.

Mu Qingfang left them quickly, citing a lecture he needed to prepare for while Shen Yuan herded his uncooperative shidi towards the Beast Peak. Shen Yuan was delighted to discover that it took less time to make Liu Qingge melt this time around. The man blinking like a content cat while Shen Yuan worked clumps of mud out of his long hair.

His shidi's sudden infliction of loose limbs lasted until Shen Yuan was clean as well. The other Peak Lord gathering his senses enough to stumble over to the bed and promptly pass out. Which Shen Yuan wouldn't have minded, however, Liu Qingge had laid across most of the bed. Leaving Shen Yuan with the choice of either waking his shidi, not going to happen, or adjusting the man enough for Shen Yuan to fit as well.

Shen Yuan certainly wasn't going to be sleeping else where. He liked his bed far too much for that.

That decision caused an unfortunate amount of activity that morning. With his very pretty shidi, clad in his inner robes and flushed down his neck, storming out of Shen Yuan's modest house with Shen Yuan's outerrobe in hand. If he were more awake Shen Yuan was certain he would have called out for his shidi and taken his outerrobe back. However, he was tired, and his bed was so warm, and it smelled sweet like the soap he'd given his shidi to use last night.

He'd simply get his robe back later, Shen Yuan assured himself, he'd have to return Liu Qingge's anyway.

It was nearly two weeks until Shen Yuan got to put his hands on Liu Qingge's hair again. This time they weren't covered in suspicious substances, and Shen Yuan had taken the chance to return Liu Qingge's outerrobe. Despite his shidi attempting to run out the door again, as he had most of the last two weeks, Shen Yuan had managed to coax the man into a cup of tea.

Shen Yuan had found himself staring at a strand of his shidi's hair for most of their talk, it had escaped the braid that lead most of Liu Qingge's hair back to his ponytail. In fact, his shidi's hair seemed softer today, and Shen Yuan could feel his hand twitching slightly. It was a little amusing to watch the tint of red blossom down Liu Qingge's neck when Shen Yuan asked if he could tidy his hair.

However, it was so much more, in multiple ways to have Liu Qingge loose limbed and blinking slowly while resting his head on Shen Yuan's lap. He wasn't entirely sure how they ended up this way, but he certainly wasn't opposed to it. He followed the curve of Liu Qingge's cheek as it pressed against his leg, tracing a line with his eyes down his relaxed shidi's back.

It was a lovely line, and for a moment Shen Yuan longed for the skill to paint or draw the human form. How pretty a painting it would be, his stiff and tense shidi, pliant and soft, permanently recorded for Shen Yuan to study.

He had long finished combing his shidi's hair, simply stroking down his back and shoulders, the man burrowing closer to Shen Yuan the longer it lasted. It left his pretty shidi so relaxed that only Shen Yuan jumped when the door to his home snapped open.

Fighting the heat in his own cheeks now, Shen Yuan tried to smile at his shixiong in a manner that told him I have an explanation for this. Shen Yuan wasn't sure he succeeded when Shen Qingqiu smiled back at him.

"Well," The smile, paired with sharp brown eyes made a shiver of something Shen Yuan assumed to be fear run down his spine. "This is certainly a sight."

[obsob]

despite, despite, despite!!

[inkskinned]

you were raised in comparison.

it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.

you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.

you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.

what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.

it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.

you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.

you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?

a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.

you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.

it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.

something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.

[merlyn-red-0]

saw this tumblr ask asking about a kiss (and mr. neil gaiman responded with a kiss that was from The Sleeper and the Spindle, illustrated by Chris Riddell)

but I thought, well what if it was an aziracrow kiss after all idk

[umblrspectrum]

do you ever like wanna make something cool but you dont know how so you just sit around like a moron for 5 hours straight pretending you know how

me neither

on a more serious note i know ad astra as a whole isnt over but i still want to thank daybreaker for their fics. what friends are for was the very first md fic i ever stumbled upon when trying out ao3 for the first time, and prior to joining the server i was checking it near daily for uploads. god knows if i'd be as deep in ao3 as i am now if it werent for this story and convenient timing. Thanks for the story.

[dorothywonderland]

BRO LITERALLY DOXXED HIMSELF TO THE CYCLOPS. he was asking to get jumped come on

[gravygranola]

you can thank freddie himself for being stuck in my head all day and dragging this out of me against my will

[heartless-brainrot]

so i was planning to do heartless art for pride but i forgot and now its 11:42pm on june 30th so have this for now

i sware ill do something art in july

[hinamie]

sidelong

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what kind of underwear do you think Erik and Charles wear (i'm not asking this to see them half naked) ((please believe me)) (((PLEASE)))

My Personal Belief is charles is a briefs guy while erik's a trunks guy. trunks/briefs kinda couple because i can

and idk just a lil bonus or somethin. as i do.

[gatoburr0]

He just needs a better outfit

[sad-leon]

(good future) Finding Home Pride edition <3

Trans Leo pride is something I see a lot, but personally, FH Leo wouldn't celebrate his gender. He grew up around Gali, who went through a lot of gender struggles, especially in his younger years, and with the brothers being so accepting, it's just another part of his life

But his lack of romantic attraction? That's something that stands out to him. He sees the brothers with their own attractions and crushes and such and realizes he stands out. He's different. But that's okay because he's still him and he's still valid

anyways~ it's pride month, which means i get to be even more annoying about aro pride ^-^

that final shot without text: